by Joyce Wright
Once they had refreshed themselves by the stream, Lionel and nurse returned to the carriage, the latter to rest after her harrowing journey of the night before. She wasn’t as young as when she had cared for Agnes, and Agnes worried over her as she would her own mother.
They settled in the grass beside the river. The sun had warmed the night air, so her cape was more than enough to keep her warm. Richard, however, had shed his coat to run through the field of purple wildflowers. Gilbert ran after him, pretending not to run fast enough, until with a growl, he scooped him into his arms and fell to the ground, tickling him.
Richard squealed with laughter each time, the game never growing old. When had she felt happier? Perhaps never, even with everything against her right now, even with the bittersweet knowledge that this could be the first and last time the two males she loved best would play together. When she closed her eyes in her later years, she felt certain it was this picture--the feel of the sun, the smell of river water and deep purple flowers, and the taste of pure joy--that would sustain her.
They played like that for an hour or longer, strengthened only by the dry bread and pieces of cheese she had packed the night before, and palmfuls of cold river water. Gilbert was the first to collapse in the soft grass beside her. He removed his glasses and wiped his face with a handkerchief. They shared a smile before he leaned back, resting his upper body on his elbows, watching Richard as he tried to sneak up on a squirrel.
“He’s a great boy.”
She was glad he recognized it. “Yes he certainly is.”
He turned to her, his face somber. “I wish he was mine.”
Her heart shuddered and tears burned in the corners of her eyes. She released a broken sigh. “He is,” she whispered.
Shock, joy, anger, all warred across his face. He opened his mouth, but first only a trembling breath escaped. “Mine, Agnes? Mine?”
She dare not touch him. Nurse and Lionel were too close by. She hoped her eyes conveyed the emotions raging in her heart. “Father had already arranged my marriage with Phillip without my consent. You had asked me to marry you. We had… consummated our love. Surely you knew there could be consequences. Once Father made his decision, no amount of pleading on my part would deter him.”
“Mine,” Gilbert breathed. He looked as stunned as she likely had yesterday evening upon seeing him again.
“Yes, yours. Phillip knew and Father knew. Phillip was glad. Mumps when he was young made it nearly impossible that he will father a child. And my state allowed him to insist upon a greater dowry. My uncle complied, only to save my younger sisters the tragedy of a scandal.”
He sat up, his spine rigid. “You should have told me.” His hard voice trembled
“How? How could I have done that?”
He stood, paced in front of her, his hands pulling through his hair. “I don’t know! I don’t know anything right now.”
She stood, too, but had to force herself not to reach for him. His heart was breaking, she could see it on his face. Her stoic Gilbert was stoic no more. A part of her, the larger part, was glad he knew the truth. But the other part was very, very scared about what the next hour, day, week, and month held for them. Would Gilbert be able to release her to Phillip now that he knew the truth?
#
He paced the grass, trying to wrestle his emotions into submission. This did not happen to him, this overwhelming-need-to-hurt-someone did not happen to him. He saved lives, he did not take them. At the moment though all he wanted was his brother’s neck between his hands so he could squeeze the life from him, so he could batter and bruise his face as he had Agnes.
A son. He studied the boy. He hid behind a crumbling stone wall. His patience was amazingly like his own, but his enthusiasm was entirely his mother’s. This child that their love had created. How could God be so cruel? To have taken Agnes and kept Richard from him? Could He be cruel enough to snatch them from him a second time?
And just like that, his plans changed. No, he wouldn’t let that happen. Protecting Agnes and Richard was paramount before, and now even more so. He no longer cared about getting Phillip tried and convicted for murder. His world had shrunk to the size of a small field of flowers with the sun and the moon being Agnes and Richard. He would stop at nothing to not just protect them, but to keep them.
Chapter 7
They were gathering their things and preparing to leave when they heard shouts from the bridge above them. Lionel!
