A Bit of Heaven on Earth (16 page)

“Tell me what happened, Nelia.” Elizabeth leaned over and stroked her husband’s brow. Immediately, his body visibly relaxed, so she continued the motion. She also took his hand in hers. It felt cold to the touch.

“I looked up from my duties and saw Lord Aldred making his way down the stairs, a proud look upon his face. His walking stick was in his hand. He raised a hand in greeting to me,” Nelia recalled. “Then, with but two steps remaining, he got an odd look upon his face, as if something surprised him.”

Nelia stopped, and Gavin touched the old servant’s shoulder. “Go on,” he urged.

The woman patted his hand and continued. “He crumpled up and tumbled the short way down. I called for help and went looking for Lady Elizabeth.”

“You did well,” Gavin assured her.

Elizabeth nodded and ran her hands along Aldred’s limbs in a thorough inspection.

“No broken bones,” she said, a sense of relief coming for a brief moment. She leaned close to his ear. “Can you hear me, Aldred? ‘Tis Elizabeth, come to tend you. You gave me quite a scare.”

A shadow of a smile crossed Aldred’s pale face. His eyelids fluttered a few times and opened for a moment before drifting closed again.

She took his face in both her hands and pressed a kiss to his brow. “Wake up, you sweet old goat,” she said teasingly. “I would not have you play games anymore with me.”

His eyes opened again and remained that way. He mumbled something.

“What’s that?” She bent low, her ear close to his mouth.
“Courlieu?”
she repeated. “Did you say
courlieu
?”

She took his hand between hers and rubbed it, trying to warm it. “Yes, you sent the
courlieu
to the king but a few days ago, dearest. He has barely had time to reach London, much less return with a message for you. Don’t worry about that now.”

“No time . . . ” Aldred’s words were but a bare whisper.

Elizabeth looked at him. She saw the life begin to ebb from his eyes. She looked to Nelia.

“Get the priest,” she mouthed, not wanting Aldred to hear her words. She turned back to her husband.

“Fight, Aldred. Stay with me.” A tear coursed down her cheek.

Aldred looked at her. “So . . . sorry. Gavin?”

He stepped forward. “I am here, my lord.” He knelt opposite Elizabeth and took Aldred’s free hand. “Please rest. Do not try and speak.”

“Late. Gavin, my boy . . . Robert . . . ” Aldred sighed. “My Elizabeth.”

She pressed his knuckles to her mouth. “I’m here, Husband. I shall not leave you. You must promise the same.” Her voice started to falter. “Do not leave me, Aldred. Please. I cannot bear you to go.”

“Kentwood . . . safe . . . Edward . . . letter . . . ”

Hot tears began to stream down her cheeks. “Kentwood is fine, my love. King Edward will not let anything happen to it. Rest, dearest. Rest.”

She closed her eyes, willing her youth and strength to flow from her into Aldred. His grasp on her hand grew weaker, though. She knew his time had drawn nigh.

“Oh, Aldred,” she whispered. “You have taught me so much. I do love you so.”

He smiled. His eyes clouded over. “Be . . . with you . . . always.”

“Yes,” she encouraged him. “Always and forever.”

A rustling caused her to turn around. Kentwood’s priest had arrived. Elizabeth admitted to herself that death was but a moment away. She nodded to the priest, and he came to the bed.

“Do what you must,” she said, “but I will not leave his side.”

The cleric nodded and began the last rites. The Latin lulled her into a half-dream state. Moments from time flickered across as she recalled her wedding. Her wedding night. Aldred’s patience as he taught her to read and write. Riding together. Sharing meals. Sitting side by side at mass.

It had been a good life for them. Not a typical marriage but successful, nonetheless. Kentwood had flourished. Aldred could go to his death, proud that his land and people thrived.

Then the slight pressure on her hand ceased. The priest continued on in the ritual. Elizabeth looked over to Gavin, who held Aldred’s other hand. His eyes glittered with unshed tears. His mouth was tight. He looked ready to snap at any moment. But when he met her gaze, a sudden look of helplessness came over him. His shoulders slumped in defeat. She wondered how many times he’d had to stand by on the battlefield and watch as a comrade died.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice low.

