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CHAPTER SIX

T he day was remarkably sunny and clear as the party from Dunster Castle traveled to the rather large village of Minehead, a little less than a mile to the northwest of the castle. The sounds of the ocean filled the air as Gart rode at the head of the party astride his vicious black and white charger, followed by a carriage that contained Emberley and the children. The carriage was surrounded by twenty men-at-arms personally sworn to Gart.

He had sixty retainers that traveled with him everywhere, men that were highly trained and carried the same sense of battle aggression that Gart did. They were a hard bunch, loyal to the core, intermingled with de Lohr ranks since David was Gart’s liege. But on this trip, Gart’s men alone had the escort duty.

Emberley sat in the carriage with Orin next to her and Lacy on her lap, smelling deeply the scent of the sea as they passed through the softly rolling hills that led to Minehead. She felt better than she had in days, her spirit renewed with the departure of Julian and the company of Gart, and her body healing quickly from the beating. She was actually happy, something she didn’t normally feel, as she gazed off across the ocean and watched the seagulls ride the salty drafts.

Emberley could see Gart at the head of the column, riding strong and proud astride his black and white steed, and she realized that she had been watching him a good deal of the time. When she wasn’t gazing at the sea, or the birds, she was watching his broad back. As Lacy fell asleep against her, sucking her thumb, Emberley settled back against the seat with her gaze still riveted to Gart.

Her mind began to wander to the days of her youth when she remembered her brother and Gart as young men of fifteen or sixteen years of age. It was right before she had gone to foster and she remembered that Gart was extremely tall for his age, a good-looking young man returned for the winter season from fostering at Kenilworth Castle. Erik, too, was fostering at Kenilworth and had come home to see his ailing mother. Gart had come with him simply because he had nowhere else to go. Emberley remembered the young man, so handsome and poised, until Erik, the ringleader, would whip them both into a frenzy and they would wreak good-natured havoc. She missed those days.

Although Gart had always been kind to her, she had never received the impression that it was anything more than polite concern. As she watched him ride ahead of the column, she could only surmise that in this situation, too, it was polite concern, but Gart’s entire manner had changed over the past twelve years. He had grown up, acquired depth of character, and she would swear until the day he died that some of the exchanges between them had gone beyond polite concern. There was warmth to the man, a spark in his eye, and she had to admit she found it wildly attractive. She was sure that Julian had killed any ability she had to feel something for the opposite sex, but with the reintroduction of Gart Forbes, she was coming to think that she was not dead inside, after all.

In her arms, Lacy cuddled close in her sleep and Orin, sitting next to her, was leaning against his mother, dozing. Emberley’s dark blue eyes drifted over her beautiful children. If only they were Gart’s children. She realized, at that moment, that she would have sold her soul for that opportunity. Perhaps, for a time, she could just pretend they were. It would be a bright spot in an otherwise colorless life, her little secret to carry with her to her grave.

Lost to her thoughts as she watched Gart’s proud posture, Minehead came into view and she was distracted from Gart by the sight of the sprawling village. It spread out over the softly rolling hills in little, brown bumps with dozens of tendrils of gray smoke trailing into the sky from cooking fires. Just as they crested the hill of the road that led down into the berg, Gart reined his charger about and made his way back to the carriage. Mud sprayed from his horse’s hooves as he barked orders to his men. He flipped his visor up as he reached the carriage, a faint smile on his lips. Emberley smiled in return.

“We have arrived,” he said, looking at Romney and Brendt as they hung over the side of the carriage to catch a glimpse. “Where shall we go first?”

Emberley stretched her neck, trying to get a look at the town without waking the children sleeping on her.

“There is a neighborhood with merchants over to the west,” she told him. “There is the Street of the Farmers and next to that is the Street of the Merchants. This road will fork at the base of the hill and you will go left.”

He nodded shortly, snapping more orders to the men around him, and the party took off again. They began the slow trek down the hill with Gart riding alongside the carriage astride his excitable charger. The animal danced about, switching his bound tail angrily, as Romney and Brendt tried to reach out and catch it. It made for quite a game until Gart moved the animal away to a safe distance.

“Since we have come to town to buy you something nice, where would you like to go?” he asked Emberley. “Surely there is something lovely or expensive that you would like.”

She looked at him, shaking her head reprovingly, but there was a smile on her lips. “I told you that you do not have to buy me anything,” she reiterated. “But I would like to purchase some durable fabric for the boys. There are merchants in town that carry such goods. The children seem to go through clothing so quickly.”