Agnes and Gilbert shared a tense look, before Agnes hurried toward Richard who was playing in the tall field grass. Before she reached him though, he gave a joyous shout. Her heart pounded in her ears. More shouts from above. Agnes ran the last few yards and sank down in the tall grass beside her son, drawing him down with her, the grass rising above them.
“Listen to me, Richard. We must be very quiet now. You must trust me and Uncle Gilbert to do what is best .” He simply nodded and grabbed hold of her hand. Together, squatting in the tall grass, they eased backward until they almost reached the wood. The shouts at the bridge were soon followed by trampling boots and male voices moving down the embankment. No doubt it was Phillip. Agnes tried to silence her ragged breathing and the pounding of her heart, but she could control none of it. Richard, however, was still as a mouse.
“Duke, it’s a pleasure to see you,” His voice sarcastic, Gilbert moved forward, his hands outstretched.
Phillip ignored him, his gaze sweeping the field, the river, the woods. “Where are my wife and son, Gilbert? I will only ask you once. I know she’s here with you.” He smiled nastily. “The constable told me which direction you had taken.”
Agnes stifled a gasp. She lifted her hand to her mouth, biting into it softly. Of course, Phillip would have control of the constable in Richmond. Her hopes shattered.
Gilbert folded his arms across his chest. “If you know they’re here, then you should have no difficulty finding them.” He stretched his arms out.
“What game are you playing? The same sort you did when you were a child? You know how much I hated those.” He advanced. “You know how I made you pay for your little mind tricks.
Gilbert held his ground, chuckling softly. “Indeed I do remember. Maybe I’m only here to distract you from where they really are. Do you think I’d be so foolish as to leave them here in the open?”
Phillip paused, his face darkening. As quickly, his face cleared. “We’ve been to the inn where you told the constable you would shelter them if Richard was found. You have not checked in.”
“I’m not letting Agnes go again. If I must hang, I will hang. But you will never have her again.”
Phillip smiled condescendingly. “Oh, is that all? Agnes is not an issue. I’ll be happy to release her. It is only the boy I want.”
“Now then, where is Richard? I will simply collect him and be on my way.”
Nothing was simple about it. He would send the constable to arrest her and Phillip and see them jailed for adultery. She was certain of it. If he did, Richard would be alone.
Richard sensed the movement behind them before she did. He tugged her sleeve. She looked down. His eyes were wide with horror as he looked over her shoulder.
“I have them, my lord,” said a loud rough voice. She grabbed Richard in her arms and whipped around, just in time for a large man to lock his arms around her.
“Let me go,” She demanded, squirming and kicking her feet. Richard did likewise, but it was of little use. The man was broad and muscled. He held them tightly as if they weighed nothing.
Phillip smiled, then swung his fist. It hit Gilbert’s face with a sickening smack. His glasses flew into the air. Gilbert stepped back, balled his hand and hit his brother. Phillip punched him deep in his stomach. As Gilbert doubled over, he kicked the legs out from under him. Gilbert fell to the ground.
Phillip kicked him again and again until Agnes could bear it no longer. “Phillip, stop it. Stop it. Richard and I will return with you. Just promise me no more har
m will come to Gilbert.”
Phillip stepped back, wiped his bloodied lip with a handkerchief and bowed. “As you wish, wife.” He glanced back at his brother when he said the latter, grinning maliciously.
#
He could do nothing. Gilbert leaned back on the grass, feeling blood creep down his face.
“Release the Duchess and the young Lord,” Phillip commanded. His man released them, but shoved Agnes forward so she fell on her knees in the weeds.
Phillip laughed. “Exactly how I want to see you.”
Agnes’ face burned red, and Gilbert pushed to his feet. He grabbed Phillip’s arm, but before he could bring back his fist, he was pushed to the ground by Phillip’s men. A kick landed to his side. Another to his chest. The air left him in a whoosh. Pain crashed through his lung.
“Stop,” cried Richard. “Stop hurting him.” He stood before Phillip, his voice appealing. “Please, Father, he’s hurt. We can’t leave him. It would be wrong. “
Phillip smiled at the boy. “But, son, do you not know the truth? This man is a criminal.”