She closed her eyes. With her husband’s death, her true nightmare began. The day she dreaded had now finally arrived. Her destiny was no longer in her own hands.

CHAPTER 17

Gavin entered the Great Hall for the evening meal. Training had occupied his body that day, but his thoughts never strayed far from Elizabeth and her welfare. Aldred had rested in the ground two weeks now. During that time, Gavin watched as Elizabeth drove herself harder and harder, day after day, as if by making Kentwood perfect, it would bring her husband back to life again.

His eyes scanned the crowded room, looking past servants moving trestle tables into place. He spied her, deep in conversation with Cedd. He moved toward them, Homer close on his heels, and caught Cedd’s eye. The steward nodded imperceptibly to him. As he reached them, Cedd ended the conversation.

“Here is Lord Gavin, my lady,” he told Elizabeth. “Surely estate business can wait, at least till you’ve filled your belly with a meal.” Cedd looked at Elizabeth with disapproval. “You must slow down. You must eat.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “I know. ‘Tis that food seems to have lost its appeal for me.” She sighed. “We will begin again after. . .”

“After you break your fast on the morrow,” Gavin interrupted. He looked from one to the other. “’Twill be plenty of time to discuss what requires my lady’s attention, will it not, Cedd?”

The steward nodded. “Yes, my lord.” He bowed and left them alone.

Gavin smiled and held a hand out to her. “May I escort you to supper, my lady? I’m sure you will find plenty of food there that requires your attention.”

“Of course.” She placed her hand upon his sleeve, and they walked to the dais. Gavin seated her and then himself. He signaled for wine to be poured.

After their cups were filled, he held his up. “A toast, my lady. To all you have done and to the future prosperity of Kentwood.”

She gave his words a sad smile. “To Kentwood.” She took a deep pull on the wine and then set her cup down.

Servants appeared with their trencher, soon accompanied by starling, cold pork, and a few side dishes. He tore a piece from the pork and placed it under his seat. Homer immediately attacked his dinner. A large round of cheese arrived and was also placed before them.

He looked out at the food and said, “Surely some of this tempts you? Cedd is right. Even the hard-working Lady Elizabeth must take time from her busy day to eat.”

She shrugged. “I have no appetite these days. I find ‘tis much to attend to. The spring planting must be finished and one field of vines is left to be pruned. And I am sure the king will soon request an additional number of men now that the weather has warmed. You know the nature of warfare, my lord. ‘Twill begin again in earnest now that milder weather has arrived. And the sheep need to be put out to pasture, too.”

“I would hope you would not run yourself into an early grave, my lady. You must eat.”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “Food holds no attraction for me.”

“So you wish to shrink into nothing? Pray put a few bites in your mouth. Even a soldier on the march must keep up his strength.”

Gavin leaned in closer to her. “Your people worry about you, my lady. They see you working non-stop from dawn until far into the night. You must rest. ‘Tis not a race you are running.”

She looked at him earnestly. “Oh, but ‘tis just that very thing, my lord. I wrote the king of Aldred’s death a fortnight ago. I believe I have at least through inspecting the beehives in May and possibly the cutting and drying of the hay in June before he replies. If lucky, I may be able to supervise the wheat harvest in July before changes are made.”

He saw her hand begin to tremble. She sat the wine cup down and withdrew her hands to her lap before she continued.

“Surely, you understand the way of things. I will soon be gone from here. I cannot leave my people helpless. Everything must be readied for winter. Who knows what man the king will place at Kentwood’s helm? If the proper preparations are made, ‘twill make for a smoother transition.”

She bit her bottom lip and lowered her eyes, steadying herself. He reached out and placed a hand over hers.

“Everything is more than ready. You have a keen eye for detail. You have left no stone unturned. And who knows? Edward may leave you in charge of Kentwood indefinitely."

She stilled beneath his hand. She seemed so small, so defeated in that moment. He longed to sweep her into his arms and away from her troubles.

As if they had a choice.

Elizabeth’s eyes, so green and usually serene, looked into his. In them he saw the storm clouds of uncertainty that she now lived with on a daily basis.

“We both know that is a foolish notion,” she said softly. “I must await my fate and will go wherever the king has need of me. My future is his to decide.” She placed a hand over his and gave it a squeeze before pulling away. “But I thank you for your kind words. They are a comfort to me.”

