A Sense of Duty - A Medieval Romance (The Sword of Glastonbury Series Book 4)

by Shea,Lisa

  Alison sung another quick tune after that, encouraging the little ones to even greater heights. They collapsed in a delighted heap by the time the song was done, the adults all clapping in pleasure.

  Gaynor leant over with a smile. “Something slower,” she requested, winking at her sister. Alison settled herself back, thinking for a moment, then began singing a languorous song of love.

  Constance’s heart caught. She remembered that song well. Gabriel had sung it to her, softly, as they sat together on the ocean beach, his arms warm around her. She turned her head away as Gaynor tugged Gabriel to his feet, pulled him into the grass clearing to dance around him …

  Someone tugged at Constance’s arm. “Duckies now?” asked Ava, her eyes bright with interest.

  Constance swept her up in an instant. “Duckies now,” she agreed brightly, drawing the other children along with her as they headed down to the river. Joy caught up with them in a few moments, taking Lucia by the hand with a warm smile.

  The song faded away into the running burble of the water racing over rocks and reeds. To the children’s delight, there was indeed a mallard family on the other bank, a green-headed father with his wife and five tiny children.

  Lucia cried out in delight. “Look! They have five! Maybe we shall have five, too!”

  Joy chuckled. “You never know!” she teased, her eyes shining.

  Constance looked over at Joy in surprise. “Alison is with child again? Already?”

  Joy shushed her and drew a little away from the children. “It is early yet to tell, but I believe she may be.”

  Constance frowned in concern. “I know Charles wants a large family, but surely it is not safe for her to have so many so quickly, without time to recover. Did she not just have a miscarriage a few months ago?”

  Joy nodded. “I have been nanny to those girls since they were tiny. They always did exactly as they pleased, with none to gainsay them. I imagine that whatever Alison wants, Alison gets.”

  Constance looked back up the hill, at the figures dancing around in the clearing. Her brother was sweeping Alison around in a circle, her head thrown back in laughter. To the other side, Gabriel and Gaynor were close in conversation. Were they holding hands?

  Constance looked away in a rush, moving along the bank with the twin boys. “Here, let us make some more boats,” she urged them with a forced smile. “We can get a real race going here, I imagine!”

  Time flowed by in a brilliant stream of blue and green, of racing boats and yellow ducklings. Ava napped for a while in a shady nook while Joy and Lucia built a stone castle. Constance worked with Alain and Alond to tune their boats, racing them further and further down the stream.

  There was a shout from the hill, and Constance looked up to see Charles waving his hand in a sweeping motion, calling them back up. It looked as if the group was packing things away, preparing to head back home. Constance glanced at the sun, realizing how low it had slid in the sky. The day had sped past more quickly than she had imagined! Joy nudged Ava awake, then shook out both her and Lucia’s dresses with easy routine, laughing as she did so. The three of them began moving in a loose group up the hill.

  “That was my boat!” came the high shout from behind Constance.

  “No, it was mine!” cried the second.

  Constance turned with a chuckle. The twins were tugging and pulling at a single boat, faces set in determined passion.

  “There were two boats a moment ago. Where did the second one go?” she asked with mock sternness.

  Two pairs of pudgy fingers pointed downstream, to where the river raced and bubbled over rocks.

  Constance shook her head. “How about this,” she mused out loud. “When we get home, we will have an entire Olympics, and this boat will be the prize we set out for the winner. That way it goes to the best man.”

  The two sets of eyes lit up in delight. “Yes!” they cried out in unison, promptly placing the boat in her hands for safe keeping. She tucked the boat in her belt, then took one hand in each of her own and began moving up the long slope toward the crest.

  They walked at a quick pace, laughing and talking about the events they would hold. They were halfway up the hill when they neared Joy, who was holding Lucia over her shoulder and tickling her gently. Constance looked around her as they neared.

  “Joy, where is Ava?” She looked up ahead to see if Ava had run to be with her parents.