He looked down his nose at her. “If you refuse me again, I shall become quite angry.”

She lifted a defiant eyebrow in response. “Is that so?”

“It is.”

She lifted her shoulders lazily. “There is nothing you can do about it so I suggest you focus your energies elsewhere.”

He sighed heavily, with exaggeration. “You ungrateful woman. I will focus my energies on my palm to your backside if you do not show more cooperation.”

She fought off a grin. “You would spank me if I do not let you buy me something?”

“That is the general idea.”

By this time, Romney and Brendt were listening. Romney’s young face was taut with rage and fear.

“You will not spank my mother,” he put a hand out as if to shove Gart away. “I will not let you do it. I will kill you if you try.”

Gart and Emberley lost all of their humor. “I was only jesting, Romney,” Gart said evenly and sincerely. “I would never lay a hand on your mother. I would rather die than hurt her in any way. Surely you know that.”

“Rom,” Emberley reached out to her eldest child, gently, and pulled him against her. “You are such a brave young lad. But surely you know that Sir Gart would never, ever harm any of us. He is our friend.”

Romney was angry but he eased up when his mother kissed his forehead. He eyed Gart, still suspicious.

“Well,” he said reluctantly. “I guess he is.”

Emberley hugged her boy. “Of course he is, sweetheart. He has been my friend for a very long time.”

Next to the cab, Gart leaned down, bracing a massive arm against his thigh. He found that he wanted to soothe the confused, angry boy. “I will protect your mother, and you, always.”

Romney cocked his head. “Like a guardian angel?”

Gart snorted softly and straightened in the saddle, a grin on his face. “Exactly like a guardian angel.”

“You do not look like an angel.”

Gart lifted an eyebrow. “Have you seen one?”

Romney shook his head. “Nay,” he replied. “But the priests say that angels have a golden light around their head and carry harps. Your head is dark and you carry a sword.”

Gart’s lips twitched with a smile. “Archangels carry a sword. Perhaps I am the archangel Gabriel.”

“I thought you did not like to be called Gabriel,” Emberley whispered with a smile.

He wriggled his eyebrows at her. “That is because archangels do not wish to go around announcing themselves to everyone. Only to special people.”

He winked at her and she giggled, shaking her head reproachfully at him. Romney fell silent, contemplating that particular bit of information, as they entered the outskirts of the village. It was the day before Sunday and the town was busy with people– travelers, customers and merchants. But what Emberley had completely forgotten was that it was the time of year for the annual Obby Oss festival, and the town was absolutely packed as they traveled deeper into the berg.

With all of the noise and bustle, Lacy and Orin woke up, and Emberley tried to get a better look at what was going on around them. The entire town was jammed.

Even Gart was impressed by the amount of people in town. He couldn’t see all of the commotion from their vantage point on the road, only as they traveled deeper into the town. There were people everywhere.

“Is it always this busy?” he asked.

Emberley shook her head. “Nay,” she replied. “I completely forgot that it is the time of year for the annual Obby Oss festival. These people must be here for the faire.”

Gart looked at her. “ Obby Oss ? What is that?”

She grinned when Romney and Orin caught sight of mummers and began yelling. “They will parade a wooden horse around town and it is supposed to bring good fortune,” she raised her voice over her children’s screaming. “There will also be food and entertainment. Usually, they have a joust exhibition. It is quite exciting. With everything that has happened over the past few days, I completely forgot about it.”

He could see the mummer that the children were yelling about. The man was dressed in colorful clothing with wooden shoes and a big, colorful cap. He had four white dogs around him doing tricks. Gart looked at the boys, nearly falling out of the carriage in their excitement, and he called a halt to the party in the middle of the busy street.

Climbing off his muzzled warhorse, he handed the animal off to one of his men and went to the carriage. He reached up and pulled Romney out, but Orin didn’t want to wait so he practically jumped on Gart in his haste to get out. Gart lowered both boys to the muddy ground, telling them not to run off while he reached inside again and pulled out Brendt. Now all three boys were at his feet, dancing around with anticipation, as Gart opened the cab door to help Emberley out.

She handed him the baby, who latched on to his big neck and began kissing all over his helm because she couldn’t get to his face. With Lacy in one arm, Gart reached out and took Emberley’s hand, helping her down from the carriage.

