The healer lifted the child for her to see. “All is well, m’lady! ‘Tis a boy! Ye have son, Miranda! A son!”
She squeezed her eyes shut at the soft cries of her son, hot tears falling down her face as great sobs shook her thin frame; he bent low and kissed her trembling lips gently. Never before had he ever been so moved with love as he was right then. The midwife took the child and bathed it gently, its soft cries filled William’s chamber as she wrapped it with great care and brought it to the bed. He opened his arms and took the small infant, smiling down into the face of a miracle. And he felt his heart ache within him, as if it were his own. “I promise to love thee as though ye were my own and raise thee as thy father would have wanted.” He kissed the child small dark head, then handed him to his mother who watched him with tear filled eyes.
She took him and smiled, tears still streaming down her pale face, her damp hair in soft ringlets, her pale lips now pink and delicate. She looked at the child, William’s child and touched its face gently. “He’s beautiful... I—I prayed that he would look like William.” She lifted a small fist and kissed it tenderly. “Evan.” She tested this name on her lips and smiled.
He bent forward and kissed her softly. “I would go and tell my uncle that he has a grandson…!”
She nodded and kissed the child whose soft cries gave way to the large blue searching eyes of his father.
The midwife smiled at her and touched her cheek gently. “The almightily has been kind to thee.”
She smiled back tearfully.
“My lady, I have seen babes born early, thine is not overly so, see how alert he is, and how he struggles not for breath. He is small, but healthy. William would be proud of thee.”
Miranda smiled a teary smile and kissed her child again…
Edmund had been told by Nigel that the girl was giving birth. He sat up despite the painful wound that had been slow to heal. “Nay! ’Tis too soon!”
Nigel looked at him with worried eyes as Edmund clasped back against his pillows hopelessly. “What have I done that I deserve to have all taken from me…! Have I not suffered enough?!” The hours crept by slowly as he waited in the darkness of his chamber for word, any word, his heart bracing for the news that William’s child was dead…
Garrick tapped on his uncle’s door and opened it without waiting for a reply; the whole house was concerned for the child who had come early. Edmund’s haunted eyes searched his face as he whispered hopelessly in the dim light, “Tell me not that the child is dead…”
Garrick smiled reassuringly. “Uncle, all is well… the child is fine, and so is the girl.”
Edmund covered his face with a strong hand biting back the emotion that shook him. “’Tis alive…”
Garrick laid a hand on his shoulder as he spoke, “Aye, very much alive.”
He frowned. “A—and a boy?”
“Aye, uncle, a boy. William has given thee a grandson to take his place. A boy with hair as dark as his father’s.”
Edmund could not hide the smile that swept across his worried face. “A boy! My God! I have prayed so! Oh Garrick, all rides on that child!”
Garrick smiled. “I know, uncle, he shall be well protected and made worthy to take his father’s title, I promise ye that.”
Edmund struggled to sit up again. “I must go see him! Give me thy hand!”
At the soft tap at the door the midwife opened it; she laid a finger lightly to her lips and smiled. The two men walked silently into the dimly lit room towards William’s bed where an angel lay, her shiny ringlets spread across the pillow like a halo, her dark lashes resting on golden cheeks, her pink soft lips looked almost as if she smiled, and in her arm lay a small dark haired child that slumbered peacefully on.
Edmund bit back tears and stepped forward, his large hand reached down and gently touched the small dark curls that swept across his grandson’s head. He smiled and couldn’t help but think that the boy looked like his father had when he was but a babe. It was like seeing William’s birth all over again. He glanced at Garrick whose eyes were on the golden haired girl that slept innocently in his son’s bed. He smiled, pleased with the love he saw there. “She is lovely, Garrick.”
The man glanced at him and flushed at his thoughts. “Aye, lovely, an angel could not have been more so…” Garrick stepped forwards and gently lifted the child from his mother’s loose arm, not disturbing her restful sleep. He turned and handed the babe to his grandfather. “Evan Sheridan, m’lord.”
The old man raised dark brows; though he’d heard her speak of it beforehand he had not considered it much until now. Evan was a Welsh name. An English Earl with a welsh name? “Evan?” His gaze dropped to the child that slumbered in his arms. “I suppose ‘tis fitting, for if it was not for the love of a simple Welsh lass I would be left with not. Aye, Evan it shall be.”
Garrick nodded. “’Tis fitting, his father would have thought so too.”
Edmund looked around his son’s chamber’s that still looked the way it had the very day he’d left, more than glad the girl had treasured the room as he had. “’Tis fitting that the child be born here... and that William be given a son.”
Garrick nodded, “Aye, all has been righted again, uncle.”
The old man just smiled and kissed he babe in his arms.
