“Nay! I will not go!”
Light in the room shifted, telling Gisela that Dominic had left the window. She sensed his entry into her shop before booted footfalls sounded on the floorboards. Step by step, he came toward them with those bold, swaggered strides.
Ewan’s struggles ceased. His face lit with curiosity as he glanced at Dominic.
Gisela tensed. She braced herself for Dominic to urge her to let Ewan stay. Wasted words. She wouldn’t yield, no matter how persuasive Dominic might be. If her little boy were to stay safe, he must heed her. Being solely responsible for his welfare, she must follow through with her demand that he return inside the house; if she gave in now, she showed Ewan that by disobeying, he got his way. A very dangerous precedent. One day, his disobedience might get him killed.
Ewan shrugged off her hold. “He has come to see my sword,” he said, raising his chin to look up at Dominic.
An indulgent smile touched Dominic’s mouth. “Nay, little warrior. I have come to tell you to heed your mother.”
Astonished warmth filled Gisela’s belly. Oh, Dominic.
Ewan balled his hands and looked about to erupt in another temper tantrum.
“Do not look so,” Dominic said gently, touching the little boy’s shoulder. “Your mother cares for you very much. If she wishes you to remain in the house, there is a reason for her order. You should obey.”
“I do not want to.”
“I know.” Dominic dropped to one knee, his garments whispering with the movement. Looking at Ewan, he said, “Sometimes mothers know things they cannot tell their children.”
“Why not?” Ewan asked.
“Pardon?”
“Why can they not tell their children?”
“Ah.” Dominic nodded. “An excellent question. Being a mother is a very important duty. Not every woman can be a mother, you know, for there are a great many tasks she must oversee. Most of all, she must do what she feels is best for her young one. Even if, at the time, she cannot tell her son why, and her son does not understand.”
Gisela pressed her shaking hand to her mouth. She couldn’t have explained better herself.
Ewan frowned.
“Do you know how lucky you are to have such a caring mother?”
Looking down at Sir Smug, the boy shook his head.
“My mother died years ago. She was a very wise woman, just like your mother.” Dominic’s tone softened. “Every day, I miss her.”
Ewan’s gaze moved slowly to Gisela.
“Do as she has asked you,” Dominic said quietly.
The little boy pouted. “But, I have not shown you my sword.”
“I will be back to see you.” Dominic patted Ewan’s shoulder. Holding the boy’s gaze, he leaned close to his ear. “If you go now, without a fuss, I will tell you the story about the maiden and the dragon next time I visit.”
“Tell me now!” Ewan said, his eyes bright.
Dominic shook his head. “Now, you will obey your mother.”
Ewan looked one last time at his knight, then up at Gisela. He turned and, with obedient steps, went back into the home.
Dominic rose. His tender smile suggested he might enjoy being a father one day.
Oh, Dominic, if only you knew . . .
“Thank you,” Gisela murmured.
He nodded, still staring at the doorway through which Ewan had disappeared. “He is a good child. He reminds me so much of myself, when I was young.”
That is because there is much of you in him , a voice inside Gisela answered, rousing a new tangle of emotions. No matter how difficult it might be—no matter what obstacles her revelation might toss in her path toward freedom—she must tell him. He deserved to know.
The moment stretched ahead of her in the quiet room. When his attention returned to her, she clasped her unsteady hands together.
“Dominic,” she began, half-aware of voices outside in the street. One sounded familiar. Brusque, as gravelly as a table dragged across dirt, it carried over the tramp of approaching footfalls.
Varden Crenardieu.
“Aye, Sweet Daisy?” Dominic
Light in the room shifted, telling Gisela that Dominic had left the window. She sensed his entry into her shop before booted footfalls sounded on the floorboards. Step by step, he came toward them with those bold, swaggered strides.
Ewan’s struggles ceased. His face lit with curiosity as he glanced at Dominic.
Gisela tensed. She braced herself for Dominic to urge her to let Ewan stay. Wasted words. She wouldn’t yield, no matter how persuasive Dominic might be. If her little boy were to stay safe, he must heed her. Being solely responsible for his welfare, she must follow through with her demand that he return inside the house; if she gave in now, she showed Ewan that by disobeying, he got his way. A very dangerous precedent. One day, his disobedience might get him killed.
Ewan shrugged off her hold. “He has come to see my sword,” he said, raising his chin to look up at Dominic.
An indulgent smile touched Dominic’s mouth. “Nay, little warrior. I have come to tell you to heed your mother.”
Astonished warmth filled Gisela’s belly. Oh, Dominic.
Ewan balled his hands and looked about to erupt in another temper tantrum.
“Do not look so,” Dominic said gently, touching the little boy’s shoulder. “Your mother cares for you very much. If she wishes you to remain in the house, there is a reason for her order. You should obey.”
“I do not want to.”
“I know.” Dominic dropped to one knee, his garments whispering with the movement. Looking at Ewan, he said, “Sometimes mothers know things they cannot tell their children.”
“Why not?” Ewan asked.
“Pardon?”
“Why can they not tell their children?”
“Ah.” Dominic nodded. “An excellent question. Being a mother is a very important duty. Not every woman can be a mother, you know, for there are a great many tasks she must oversee. Most of all, she must do what she feels is best for her young one. Even if, at the time, she cannot tell her son why, and her son does not understand.”
Gisela pressed her shaking hand to her mouth. She couldn’t have explained better herself.
Ewan frowned.
“Do you know how lucky you are to have such a caring mother?”
Looking down at Sir Smug, the boy shook his head.
“My mother died years ago. She was a very wise woman, just like your mother.” Dominic’s tone softened. “Every day, I miss her.”
Ewan’s gaze moved slowly to Gisela.
“Do as she has asked you,” Dominic said quietly.
The little boy pouted. “But, I have not shown you my sword.”
“I will be back to see you.” Dominic patted Ewan’s shoulder. Holding the boy’s gaze, he leaned close to his ear. “If you go now, without a fuss, I will tell you the story about the maiden and the dragon next time I visit.”
“Tell me now!” Ewan said, his eyes bright.
Dominic shook his head. “Now, you will obey your mother.”
Ewan looked one last time at his knight, then up at Gisela. He turned and, with obedient steps, went back into the home.
Dominic rose. His tender smile suggested he might enjoy being a father one day.
Oh, Dominic, if only you knew . . .
“Thank you,” Gisela murmured.
He nodded, still staring at the doorway through which Ewan had disappeared. “He is a good child. He reminds me so much of myself, when I was young.”
That is because there is much of you in him , a voice inside Gisela answered, rousing a new tangle of emotions. No matter how difficult it might be—no matter what obstacles her revelation might toss in her path toward freedom—she must tell him. He deserved to know.
The moment stretched ahead of her in the quiet room. When his attention returned to her, she clasped her unsteady hands together.
“Dominic,” she began, half-aware of voices outside in the street. One sounded familiar. Brusque, as gravelly as a table dragged across dirt, it carried over the tramp of approaching footfalls.
Varden Crenardieu.
“Aye, Sweet Daisy?” Dominic
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