“Mama!” Romney implored. “The man. ”

Emberley pointed to the mummer. “Go and see him,” she said. “But do not run off. And pay attention to where….”

Unfortunately, she didn’t get it out of her mouth fast enough. Romney and Orin tore off, immediately crashing into a well-dressed man who was emerging from the ointment broker’s stall.

Emberley gasped as the boys bounced off the man, knocked the sack out of his hand, and continued running. The fat man with the big jowls teetered back, watching the boys run away. Brendt, who hadn’t crashed into the man, zipped past and the outraged old man tried to grab him. Thankfully, Brendt went by untouched.

“See here,” he scolded, turning to see Emberley and Gart standing a few feet away. “Are those your unruly children? You should teach them manners!”

Embarrassed, Emberley opened her mouth to apologize but Gart handed her the baby, pulled off his helm, and got in the man’s face. He towered over the fat, old man, big and powerful and intimidating. Surely there were no more frightening things in life than an enraged knight, and Gart went over and above simply frightening. He was red in the face and terrifying.

“If I were you, I would watch who I gave advice to on the subject of child rearing,” he growled. “Those boys are clever, brilliant and resourceful and perhaps next time, you should pay attention to where you are walking. And if you ever make a grab for one of those boys again, you will draw away a bloody stump. Is this in any way unclear?”

The old man paled dramatically, absolutely terrified. He could only nod his head before stumbling backwards, collecting his fallen sack, and shuffling off as fast as his tubby legs would carry him. Gart watched the man run off, his green eyes hard and furious, before returning his attention to Emberley. He gazed at her a moment and an apparent change came over him. He calmed dramatically and the fire went out of his eyes.

Without a word, he took his helm from her, tossed it into the carriage, and took Lacy from her arms. In silence, he carried the little girl over to the mummer where her brothers were being entertained.

Emberley watched him with astonishment. She had never in her life seen anyone defend her children, not even their father, so it was something of a shock to see Gart actually step into the role of protector. Even though he had declared his intentions to them all, to be their protector, to see him in action was something to behold.

But in the same breath, his defense of her children touched her like nothing she had ever known. It softened her, swelling her heart with gratitude and appreciation. It also broke down the barriers that were trying so hard to keep her infatuation at bay. The barriers were coming down and she could feel herself weakening, knowing how horribly wrong it was but not particularly caring. She had wished all her life for a man like Gart Forbes. It broke her heart to know that what she wished for could never be.

Silently, she went to where Gart and her children were standing, watching the mummer with his trained dogs. The group was watching one of the dogs walk on its front paws, laughing loudly at the antics. As she strolled up, Gart had to reach out a hand to pull Brendt away from the dog. The little boy very much wanted to pick it up. She stood next to Gart, watching her children laugh, when she began to feel his gaze upon her. She never even had to look at him. She just knew he was looking at her.

Without a word, she slipped her hand into the crook of his right elbow. She could make the excuse that she was only touching her daughter, cradled in the man’s enormous right arm, but that wasn’t the truth. The truth was that she just wanted to touch Gart. Greedily, secretly, she stood there and held him.

“Mama!” Orin suddenly turned to her. “Where are thweets?”

She smiled at her lazy-tongued son. “I am not sure,” she said, looking around. “We will find some, not to worry. Are you finished watching the dogs?”

The boys all turned to her, nodding eagerly, and she finally dared to look up at Gart. His gaze was steady upon her, his smile faint but unmistakable. He turned to his men and ordered them to find someplace nearby to park the carriage. Ten men-at-arms broke off from the group and went in search of a rest area while Gart, Emberley, the children and another ten men-at-arms continued down the avenue.

The day was brilliant as they walked down the dirt street, avoiding piles of horse dung and pools of animal urine as they walked. Gart carried the baby, who had her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and her cheek hugged up against his. Emberley offered to take the little girl from him, twice, but he refused. He looked rather content so she didn’t press. When she dropped her hand from the crook of his elbow, he switched Lacy to the opposite arm and reached out to take Emberley’s hand with his free hand.

His enormous mitt closed in over her soft, warm fingers. Startled, feeling her chest swell with excitement at what could be considered an intimate action, she held his hand tightly. She was thrilled beyond measure, living greedily in her secret little world where Gart belonged to her and there was no Julian, no horrors of a brutal husband. But her secret dreams were shattered when Brendt took off running. Gart quickly handed Lacy to her mother and took off after the little boy.