  Lucia, hanging backwards over Joy’s shoulder, pointed back down toward the river, her mouth wreathed in smiles. “She is on the boat!” she called out in childish delight.

  Constance spun in horror, following Lucia’s outstretched finger. The log she had been sitting on by the bank was beginning to drift out into the moving waters, and she could see a small figure astride it …

  In a heartbeat she was running, flying down the hill, her fingers stripping the belt off her in seconds as she moved. The water was deep … fast … the tunic would drown her in seconds. She pulled her arms in as she ran, sliding them down by her waist, and in another moment her tunic was tossed free over her head, leaving her light chemise. She streamed like quicksilver down the slope.

  The log was caught by the current and began to move more quickly. Ava’s cries of delight morphed into shrieks of panic. Constance’s legs pounded the grass. She reached the bank and dove in as one fluid motion, slicing into the water without a sound.

  She opened her eyes the moment she was beneath the water, swimming hard. Not far ahead she saw a bubble-rich splash, saw a pink shape plummet down through the waters. She kicked fiercely, moving toward Ava with sure strokes. She was nearly within reach … Constance stretched out her right arm and grabbed the tiny fingers, pulling her roughly to her body. She kicked upwards, and breached the surface with a loud gasp, thrusting Ava up into the air. Ava gave a coughing heave, and then began screaming at the top of her lungs.

  Constance turned in the current, going under for a moment as the child wriggled in her grasp. She sputtered again to the surface, desperately holding Ava up, her eyes stinging from the water. It was a struggle to stay afloat, between the twisting waves and the flailing child. It took her several moments to get her bearings in the roughening water. Once she oriented herself, she began to press hard toward land.

  She leant herself sideways as she swam, angling her body so Ava’s head stayed free of the waves while she made headway. Ava flailed with all her might, beyond panic. Constance was driven under by the motion, took in a breath full of water, and broke the surface again, coughing. She stretched out again with her left arm, moving desperately toward shore. Ava twisted again. Constance felt another lungful of water course down her throat …

  She was suddenly lifted high. A strong arm took a hold of her left hand, pulling her out of the water for a moment, giving her a chance to draw in a deep breath. She gasped for air, desperate to keep in motion.

  “Grab a hold of my neck,” called out Gabriel in a clipped rush, glancing ahead at the approaching rocks. “Hold on for dear life.”

  He pulled her left hand to him, rolling with it as he did so that her arm looped over his left shoulder and around to his chest. She pulled herself snugly against him, bringing her thighs in close against his hips, trying to position herself so as not to drown them both. With her right arm she kept a tight grip around Ava’s waist, keeping the child as far out of the water as possible.

  Beneath her, she could feel Gabriel set into strong motion, his arms and legs drawing hard against the river. She ventured a glance downstream, and saw with shock that the river was about to enter a section of rapids, The water jumbled and tossed against a bed of sharp rocks. A frisson of terror coursed through her.

  “Do not let go,” she heard Gabriel call up to her in a tense plea, every ounce of strength moving them closer to the bank.

  “Never,” promised Constance, pressing herself firmly against his body, feeling every sinew of his being, willing herself to be light, to be streamlined, to be a part of him. />
  She saw figures running, saw the bank draw near, and then suddenly there was wet mud beneath their feet, and Gabriel collapsed, exhausted, on the bank. Ava was pulled strongly from Constance’s hands, and she let the child go, rolling weakly to her right, allowing herself to sprawl on her back in the mud. She sucked in heaving, deep breaths, feeling Gabriel doing the same at her side. He lay, still, on her left arm, and she made no motion to withdraw it.

  She turned her head to the left, and found herself staring into his eyes, saw the relief and pride mixed in them.

  His voice was hoarse. “You saved that little girl,” he praised her, his breathing finally slowing. “She would have died were it not for you.”

  “You saved us both,” murmured Constance, caught by his gaze, her heart pounding. “You came for me.”

  Gabriel raised a hand to gently brush the wet hair out of her face. He took in a deep breath.

