Page 106

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

“V ery well,” Julian suddenly seemed very resigned. His mercurial fury had tempered and he ran his hands through his dark hair, laboring for control. “Very well, then. If we must speak of divorce, then I will speak only to you. I want to talk to you alone. Everyone else must leave this room.”

“Never,” Gart roared. “You will never be alone with her, Buckland, not if God himself stood before me and demanded it. I will kill you before I allow you to be alone with her.”

He started to move forward but Christopher rushed over and grabbed him, holding him at bay along with David. Even with the two of them and their considerable strength, it was still a struggle. It was like trying to stop a raging bull.

Julian was clever and knew how to play the game. He could play it very well when his temper didn’t have the best of him. He looked Gart in the eye.

“Then you shall not have your divorce,” he said frankly. “If you want it badly enough, you will have to make allowances. I want to speak with my wife alone without interference from anyone. Those are my terms or no divorce.”

Stricken, Emberley looked at Gart. He was barely holding himself in check, trapped between David and Christopher, and she knew that the entire situation rested on her shoulders. She was the only one that could convince Gart of what needed to be done. Setting Romney to his feet, she went to Gart.

Pressed up against his heaving chest, she put her hands on his shoulders.

“Gart, please,” she whispered. “If there is a chance he will do as we asked, then I am willing to concede to this demand.”

Gart was so angry that he was trembling, straining against David and Christopher.

“Nay,” he rumbled. “I will not permit it.”

“ Please ,” she begged softly. “Nothing will happen. You will be right on the other side of the door, listening to everything. If you hear trouble, you can come right in and save me. Please, Gart. We must do as he asks if there is the slightest chance I can obtain my divorce.”

Gart didn’t like it– God knew, he didn’t like it in the least. He was as resistant to the idea as he had ever been, hating Julian for the manipulative suggestion and more than eager to wrap his hands around the man’s throat and squeeze.

He tried to ignore the idea that Emberley might be correct, too fearful to allow her to be alone with the man. For the past several hours, it had been Emberley who had been afraid to even be near Julian. Now, she was begging to be alone with him. If only for the opportunity to discuss divorce, she was willing to try. Gart should be willing, too.

Trembling, struggling, he gazed into her pleading face and began to relent. An expression of extreme pain crossed his face.

“Kitten…,” he whispered.

She smiled bravely at him. “’Twill be all right,” she assured him softly. “You will be right outside the door. Nothing can happen. But if he is willing to discuss a divorce to me alone, then we must take the chance.”

He gritted his teeth. “ Nay .”

“Do you have a better idea, then?”

He didn’t. It was then he began to realize that he might have to allow her to do as Julian had asked. Gart hated the idea. He really did. As Emberley caressed his shoulders gently, encouragingly, he finally surrendered and hated himself for it.

“Very well.” He felt as if all of the air had been sucked out of him, weak with defeat. He looked over at Julian, standing smug and expectant. “You may speak with her alone but rest assured I will be right outside the door. If I hear any sounds other than civil conversation, I will come in here and I will kill you. Do you comprehend?”

Julian smiled thinly, nearly setting Gart off, and Emberley threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly. It was enough to distract him from his fury and he wrapped his arms around her. The feel of her, the smell of her, settled and calmed him. Face against the side of her head, he inhaled deeply of her sweet, musky fragrance.

“Go,” Emberley whispered. “Take Romney with you.”

“Nay!” Romney heard his name, crying out. “I want to stay with you!”

Emberley released Gart and bent down to her son. “You must go with Gart. I will not be long.”

Romney shook his head furiously, holding on to his mother’s arm as if afraid Gart was going to drag him away. He turned to his father.

“I want to stay with Mama,” he told Julian.

Julian waved him off. “You may stay.”

Now Gart was worried about the boy as well as Emberley but he allowed Christopher and David to turn him around and steer him towards the chamber door. Emberley put her hands on his back, helping the baron and the earl remove him. Gart was a very big man and he wasn’t moving easily.

Mellitus began to follow, motioning to the papal guards, but Jonas hesitated.

“I would like to stay,” he looked at Julian. “As a neutral witness and for safety’s sake, I would like to remain.”

“I would agree with that suggestion,” Christopher almost had Gart through the door as he spoke. “I am sure it would make the lady feel comforted.”

Julian simply shrugged his shoulders as he moved towards the hearth, pretending to inspect the enormous and elaborate mantel. He ran his hands along the wood, ignoring those exiting the room. He was focused on what he was about to do, what he must accomplish, and it would not work to his advantage to either be too eager or too resistant to the priest’s presence. The man would not get in his way.

Gart’s gaze lingered on Julian, seemingly interested in the hearth, before looking to Emberley one last time. She smiled at him and blew him a kiss, and he couldn’t help but smile in return. But that was his last glimpse of her as David and Christopher managed to get him out the door, followed by Father Mellitus and the papal guards. One of the guards shut the door softly behind him.

Gart stood right next to the door. He wasn’t going to budge and no one would force him. No one seemed to be moving from the entry hall, in fact, most of them clustered near the door as well. Only the papal guards moved off into the shadows.