Gilbert closed his eyes. No, it wasn’t happening like this.
“A criminal?” Richard asked hesitantly.
“Indeed. Your Uncle Gilbert planned your kidnapping. He scared your poor mother nearly to death. Did you not, brother? Tell young Richard that I’m not telling the truth.”
Two stricken pairs of eyes watched him. His heart breaking, he whispered. “I cannot say that. It is the truth.”
Agnes flinched as if he had struck her. Richard squinted and studied him closely, as if some different answer must lie on his face.
“Come, come,” said Phillip. All Gilbert could do was watch as his son and the woman he loved walked away from him. He had set the wheels of change into motion. All he could do now was hope they rolled in the right direction .
Chapter 8
Gilbert had kidnapped Richard! She suffered through hours of fright because of Dr. Gilbert Crawford. Agnes leaned back in the carriage seat beside Richard. But why, why had he done it? She wished she could think clearly.
Last night she could see nothing in the starless dark. Yet somehow the world had seemed far clearer than it did today in the bright light of day.
Why would Gilbert hurt her? Because of his uncle’s murder? Because Phillip had become Duke? Because he loved her? He hadn’t known that Richard was his son, so he couldn’t have kidnapped him for that reason.
Thirty minutes later, they arrived in Shendon, the village of her birth. Phillip had gone into the tavern to drink. He’d taken Richard with him to ensure she didn’t escape.
She and Nurse sat alone in the carriage.
“Nurse, why did he do it? Why would he have you and Richard kidnapped? I was out of my mind with terror. I thought Richard would be killed.”
Nurse studied her lap. “I summoned him. As did Lionel.”
Gasping, holding her chest, Agnes shook her head. “You? Why? I don’t understand.”
“We hear things, the servants. There were rumors about the Duke and his secret meetings.”
“About his uncle? Why didn’t you talk to me?”
“You?” Nurse narrowed her eyes and shook her head. “The Duke has you so cowed, you’ve lost every bit of spunk you ever had. You would not have stood up to him. Only for the young Lord, but for no other reason.”
Agnes flinched as if Nurse had struck her. Is that how she appeared? Weak? “But why kidnap Richard?”
“I suggested it,” Nurse said proudly. “I even watched from the window and called down to Mr. Gilbert’s men when I saw them arrive. I carried Richard sleeping downstairs. When he awoke, I told him we were having an adventure, but would soon be safe.”
“But why?”
“I knew the only way to get you away from the manor was to have you follow Richard,” she said.
“Oh Nurse, I don’t—“
A commotion at the front of the tavern drew their attention away.
“What is it? What’s going on?” Agnes pressed her face to the window. Phillip was arguing with his men, his arms moving furiously. Where was Richard? She hurriedly climbed out of the carriage.
Nurse called after her, “No Duchess, no.”
Standing in front of Phillip, she demanded, “What is it? Where is Richard?”
When he turned to face her, Phillip’s face was red with anger. He grasped her arm fiercely in his fist. “Your son is missing. These simpletons lost track of him.” He drew her body against his. She trembled as his mouth drew closer to her face. He reeked of bear and snuff. “I’m warning you, if Gilbert has taken that boy again, I will beat you to within an inch of your life. Find him!” He roared, shoving her away from him.
She stumbled against the wall, but quickly righted herself. Narrowing her eyes, she drew back her shoulders. Yes, she would find her son, and then she would find a way to hide the two of them from The Duke forever.
#
Why his brother had let him and Lionel live, Gilbert would never know. It wasn’t in his nature that was certain. Maybe he’d planned to send his men back for them. It didn’t matter.
Without horses, they had to run through the fields until they arrived at a farmhouse. Ten minutes later, they had procured horses and were fairly flying over the countryside. They followed the direction Lionel had seen Phillip take. If his guess was right, they would stop in Shendon.
