Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

Peter had followed through with his promise of returning her to bed after they broke their fast. It had been the sweetest coupling. Tears had sprung to her eyes as he held her close. She knew he was saying goodbye.

"I'm sorry to be leaving you so soon." Peter rubbed his lips against the top of her head where she rested against his chest. "I will dream of you being in my arms every night."

Brighit brushed the tear off her cheek before it fell to his bare chest. "You are a soldier, my lord. Your King has sent orders. You need to obey."

He tipped his head to look into her face. "So you believe telling me all the things I know will somehow ease my longing to remain here with you?"

"No." She forced down the lump in her throat. She refused to have him leave with her in tears. "Where has John gone?"

"He returned to the inn to send word to his troops. They will advance to the castle in preparation for the siege."

"A siege?"

"We will ask to enter the castle. If they do not open their gates to us, we will cut off anyone and everything from entering or leaving. We will bombard their walls with our trebuchets until we either break through their walls or they open their gates."

Her sadness turned to fear. He could certainly die if battle ensued. She should have realized that. She could lose him just when she found him.

"What will you do when I leave?"

"I am yours now. What would you have me do?"

He kept his eyes on her. "I do not consider you a possession with no thoughts of your own. What is it you would like to do?"

The tears came anyway. He sat up and gathered her more fully against him. "No. No tears. You will break my will in two. Shhh."

He stroked her hair.

"I will be alone. I know not what I should even want to do."

His body tensed. His hand ceased its movement. "Would you prefer to return with your brother and his men?"

"No! I do not wish to leave... here."

His brown eyes searched her face. He pushed a wayward lock of hair from her face. His smile reached his eyes. "I'm happy to hear you say that."

"Who are these people that will not open their gates to you? Are they not your King's men?"

He tipped his head, running his thumb along her lip. He kissed her. "The King believed the man inside was loyal. By not opening his gates, he will be showing his defiance of the King's orders."

Her whole body wished for the man to just open his gates so that Peter could come back to her. "Is there any hope that the man will open his gates to you?"

"There seems to be no hope at all."

Peter moved to sit along the side of the bed, pushing the curtain aside. The touch of the cold air against her skin felt like a bad omen. She wrapped the coverings around her. He stood to secure his hose. His tunic was next. She watched until all of his body was covered, hoping to etch him so strongly into her mind that even while he was gone, it might feel as if he were with her still.

"I must meet with John. Did you remember anything else about Ivan and his men? Or your uncle's encounter with Leofrid?"

She shrugged. "I believe I have told you all that I remember. I am sorry there is not more."

"It is enough." He smiled. "I've given orders that you are to use this room as your ow—"

"Peter, I cannot. I am no one of importance. How could I dare?"

His gaze was steady. "Hear me. I am of great importance to the King. And the wife of one of the King's most treasured knights will be protected. Do you understand? I have yet to find out what Ivan and your uncle are about. I will have you safely within this Priory. This room you will make as your own in my absence. Odo knows me. He would not begrudge you being here. Trust me in this."

A huge rock had been deposited in the pit of her stomach with his declaration. She would prefer to have been near Ruth and the baby or even Martha at night.

"Yes. I will use this room as my own." He opened his arms and she kneeled on the bed beside him. She leaned against his chest.

"Mmm, I will miss how this feels. Our time has been too short."

She nodded against him. When he pulled back, he gently grasped her chin to tip her head back to receive his passionate kiss. His arms wrapped rigidly around her as if to stay his hands from caressing her.

When he loosened his hold to step back, Brighit moved to follow him to the door. He held up his hand.

"Please. Let me leave you here. This is where I want you. And when I return, this is where I want to find you."

Peter backed away three steps before turning to the door, closing it behind him without a glance back.

Brighit lay on the bed and stared at the canopy over her head for a long time. There were no movements outside her door. No one came to knock or check on her. Eventually she turned onto her side. Sleep was long in coming despite the tiredness that filled her. When it did, she had dreams of dark voids and haunting voices that seemed to reassure her she would never see her husband alive again.

Peter's gray destrier strained against the tight hold of his reins. He couldn't blame the animal. He, too, wanted to break free and close the distance to the castle at York rather than plodding along at this snail's pace.

"Peter." John's voice sliced through his irritation. "We have time. There is no hurry."

Three days into their ride north and Peter would wholeheartedly disagree with that assessment. He wished to be done with this matter. He wished to return to his wife. The wife he dreamed about even in the light of day.

"My lord, my belief is that if we get there ahead of the trebuchets, perhaps we can persuade the inhabitants to forego the inevitable loss of life that will result from the siege." He turned back to John. "Does that not sound a plausible plan?"

John looked away. Peter could see he was holding his temper.

"Would it not be more amicable to have men show up on horseback than an entire army at your gate?"

Incredulity was etched in the sharp lines of John's face when he finally turned back toward him. "Peter. It's called a show of force. That's how this is done, as well you know. Are you in such a hurry to return to Brighit that you can no longer even think like a solider?"

Peter reined in his horse that snorted loudly. Propping his bent knee across his saddle he faced his friend. "My concern is what the men were doing as they traveled with Brighit. I believe she was their cover. She said they spoke to everyone. Some were responsive while others were not. They were looking for Godwinson supporters."

John crossed his arms. "So how would you have us proceed?"

"Mort is with your soldiers. He knows what he is about. The siege will not wait for either of us. By the slim chance that the gates are opened to him, I'm certain he would send word to us. Could we travel back along the Great North road to measure just how much support there is for Godwinson? Tostig was very powerful in this area."

"As I am well aware. But the King has orders that I must obey. He knows little of how close I have come—several times—to complete disregard for those orders. I prefer to keep it that way."

Peter knew he spoke not only of allowing Leofrid to live but of John's leaving his bride untouched after he was forced to wed the Saxon. That he later found her much to his liking and was more than willing to see to his husbandly duties rectified the situation but he had defied the King nonetheless. A treasonous act.

"Then let us see this done!"

"Ralph de Gael traveled from London to York, raising the hackles of every earl William slighted in his play for absolute control." John's face softened. "I admit I am most concerned for sweet Emma. She is caught in the middle. To know she suffered within the castle would pain me greatly."

"You have always had a soft spot for William FitzOsbern's only daughter."

"True but my feelings for her never ran so deep as my feelings for Rowena. What I thought was love was not. And you said Leofrid was still in Ireland?"

"That he was about a month ago is all I can say."

John nodded. "Then we will proceed with the siege and pray it will end without too much bloodshed. Then I will assess whether I must confess to the King that Leofrid still lives."

"I would prefer you not have to do that, John."

"As would I." John's face was tight with concern. "Once we have the castle, we will deal with this. If we can ascertain for certain that Leofrid remains in Ireland, we will deal with the threat he may become to the King."

"And I pray it will not be too late," Peter said.