  Barnard’s shrill voice bellowed out from above them. “Constance, what in God’s name are you doing dressed like that?! Get yourself covered this instant!”

  Constance stared up in shock at the apoplectic face, then looked down at herself. The thin fabric of her chemise, drenched to the core, clung transparently to her body, leaving nothing to the imagination. She pulled herself up to a sitting position, drawing her knees to her chest, then looked around.

  Charles and Alison had Ava sandwiched between them, examining her over in minute detail for harm, their voices moving from shock to relief. Joy stood to one side of the couple, holding Lucia, who was crying in sheer panic. Gaynor knelt on the other side, her arms around the two boys, murmuring to them that their little sister would be all right.

  Constance looked back at her husband in confusion, and saw he was staring down at Gabriel, his face hard. Gabriel rolled over and came up to his feet in one smooth motion, meeting his gaze with a challenging look.

  Constance sprang to her feet in an instant, her body shaking with rage and exhaustion. “This is ridiculous!” she shouted at Barnard in exasperation. “His gaze did not leave my eyes! This man saved my life!”

  Barnard rounded on her with fierce anger, his eyes looking up and down her body in a pointed glance. “I told you to cover up!”

  Constance glanced around again. All eyes were now pointed at her, but what was she to do? There was no sign of anything to wear …

  Ralph came up to the group at a hard trot, carrying Gabriel’s blue tunic and dagger in his hands. Gabriel swept up the tunic in a quick move, turning to stand before Constance. Suddenly she was a teenager again, Gabriel was standing before her, helping her don an old set of his leather armor before their training session. Obediently she put her arms up over her head, let him slide the tunic down over her wet body.

  She was enveloped in the soft warmth, in the aromas of musk … leather … bergamot … the rich scent of Gabriel, one she never forgot, one which came to her in her most secret longings. She closed her eyes, wrapped her arms around herself as the tunic settled down around her, held the sensation for a long, wonderful moment. Then she opened her eyes again, feeling fresh and new, her soul and emotion shining in her gaze.

  She was almost surprised to see the real Gabriel there before her; it had been so long that he had existed only in her dreams. He seemed captivated, almost stunned, by what he saw in her eyes. He looked down at the blue tunic she wore, and his eyes softened ...

  Barnard barged between them in an instant, grabbing Constance hard by the arm. “We need to get you back to the keep,” he growled in command. “Get you into proper clothing.”

  He began dragging her up the hill, and she followed behind, half docile, half in shock. The rest of the party headed up the slope after them, the crying and soothing gradually subsiding to a low murmur.

  Constance allowed Barnard to place her into the wagon, and soon three little bodies were tumbled up against her. Joy climbed in next, then Alison, holding little Ava tightly in her arms.

  Alison’s voice was a whisper “Thank you. I cannot thank you enough.” She moved over to sit next to Constance. “You risked your life to save my child.”

  Joan moaned. “I thought she was behind me,” she apologized, her eyes locked on the tiny body. “I never dreamed that she had gone back down to the water.”

  Constance closed her eyes, leaning back against the wagon frame as it bumped into motion. She pulled her arms tightly around herself, her hand dropping to press against her chest, to where the medallion had hung. She could smell the aroma of Gabriel all around her, feel his warmth in his tunic. She knew it was wrong to encourage her memories of him, to allow herself such pleasure at being wrapped in the embrace of his clothes.

  Even worse, she was putting Gabriel’s heart at risk. She had been unguarded, allowing him to see into her soul like that. She must do better in the future, for his sake, and for her own. If at all possible, she had to undo the damage that had been done.

  Still, just for now, she would relish the feeling of his tunic enveloping her, of being held close by his scent. The miles rolled on in a dream of long lost hopes.

  Constance shook off her reverie as the wagon bumped its way into the cobblestone-clad courtyard. The wagon had barely stopped moving when she leapt from its back, sprinting into the main building. She swept up Audrey as she went, drawing the young maid with her up into her room.

  She gave a sigh of relief as the door closed behind them, then turned to smile reassuringly at the confused girl before her.