Romney and Orin stopped before a woodworker as Gart chased Brendt down. The two older boys were fascinated with the wooden toys the man had on display– little carts and wooden horses, wooden shields and wooden swords. They were particularly in love with the swords and Emberley had to repeatedly tell them not to touch them. Unhappy, they began to beg and whine and she turned away from them, unwilling to give in to their demands. Across the avenue, she spied Gart approaching with Brendt tucked under one arm.

Brendt was squealing because Gart was carrying him sideways, like a parcel. The child was delighted, giggling, and Gart turned him upside down and pretended to plant his head in the mud once they reached his mother. Brendt giggled uncontrollably until Gart turned him right-side up and put him on his feet.

“No more running away,” Gart wagged a stern finger in his face. “Do you hear me? If you run off again, I will not buy you any sweets.”

Brendt’s giggles were gone and he nodded seriously. Gart gave him a lingering look just for emphasis as he turned to Emberley.

She was smiling at him. “Where was he running to?” she asked.

He threw a thumb back over his shoulder. “There is a man over there with a goat that was dancing on its hind legs.”

Emberley’s features relaxed in understanding. “He loves goats,” she sighed, then pointed to the woodworker where her three boys were now gleefully inspecting the goods. “I have a bigger problem now. This man makes little wooden swords and shields and I fear I shall not get the boys away from this stall without great drama.”

Gart didn’t think it was a problem at all. He purchased three little wooden shields and three little wooden swords over Emberley’s protests. Thrilled to be well-armed knights, Romney, Orin and Brendt began attacking each other before Gart had fully paid for everything. Giving the woodworker a tidy sum for the little toys, Gart stilled the three combatants before the situation got out of hand. He could see that they were already far too enthusiastic about killing each other. When Brendt refused to stop, he pulled the toy sword away and held it out of his reach so he had the boy’s attention.

“Now,” he said firmly. “Along with these weapons comes responsibility. You must not hit each other in the head with them. You must not try to stab each other when them. Keep them away from your eyes. The first time someone gets hurt because of carelessness, I will take away everyone’s toys and hold them until such time as I feel you are ready to accept the responsibility again. Is that clear?”

“How long would you keep them?” Romney demanded.

“Years.”

Gart said it so seriously that Emberley bit off a smile, watching the distressed expressions on her sons’ faces. Romney and Orin looked at each other apprehensively before returning their attention to the enormous knight.

“We will be careful,” Romney said.

“Promith!” Orin piped up.

Gart cocked an eyebrow at them. “Very well,” he handed the sword back to Brendt. “Behave yourselves.”

Properly subdued, the boys took their toys and followed their mother and Gart down the avenue. Emberley let her grin burst forth when she knew the boys couldn’t see her.

“You are very good with children,” Emberley commented, eyeing her boys as they attempted not to hurt each other with their new toys. “You must have received experience somewhere.”

Gart shook his head. “No experience.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

She looked up at him, a smile on her lips. “Then you have a natural talent for it and will make an excellent father,” she said. “Your children will be very lucky.”

He looked at her, feeling strangely sad at that statement. He’d only spent four days with Emberley and her children but it felt as if he’d spent an eternity with them. He fought down the familiar feeling of wishing they belonged to him, struggling against the sadness it provoked.

“Perhaps someday,” he said quietly.

Emberley sensed his depressed mood but she wasn’t sure why. She shifted the baby from one arm to the other as they walked.

“I always wondered if Erik would have married and had children,” she said softly. “Do you not want to get married someday, Gart?”

He sighed with resignation, turning to glance at the boys when he heard wood against wood. The three of them froze when they saw that Gart’s attention was on them and they tried to look very innocent. Gart eyes narrowed at them, although it was without force, before returning his attention to Emberley.

“To be truthful, I have not thought much about it,” he replied. “My vocation makes marriage difficult at this time.”

“But if the right woman presented herself, you would consider it, would you not?” she pressed. “You really should be married.”

He looked at her. “Why does this concern you so much?”

She shrugged, trying to appear casual. “Because you are a good man and would make a wonderful husband. I do not want to see you waste the opportunity.”

He didn’t like this subject. It made him want to say things to her that were inappropriate and painful. He fully realized that the only woman he wanted was already married and it was a sickening awareness. He didn’t want to talk about it.

“Look,” he pointed to a merchant across the avenue, diverting her off the subject. “That merchant has piles of fabric. Did you not want to purchase some for the boys?”