Gart found a comfortable position next to the door, his ears peaked, listening for any movement or any words beyond the panel. For the moment, it remained silent. He didn’t hear a thing until from the other side of the heavy oak door, there was distinct sound of the bolt being thrown.

It was a final, sickening sound. Gart immediately grabbed the latch, seeing that it was indeed locked. David moved up beside him.

“What happened?” he jiggled the frozen lock himself. “Who locked the damn door?”

Gart knew the answer to that. Dear God, he knew the answer. He began pounding on the door.

“Buckland!” he hollered. “Open the door or I will break it down!”

Christopher, seeing the commotion, tried the lock as if he didn’t believe Gart and David. Shoving Gart aside, he lashed out a massive boot and kicked the door. The old panel shuddered but didn’t break. Panicked, Gart began ramming his big shoulder into the door jamb.

“Emberley?” he hollered. “Can you hear me? Open the door!”

He heard Emberley scream his name and he froze, a look of such horror on his face that it was difficult to fathom. He looked at David, and then Christopher, before going wild and trying to kick the door in. But the heavy, well-built door stood strong.

“Emberley!” he bellowed. “I hear you, kitten! I am coming!”

David bolted to the kitchens, racing outside and shouting across the yard toward the troop house that was down near the stables. As he roused the soldiers, Christopher and Gart continued to try to break the door down. They could hear screaming and things breaking from the other side.

Gart was beside himself with terror. He was ramming into the door so hard that he’d managed to strike his head against it, drawing blood.

“Is there another way in?” he demanded.

Christopher shook his head. “Only this door,” he told him. “The exterior windows are too narrow to enter. The house was built so that each room can act autonomously if the manse is breached. This door can withstand almost anything.”

That wasn’t the answer Gart wanted to hear. He could hear more screaming and objects breaking and he was crazed with fear.

“We need something to break the door down with,” he grabbed the earl with his bloodied knuckles. “We cannot break this door down without assistance.”

David came barreling back into the entry hall at that moment. He had a battle axe in his hands.

“Here,” he tossed it to Gart. “Breach the door.”

Gart deftly caught the axe, planted his feet, and swung the pike-end of it at the door. Pieces of wood flew off but it was going to take time. Gart began swinging with all his might.

“I have more men coming,” David told them, breathing heavily from having run to the yard and then to the armory. “They are bringing axes and weapons.”

“She will be dead before they get here,” Gart grunted, hacking away at the junction just above the bolt. “If I can just make a hole in the door, I can get my arm in and unlock it.”

Above their heads on the staircase landing, they heard weeping. Gart didn’t bother to look up, but David and Christopher did. Emilie was standing there, sobbing with fear.

“What has happened?” she wept. “Where is Emberley?”

David raced up the stairs to his wife, taking her in his arms. He didn’t quite know how to explain that they had been duped by a madman, feeling sick and ashamed.

“It is all right, sweetling,” he held her close. “We will get to her.”

“But… she is screaming!” Emilie wept. “He is killing her! Oh, please, hurry!”

“Gart is moving as fast as he can,” David was wrought with terror, too. He knew they were all listening to a murder taking place. “He will save her.”

Even as he spoke the words, a great screaming arose from the room. Not only could they hear Emberley’s screams but Romney’s cries as well, his high-pitched howls joining his mother’s. It was a harrowing sound, pitiful and panicked. They were speaking as they were screaming, shrieking words that no one could understand.

Everyone in the entry hall was filled with anguish at the sounds, but no one more than Gart. He continued to swing away at the door, tears streaming down his face. He swung so hard that his arms nearly fell off but nothing was going to prevent him from getting through that door to Emberley and Romney. He could hear their combined screaming, the sounds filled with terror. It was destroying him.

And then… silence.

*

Emberley had been moving to one of the chairs with Romney while Julian meandered over near the hearth. As she sat in the chair, she looked up in time to see Julian throw the bolt on the reception room door. Before she could react, Julian suddenly brought up the fire poker he had picked up from his inspection of the hearth and brought it down on Father Jonas’ skull.

The priest never had a chance. He had been facing Emberley and Romney and never saw it coming. He fell to the floor, his skull split, and Emberley screamed with terror. Julian was suddenly running at her with the poker and she bolted up from the chair, running for her life.

“Gart!” she screamed.

Julian swung the poker at her, missing her by a wide margin and slamming it into a chair.

“He cannot help you,” he snarled. “You foolish bitch– did you truly think I would grant you a divorce? Did you truly believe I would reward you for shaming and disobeying me?”

Emberley was in a panic, struggling to keep her wits about her as Julian chased her around the room, swinging the poker and smashing valuable and expensive pieces as he went. They could hear banging on the door and men shouting, trying to break in, but the old, oak door, built to withstand a siege should the enemy break into the house, held fast.

“Julian, stop!” she begged. “Please stop!”

He wasn’t listening to her. He was fully committed to smashing her skull with the poker just as he had smashed the priest’s and the more he chased her, the more excited he became.

