to acknowledge his youngest son.
Now, that dream seemed very far away. The effects of the drug had lasted so long as to have carried the cart two days out of the three towards his father's keep. If he did not rouse himself to act soon, his dream of being anything more than a lowly soldier would vanish.
The nails used to fasten the pig polk to the base of the wagon were numerous and securely placed. He would not be able to pry enough lose to slip from the bottom of the structure. Yet, the polk itself seemed older and had not been reinforced. If, by some miracle, he could distract the guards, he might be able to loosen a few slats in the top of the pen and slip out that direction.
Sir David cared not whether his fat brothers would escape. They had vacillated between ignoring and tormenting him his entire childhood. He was a man now and would make his way on his own, without their aid, just as he had grown accustomed.
Then what? He could not return to his father's house a failed man. He had to accomplish some feat to be welcomed back into Lord Polk's militant graces. What if he were able to achieve alone what his brother could not with twenty troops? Now that would be a coup!
Slowly, he stood, and began wiggling a corner board above his head. His plan would work. It had to work.
~
A week had passed since the new Lord Sanders had sent Sir John back to his father. And, yet, no word from the most unsettling Mortichai. Why had he entrusted such a tenuous situation to such an unwholesome character? He should have never allowed a woman to take the lead in this way. He was blinded by Sara. That was the problem. As much as he tried to keep his distance and avoid the distraction she posed, all he could think of was Sara. Sara's golden waves spread across the pillows as the morning light caressed her cheek... Sara's strong set to her jaw when she bit her tongue against something contrary she wished to speak...
She was beautiful and bright. She was strong and competent. What did he really offer her but a dangerous ruse? Gavin's guilt nearly overwhelmed him. Sara deserved a man with the funds and the title to maintain this land and her children safely. Instead, she had been manipulated into marrying him. If he were unable to convince the king of his strength of position, Sara would be out on the street and Hannah would be married to Sir John within the fortnight.
He should have married Hannah as the writ described. Then, he would rightfully hold possession of the keep and title. Instead, he had arrived to find Hannah a child. Twas a task he could not stomach. Instead, he had married the mother of the possible heir. And, like a fool, he had wished for a daughter. Had Sara produced a son, his marriage to her would have ensured the safety of the household. And, yet, fool as he was, he had wished for a daughter, then sons of his own to take over the land some day.
At this rate, some day would never occur. Sara could be forced to surrender Elizabeth to the new and rightful Lord Sander's household, and he and Sara could be thrown out on the streets. Or, worse yet for him, his marriage to Sara could be annulled with the flick of the king's wrist. Why had he not insisted on consummating the marriage immediately? Now, t'would not be possible to do so for another month, at least. Still, he could not truly bring himself to regret the path which he had chosen. Sara was everything he had ever imagined his wife might be.
Even if he lost the keep and had to become a hired sword once more, Gavin would never regret choosing to align himself with Sara. She breathed life into his weary bones. She, more than the lands and title, was the reward for a difficult and dreary struggle towards success.
He would make these soft-hearted decisions of his pay off by becoming a very focused and hard troop leader. If he gave not once inch between now and the moment King Edward awarded him the title and lands. Then, mayhap, he could achieve all he wished for
Now, that dream seemed very far away. The effects of the drug had lasted so long as to have carried the cart two days out of the three towards his father's keep. If he did not rouse himself to act soon, his dream of being anything more than a lowly soldier would vanish.
The nails used to fasten the pig polk to the base of the wagon were numerous and securely placed. He would not be able to pry enough lose to slip from the bottom of the structure. Yet, the polk itself seemed older and had not been reinforced. If, by some miracle, he could distract the guards, he might be able to loosen a few slats in the top of the pen and slip out that direction.
Sir David cared not whether his fat brothers would escape. They had vacillated between ignoring and tormenting him his entire childhood. He was a man now and would make his way on his own, without their aid, just as he had grown accustomed.
Then what? He could not return to his father's house a failed man. He had to accomplish some feat to be welcomed back into Lord Polk's militant graces. What if he were able to achieve alone what his brother could not with twenty troops? Now that would be a coup!
Slowly, he stood, and began wiggling a corner board above his head. His plan would work. It had to work.
~
A week had passed since the new Lord Sanders had sent Sir John back to his father. And, yet, no word from the most unsettling Mortichai. Why had he entrusted such a tenuous situation to such an unwholesome character? He should have never allowed a woman to take the lead in this way. He was blinded by Sara. That was the problem. As much as he tried to keep his distance and avoid the distraction she posed, all he could think of was Sara. Sara's golden waves spread across the pillows as the morning light caressed her cheek... Sara's strong set to her jaw when she bit her tongue against something contrary she wished to speak...
She was beautiful and bright. She was strong and competent. What did he really offer her but a dangerous ruse? Gavin's guilt nearly overwhelmed him. Sara deserved a man with the funds and the title to maintain this land and her children safely. Instead, she had been manipulated into marrying him. If he were unable to convince the king of his strength of position, Sara would be out on the street and Hannah would be married to Sir John within the fortnight.
He should have married Hannah as the writ described. Then, he would rightfully hold possession of the keep and title. Instead, he had arrived to find Hannah a child. Twas a task he could not stomach. Instead, he had married the mother of the possible heir. And, like a fool, he had wished for a daughter. Had Sara produced a son, his marriage to her would have ensured the safety of the household. And, yet, fool as he was, he had wished for a daughter, then sons of his own to take over the land some day.
At this rate, some day would never occur. Sara could be forced to surrender Elizabeth to the new and rightful Lord Sander's household, and he and Sara could be thrown out on the streets. Or, worse yet for him, his marriage to Sara could be annulled with the flick of the king's wrist. Why had he not insisted on consummating the marriage immediately? Now, t'would not be possible to do so for another month, at least. Still, he could not truly bring himself to regret the path which he had chosen. Sara was everything he had ever imagined his wife might be.
Even if he lost the keep and had to become a hired sword once more, Gavin would never regret choosing to align himself with Sara. She breathed life into his weary bones. She, more than the lands and title, was the reward for a difficult and dreary struggle towards success.
He would make these soft-hearted decisions of his pay off by becoming a very focused and hard troop leader. If he gave not once inch between now and the moment King Edward awarded him the title and lands. Then, mayhap, he could achieve all he wished for
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