Emberley knew he was shifting the subject. Either he hated the thought of marriage in general or he truly didn’t care. So she allowed him to direct her towards the fabric merchant, making sure the boys were following her as she walked. Just as their group crossed the busy avenue, the fat man who had nearly crashed into the boys minutes earlier suddenly appeared. He had several soldiers with him, pointing to Gart and his group.

“Him!” he howled. “He threatened me. Punish him!”

People began screaming and running as Gart and his soldiers geared for a fight. As Gart’s men began to strategically position themselves, Gart grabbed the three boys in one arm and Emberley in the other, and shoved them into the merchant stall that contained the material.

It was crowded and dark inside, smelling like damp wool. Emberley turned her frightened face to him but he cut her off before she had a chance to speak.

“Stay here,” he commanded. “Do not come out until I tell you to.”

Eyes filled with terror, Emberley barely had a chance to nod before he was unsheathing his broadsword and charging out into the street. Wisely, Emberley gathered the boys and herded them as far away from the door as she could because she didn’t want them to get hurt should the fighting veer in their direction. They had never experienced a battle in their lives and she wanted to protect them as much as she could. Things like this never happened in their world. But as they stood there in a frightened huddle, Emberley’s curiosity got the best of her. Handing Lacy over to Romney, she crept towards the open door as the sounds of metal upon metal filled the air.

Emberley spied Gart immediately. He was without his helm, as it was still in the carriage, his massive broadsword arcing in the morning sunshine like the sword of an avenging angel. The Archangel Gabriel , he had called himself. It was the only time she had ever heard him refer to himself by his given name. As she watched him aggressively go after his opponents, she began to see that it was the truth. He fought with the power of heaven, embattled now with two men. He was talented and strong, making short work of the men fighting against him.

Gart was precise in his actions. He held his sword with two hands, lunging at his opponents and then spinning away when they engaged him, turning a full circle and coming up behind the men and shoving them to the ground. One man he had been forced to kill when the man brought his sword up at Gart’s head, but the second man surrendered, wounded, and rolled off to the side. Gart kicked the man far away to ensure he would not rise before returning his attention to the battle in the street.

He had an innate sense of a fight. He knew what his opponent was thinking and he counteracted accordingly. There was no wasted motion with the man. Every thrust and every parry had a purpose. He locked swords with one burly soldier, spun around and threw an armored elbow into the man’s face, sending him crashing in an explosion of blood. It was a spectacular and brutal move.

Emberley continued to watch him, entranced at the power and skill of the man, when the fat, old man who had started the conflict suddenly appeared in the doorway. Before Emberley could move away, he grabbed her by the hair.

“I have her!” he shouted, pulling her out of the doorway. “I have your wife, knight! If you value your life, you will….”

Before he could finish, Romney and Orin rushed at the old man with their wooden swords. Orin poked the man in the thigh but Romney rammed his sword straight into the man’s groin because it was at the young boy’s arm-level. The old man howled and released Emberley, falling to the ground with his hands over his privates. Romney and Orin pounced, beating the man about the head with their wooden swords and shields.

“You cannot hurt my mother!” Romney was screaming as he hit the man in the face with his wooden shield. “You leave her alone!”

As Emberley caught her balance and went to grab her boys, an enormous body was suddenly in between her and her sons. Gart, bloody sword in one hand, reached down with his left arm and scooped both Romney and Orin up into his grasp. He whirled on Emberley and handed her the boys in one swift movement.

“Are you well?” he demanded as he deposited the boys against her. “Did he hurt you?”

Emberley shook her head fearfully. “I am fine.”

His green eyes were in battle mode but she swore she saw them soften, just for a moment, as he gazed at her. Then he was back at the soldiers who were attacking him, kicking men away and using his enormous fists to punch them in the face.

Emberley stood in the doorway, holding the boys against her as she watched Gart dispatch at least six men personally. The others were put away by his soldiers and those that were left simply faded away. A pair of them reached down to collect the old man, still wallowing in the dirt, and dragged him away from the scene. As quickly as it started, the battle finished with an eerie and uncomfortable silence to follow.

For several long moments, no one spoke or moved. People began poking their heads out of stalls where they had run for cover, eventually emerging into the sunshine and staying clear of the four dead and wounded soldiers that lay in the muddy street. Gart whistled loudly between his teeth, sending his men into a defensive stance to ensure that no one else was left to fight as he went to Emberley and the children.