“You have always been disobedient and insolent,” he seethed, swinging at her again as she neared one of the lancet windows and getting the poker tangled up in a tapestry that hung there. “I should have killed you long ago but you were beautiful and gave me three strong sons, so I allowed you to live. Now I hear that you are pregnant with Forbes’ child? I shall kill you for it!”

Emberley screamed as he came close and narrowly missed clipping her in the back. She raced across the room, dodging fallen chairs and the broken table that Julian had so willfully smashed. More banging filled the room as shouts and threats emitted from the other side of the locked door but still, the sturdy oak and iron held fast. No one could budge it.

“Gart!” she screamed again. “Help!”

Julian crowed with laughter as he cornered her by the edge of the room and a table. Emberley tried to dodge the flying poker but this time, it caught her in the arm. She shrieked with pain, grabbing hold of the gash he had inflicted.

“Forbes cannot help you,” Julian was fed by the bloodlust, an almost spiritual experience for him. “Come now, wife. Do not make me chase you any longer. Come to me like a good girl and face your punishment.”

Emberley was racing all around the room, trying to avoid Julian and his swinging poker. She could see Romney in the corner of the chamber, absolutely terrified as his mother fought for her life. But she couldn’t focus on the boy too long, afraid that Julian would catch up to her if she did. She had to stay alive.

Julian was growing weary of swinging. He tried to leap over a chair to get to Emberley but she dodged him and he ended up falling, twisting his wrist. Furious, he fell back, holding his wrist, suddenly noticing Romney cowering against the wall. He reached out and grabbed the boy by the hair. Romney screamed and swung his fists.

“Nay!” Emberley cried. “Leave him alone!”

Julian cocked a confident eyebrow. “Come here and I shall.”

Emberley was cringing on the other side of the room, tears on her face as she watched Julian hurt Romney. She knew she could not allow the man to harm her child no matter what the consequences. She thought of Gart, of Orin and Brendt and Lacy, and of the child she carried in her belly. So many people depended on her, people she loved with all her heart and soul. She had so much to live for. But none of that mattered if she let just one of those precious souls sacrifice themselves when she could prevent it.

“I will,” she swallowed her tears, pushing down the terror for Romney’s sake. “Let him go and I will come to you.”

Julian yanked the boy by the hair again. “Come to me now or I will not let him go.”

Emberley didn’t hesitate. She went to Julian and he lashed out a fist, catching her in the jaw and sending her to the ground.

As Emberley fell, Romney yanked himself from his father’s grasp and ran away, all the way to the other end of the room. He wanted to run further but he couldn’t. He knew what was going to happen and he knew he had to stop it. He had to protect his mother.

Fumbling around in his tunic, he pulled out Gart’s dagger that he had stolen from the table in his mother’s bedchamber. The moment he had feared had finally come and he wondered if he was brave enough to do as he must. For his mother’s sake, he had to. He began to move towards his father.

Julian had his back to Romney as he stalked Emberley, now struggling to pick herself off the floor. He lifted the poker over his head, getting a good grip on the iron pole as he prepared to do his worst.

“I should have done away with you years ago,” Julian hissed. “Now you shall know what it means to be punished. You are a foolish, wicked woman, Emberley. For the humiliation you have caused me, you shall feel my wrath.”

Emberley was only half-conscious, hearing his words but having no idea where he was. She could hardly see for the spinning room and she struggled to move away, in any direction, hoping that it would be away from Julian and his madness. She knew he meant to kill her and she labored to collect her wits enough to run again, but she couldn’t seem to manage it. The blow to the head had her reeling and she was fumbling in the dark.

She couldn’t even manage to be terrified at the moment. All she could feel was desperation to get away, to survive, to continue to fight. Rolling onto her back, she saw that Julian was right on top of her, the poker held high. She lifted her left arm to block the blow, hoping it would be enough.

As Julian drew the poker back with the intention of smashing it downward into her head, the man suddenly howled with pain and the poker fell to the floor.

Julian grabbed his back and thrashed, falling to the floor in fits. Emberley screamed as the man came down on top of her legs, blood gushing from a dagger rammed into the small of his back. Looking up, she saw Romney standing behind his father, a look of shock and terror across his young face. There was blood on his hands.

Romney’s eyes met with his mother’s and the boy suddenly burst into loud, terrified sobs. Panicked, he reached down and picked up the fallen poker, slamming it into Julian’s back and legs again and again.

He was screaming louder and louder as he continued to beat his father, hearing his mother scream his name but not acknowledging her. Romney was in a world of such terror that he had to kill the source of it, the only thing he knew to do, stamping out the source of his fear. He had to beat it until it was dead.

Sobbing heavily, he struck Julian one more time, weakly, before dropping the poker to the floor. Emberley was shrieking with fright, with horror, and Romney was sobbing as if his heart were breaking. He could hear men yelling from the opposite side of the closed reception room door, and someone was ramming into it heavily, attempting to dislodge the lock.

With bloody hands, wiping at his tear-stained face, Romney went to open the door.