He knew she was only being realistic. Noblewomen had no say in their fate. If Edward had ventured to France with the pleasant turn of weather, he might not be bothered to answer her letter until late summer. If, though, the Black Prince still led the fighting in France and his father chose to remain in England, Elizabeth could have mere weeks left to manage Kentwood before the king’s decision was made public.

And Gavin understood that would be the death of her spirit, for Kentwood was as much a part of her as breathing. She loved the place and its inhabitants with a nurturing passion. They were her family, her life. The cruelest blow would be when she read the king’s missive instructing her to leave and hand the property over to an outsider who would claim Aldred’s lands and title as his own.

If only he had Edward’s ear.
If he were still Berwyn’s son, he might risk some type of interference. The king would be well served to leave Elizabeth at Kentwood and simply provide her with a husband in need of land and a wife. She knew the land. She knew how to make it profitable. She understood harvests and defense and held the people’s loyalty. It would be hard for a stranger to come in and gain the kind of trust Elizabeth held from those at Kentwood.

But he was no longer a man of consequence in England’s realm. He knew not what blood coursed through his veins. He didn’t even know if Aldred had kept his word and sent a missive to the king, requesting that Gavin become a part of his royal guard although he thought it so, based upon Aldred’s last moments.

So Gavin found himself in limbo, and the worst kind. Not only did he have no sire and no title to claim, but he was in love.

With Elizabeth.

He didn’t know how or why it began. She’d been hostile to him at the first. Gradually, though, in his short months at Kentwood, he’d come to respect her intelligence and vast knowledge of the estate. It didn’t take long for him to realize she ran the property because Aldred no longer could. She also had great compassion for her people and would go to any length to see them happy. He admired her spirit. And her beauty.

Every night he tried to sleep, cursing himself for ever having kissed her, for betraying the trust Aldred had placed in him.

And every night he burned to touch her again, to run his fingers through those silken tresses, to touch his mouth to hers, to possess her, body and soul.

What a foolish dream that was. Elizabeth mourned a husband who had been the best of all men. She longed to stay in her home, which would be torn from under her. Gavin, as landless as a crow, was but a wanderer.

If only he could give her Kentwood, her fondest dream . . .

So he hungered for the impossible, tossing and turning in his bed each night, wondering how much more he could take. Would he even have a place in Kentwood’s guard, or would the new lord release him from service? Would he then choose to return to France, Elizabeth always in his thoughts, as he took enough risks on the battlefield in order to meet his death?

Gavin had soon realized that he did not wish to exist in a world where a new lord slept beside his Elizabeth each and every night, touching her sweet curves, kissing her ripe lips, knowing her in the most intimate of ways.

As the meal continued, Elizabeth saw the faraway look in Gavin’s eyes. She wondered where his thoughts took him. Too often hers meandered back to the breaking of dawn and a kiss made of dreams. Oh, guilt was always a constant companion when she remembered her actions that morning, even with Aldred since dead and buried. While she missed her husband terribly, at times she almost convinced herself that he would have approved of a union between her and Gavin.

Her fantasies led her in the wildest of directions. Though she had childhood memories of seeing servants making love, she put her disgust aside. What if her kiss with Gavin had led to an act of love? And what if a child had resulted?

Aldred could have claimed it as his own, without question. It would be a boy, an heir to Kentwood, and she would now be able to stay on, secure, raising her son to one day be lord of Kentwood and somehow marrying Gavin when Aldred passed on.

What senseless daydreams she wove, all because of one simple kiss.

Yet that kiss haunted her, both in waking and sleeping. She remembered it first thing when she awakened, and it was her last thought before sleep came. In between times her thoughts constantly strayed to Gavin. Every day she spent time in his company, discussing the state of the soldiers and their training. She asked advice on Kentwood, rarely needing any, but simply wanting to hear his voice.

She remembered how angry she’d been when he first arrived at Kentwood. Jealousy was a part of it, for he took time from Aldred that had once been hers. Yet, as she observed Gavin, she understood why Aldred had thought so highly of him. He was a man to be reckoned with, physically imposing, astute, perceptive, quick-witted.