They were still huddled in the doorway of the fabric merchant, five pairs of big, blue eyes gazing up at him. Gart was in battle mode, taking a deep breath to calm himself, as he sheathed his broadsword. His focus was on the boys.

“You,” he pointed at Romney. “That was a very brave thing you did to protect your mother but you could have gotten yourself killed. In the future, you will let me do the fighting since I am bigger than you are and presumably better prepared. Is that understood?”

Romney looked both confused and flattered. “I was very brave?”

Gart nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Very,” he concurred. “But you must know that it would upset me greatly if you were injured. You do not want to upset me, do you?”

Romney shook his head and Gart winked at him. “Good lad,” he looked at Orin. “You, too, it would hurt me very much if you were injured. Although you are brave like your brother, you will not do that again. Is that clear?”

Orin, his eyes wide, nodded seriously. With that business settled, Gart finally turned his attention to Emberley.

She was gazing back at him with warmth and appreciation. Gart didn’t even know what to say to her. It was the most wonderful expression he had ever seen. For lack of a better response, he simply cupped her face and kissed her gently on the cheek to assure her all was well. The smell of her filled his nostrils, the delicate scent of flowers and skin, but he would not let himself dwell on it. It hurt his heart knowing she could never be his.

Emberley didn’t let him go so quickly. As he kissed her and pulled away, she grasped his face with both hands and planted a warm kiss right on his mouth. Their eyes met for a moment and sparks flew, lightning bolts that filled them both with indescribable sensations of excitement and attraction. Seized with the moment, Gart forgot himself and moved in for another kiss, but Emberley backed away as if suddenly realizing what she had done.

“Are… are you all right, Gart?” she asked, refusing to look at him. “You were not injured, were you?”

Heart thumping painfully against his ribs, Gart stood there and stared at her. “Nay,” he said after a moment, licking his lips to see if he could still taste her. “I am not injured.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am sure.”

Lacy suddenly began to whine, holding her arms up to her mother, and Emberley picked the little girl up. She still wouldn’t look at Gart.

“If you have no objections, then, I will look for fabric for the boys,” she said, turning for the merchant’s hut. “I will only be a moment.”

Gart impulsively grabbed her arm before she could get away. “Em…,” he began.

She turned to him, lifting her eyes, and he swore he could see emotions rolling through the dark blue depths. The lightning bolts were still there, rolling like distant thunder. He could feel them as he gazed into her sweet face.

“Aye?” she asked, somewhat reluctantly.

His gaze lingered on her a moment longer, realizing that four pairs of young eyes were gazing up at him. He didn’t want to say anything unsuitable or make a fool of himself. But he swore, at that moment, that this wasn’t the end of the lightning, not by a long shot. He wanted to feel it again.

“You…,” he started, cleared his throat, and continued. “Are you sure you were not injured when he grabbed you?”

She smiled. “Nay,” she said. “I am so sorry, Gart. We did not mean to cause trouble.”

His eyebrows rose. “Cause trouble? Why would you say that?”

“Because the boys ran into that man,” she explained haltingly, trying to voice her thoughts. “He was rightfully angry. The boys should have been more careful and I did not mean that we should cause trouble.”

Gart looked down at the boys, all gazing up at him with something between open curiosity and abject admiration. He put an enormous hand on Romney’s head.

“You did not cause trouble,” he said softly, looking back at Emberley. “It was an accident and our fat friend reacted poorly. I would not worry overly.”

“But you threatened him,” she said softly.

He was unapologetic. “He deserved it.”

Emberley started to reply but the man with the dancing goat suddenly walked by with the animal up on its hind legs and Brendt went mad. Emberley grabbed him before he could run but Gart put his big hand over hers.

“I will take him to see the goat,” he nodded his head in the direction of the merchant’s stall. “Go and inspect your fabric.”

She resisted slightly. “Are you sure it is safe? There are no more soldiers intent to do us all harm?”

He looked around, at his men stationed along the street, and shook his head. “Not unless they are idiots,” he assured her. “I seriously doubt there will be additional trouble. Rest your mind.”

Emberley couldn’t help but smile at him, struggling to resist the lightning that threatened again. It was starting to come too easily. As the minutes passed, the storm brewing between them was gaining strength. She knew it was as wrong as it could possibly be but she couldn’t seem to resist.

She went to inspect material, alone, with warm thoughts of Gart Forbes on her mind.