A few miles outside of the village, the pounding of a dozen or more hooves brought them to a stop. The militia! Twenty men pounded toward them, slowing as they neared.
“We’re searching for a wanted man,” one soldier stated. “Lord Phillip Remington. For murder.”
Gilbert felt nearly weak with relief. “I think we’re all traveling in the same direction.”
Chapter 9
Where would Richard have gone? After all her stories, he could likely picture the entire geography of the village, from the tavern to the inn to the church, all the way out—
Oh no! She pressed her hand against her mouth. Would he have gone to the vicarage? In that moment, she knew. Yes, he would.
Quickly, while Richard’s attention was on his men, she hurried away, ducking down an alley and following an old path behind the buildings on the main street of town. Once she was out of sight, she ran.
At the vicarage, she didn’t hesitate, but hammered on the door with her fist. Her father opened it.
Oh how he’d aged! Wrinkles had eaten up the spaces around his eyes and mouth. He leaned heavily on a cane.
“Papa,” she whispered.
His gaze rested on her face and his eyes filled. “Come, child. Come in. You’re home.” He rested his hand on the side of her bruised face. “You’re home,” He repeated. “We’ve been expecting you.”
“Richard told you?”
Her father chuckled. “Richard arriving alone was a surprise. No, Dr. Crawford told us to expect you. He paid us a visit several days ago, seeking a safe place to hide you and young Richard.”
She blinked, opened her mouth, but could find nothing to say. Like a small child, she allowed her father to lead her through the house.
#
Agnes, knowing Phillip would search for her if she didn’t soon return, bid Richard and her parents goodbye and quickly returned to the tavern.
She was running down the path that crossed behind the tavern when she was grabbed from behind. “You should know by now you can’t escape me,” Phillip’s voice growled in her ear.
She squirmed and kicked. He folded one arm over her chest, the other he pressed into her middle. She could scarcely breathe. She kicked backward as hard as she could, twisting . He grunted, lost his grip, then regained it.
His fleshy arm had risen just inches from her mouth. If she could just lean forward—
His scream of pain was accompanied by the tang of blood in her mouth. When his arm dropped, she ran.
Around the corner, through the alley, his breath, his feet pounded after her.
She
paused in front of the tavern. Where to go? That’s when he grabbed her hair in a brutal grip. He twisted tighter and tighter until she screamed in agony, trying to lower her body. He kneed her in the back. The air left her lungs. He shoved her against the wall, hitting her head. Again and again until all the fight was gone.
Dimly, she heard a million galloping horses and one man yelling. She didn’t have the energy to scream.
“Lord Phillip Remington, you’re under arrest by the order of The Prince Regent.”
She felt mildly happy before the world turned gray.
#
At the inn, Gilbert sat on the bed and cradled Agnes in his arms. Richard had fallen asleep beside her. Nurse sat in a chair beside the bed. He couldn’t believe he’d been given another chance only to lose her again. He simply could not believe that.
She’d awoken only once to inquire about Phillip. He’d reassured her that he was in custody, the evidence stacked against him. They had the constable in King’s Crossing to thank.
Gilbert had known the villages of King's Crossing and Richmond had squabbles between their constables. One, he felt certain would be in his brother’s pocket; the other likely not. On that fateful night, he had turned over evidence to both, knowing one would alert his brother and the other would investigate it. He hadn’t known which one.
“Mr. Gilbert, look who’s coming around.”
Gilbert gently shifted so that Agnes’ head rested on the pillow and he could study her. Bruised looking blue eyes met his, the pupils large, but not too large.
“You’re still here. I was afraid I had dream it all.”
Gilbert leaned close and touched a hand to first one cheek and then the other. “I’m not going anywhere. How do you feel,” he asked softly.
“Like I can’t move my head. Like every bone in my face hurts.” She tried to sit, but collapsed backward with a moan and a quick squeeze of her eyes. “Richard?” she asked breathlessly.
“He’s fine. Sleeping on the bed beside you.”