  “We had some excitement while on the picnic,” she let Audrey know in a weary voice, the exertions of the day catching up with her at last. “I am sure you will hear all about it in a short while. However, it has left me exhausted. Please let the others know I will take a long nap, and do not wish to be disturbed for any reason.”

  “Of course, My Lady,” agreed Audrey, her young eyes wide with interest. She did not ask any further questions, although her eyes looked over Constance’s tunic with sharp curiosity. She helped Constance climb out of the oversized outfit, then gently tucked Constance into bed before retreating from the room.

  Once alone, Constance found that her ruse was only half invention. She was, indeed, quite worn down, and welcomed the long nap that beckoned.

  She awoke in the early evening, the sun’s light a soft glow at the horizon. She found herself refreshed and ready for activity. Audrey had left a serving of bread and cheese by her bed, which she gratefully ate, sipping the mead that sat alongside it. Once darkness had truly settled across the landscape, she got up quietly, slipping on her excursion clothes in the gentle light of the fire.

  By the time Ralph’s soft knock sounded on her door, she was ready. Together they slipped down the hall, heading out to the stables. In a short while they had reached the growing group of women who listened and learned in the church basement.

  But when the evening was done, and Constance had mounted to head toward home, nervousness skittered through her heart. Gabriel had glimpsed what lay behind her mask, what lay nestled in the depths of her soul. The years she had sacrificed, all the innocent lives at stake, now depended on her ability to craft an explanation he might believe.

  She only hoped she had the strength to see it through.

  Chapter 13

  Wednesday morning dawned with bright sunshine. Constance stood and stretched. Her shoulder ached, her left calf throbbed as if it had been kicked by a mule, but a freshness filled her with each breath.

  She looked over at the blue tunic which still lay neatly folded in a corner, then turned away with a sigh. She reminded herself with harsh discipline that she had to keep Gabriel at bay. Every time she was near him, every time she looked in his eyes, she was tangibly drawn to him. She did not have that luxury, and it was cruel for her to encourage him in any manner.

  Her own burgundy dress had been cleaned and laid out at the end of the bed. She slipped it on, holding back a dejected sigh as it slid over her shoulders. It had been so wonderful to wear Gabriel’s tunic … she pus
hed the thought out of her mind. She would not go down that road.

  She walked down the stairs and into the main hall, and instantly she was surrounded by cheers and cries of welcome. Alison came running over to give her a warm hug, and Charles was close behind her with an embrace of his own.

  “Anything you want, it is yours,” he offered heartily as he held her back to look at her. “That is quite a thing you did out there.”

  She saw a movement behind him, and her gaze was met by Gabriel’s. She realized in a heartbeat that he had understood the full import of her look yesterday, that he knew her heart had never truly left him. His gaze shone as it had when they were younger, glowed with tender care and fierce protection.

  She spun away from him, her heart in turmoil. She had to try to undo the damage she had done, and quickly. She had made her choice, and she could not abandon the villagers of Beadnell now, not when the bandits had become so dangerous.

  She heard Gabriel’s voice murmur something to Charles, and the sound of it was like a dagger in her heart. She was overwhelmed by the sense of his nearness, the knowledge that he still cared for her. All she had to do was turn and tell him the truth, and he would be at her side. She knew he would be. He was so close, so incredibly close …

  She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. She could not do it. The villages would be burned, the innocents slaughtered. Only her resolve kept that fragile hold on the Beadnell’s safety.

  She forced herself to move around to her seat at the head table. Barnard was at her side in an instant, putting himself between her and the others. Despite her angst, Constance almost chuckled at his active involvement in her life. For so many years he had avoided her, neglected her. Now, suddenly, he was energetically seeking her out?

  As if sensing her thoughts, he turned to her, taking a hold of her arm and gazing at her with a sharp look. “I do not like how you have been behaving while back at your old home,” he clipped under his breath. “The presence of those sisters is affecting you. You have lost the docile obedience which is proper. I am most displeased.”