Garrick looked at the girl again, knowing that all things were righted for him too. He would no longer be alone with the memories of lost love, but have a family to fill his life and days. The healer had told him it would be over a month till she could be a proper wife to him, he would wait; it would be enough that the girl would be his…
When Miranda woke, it was night; her body was weak and ached from what she had endured. Her hand went to her now flat empty stomach and she looked towards the chair next to the bed with worried eyes thinking of what Lydan had said though she knew she shouldn’t. But instead teary eyes found Garrick where he sat with one leg propped on the rail of her bed holding her son as he gazed down lovingly at the child. He glanced up and smiled at her. “Ah Evan, thy mother ‘tis finally awake. And just in time I think, the child has found his fist but it has not satisfied his hunger.”
She smiled, a soft blush on her cheeks.
He stood and laid the child in her arms as she looked at him shyly.
He smiled down at her. “I—ye—” He laughed softly. “I shall leave ye till morning. Sleep well, my lady.”
She waited till he had gone then arranged the blanket so that both she and the child were covered and gently coaxed him to her nurse. She smiled at him and touched his soft face that reminded her so of William’s. He would have been proud, but no more than she was of both a man that had been her husband and of the son he had graced her with…
Chapter Sixteen
He was roused from his bed in the middle of the night with news from Morley and he knew he had been right. An hour later he was standing outside a barn where the man now lie, burned by the pine pitch he had spilled on himself in his haste to get away once he knew he had been found out. Garrick walked into the small barn they had kept him in and held a cloth to his nose from the smell of burning flesh that permeated the place. The man lay on a blanket on the straw, moaning and coughing, and there was naught anyone could do to help. The farmer’s wife had applied a salve, but he was too badly burned and none expected him to make it through the night… He paused praying all the while that it wasn’t Turin…! He walked closer to the big man knowing that he didn’t recognize him. He knelt beside him as he spoke softly. “Tell us thy name, so that if ye should not make it at least thy family may know.”
The man merely shook his head.
He needed to hear his voice, needed to be sure he was not Welsh so he coaxed him with questions. “Why did ye do such a thing? Was it worth the sacrifice ye have made?”
The man moaned and Garrick just shook his head. “Do ye want some wine to deaden the pain?”
The man looked to him with bloodshot eyes and nodded.
&nb
sp; Garrick had wine brought to him and helped him drink it. “Tell me at least why ye did such a thing, was it for Glenton Moor?”
“Nay—for the silver…” Garrick knew then that the man was not a Welshman once he heard his voice and he almost breathed a sigh of relief. “Silver? Who paid thee?”
The man laughed a bitter laugh as he struggled against the pain. “I—I cannot tell ye, he—he would kill me!”
Garrick nodded and looked down at him. “It would not matter to ye; surely, ye shall not make it through the night anyway, and why bear the guilt alone?”
The man bit back a sob at his words. “L—Lydan…‘twas…Lydan…”
Garrick knelt beside him listened with narrowed eyes.
He rode hard and long to get back to Whittington, his orders to his men were clear, stay vigilant in case there was more than just this one man. Although he wanted to see the girl and her child first, he went to his uncle’s room instead with the sorry news of Lydan’s involvement.
The old man stared at him unblinking from his bed. “I can hardly believe it… Is it true, Garrick?”
He nodded. “I have witnesses, uncle, thy men and mine also, and the farmer and his wife were in the barn as well.”
He drew a long breath. “And the arrow that was shot at me?”
“He said it was not intended to strike thee, Lydan had merely told him to frighten us, but ye turned thy mount and were struck in the process… He also told us that Lydan had devised the plan soon after he had found out about the three Welshmen for simple revenge against the girl and I. If for nothing more than to make trouble for us after I was given thy blessing to see the girl’s hand. For he was sure it would be an easy thing to blame the Welshmen for it all. And with her ill favored and devastated at the loss of her brother and locked in the tower there would be no wedding, uncle, and he would have lost naught. Though, at least for the girl’s sake I am glad it was not her brother or any Welshman that was involved.”
Edmund struggled to sit up and asked for a pen and ink. “Aye, for her sake ‘tis good…,” He sighed and then continued, “I shall inform my sister and let her take retribution out on her own son seeing that none but I were was injured or killed—save his own man. If I dare inform the King he shall not think twice of parting my nephew with his head, and I cannot do that to her…!” He finished the missive and handed it to Garrick. “Have one of my men take this to Radcliff at once.”
He nodded. “It shall be done as ye have asked.”
He knocked softly on the door and lifted the latch glad to find it unlocked. She was lying in the big bed fast asleep with the babe in her arms. He came in and looked at Amelia who now sat quietly sewing, and was glad that Edmund had allowed her to return. “Do they fair well?”
She whispered back, “Aye, they do.”
He sighed and sank down into the chair by the bed wanting to tell her the good news as soon as she woke. “I shall sit with them, Amelia, ye may go for now.”
The girl nodded and left with just a glance.
He sat back and watched them, they were his family now and it felt right in his heart. Three years ago he had thought his life was over, but in reality it was just beginning.
Miranda woke to then and turned to find him sitting aside the bed holding her son again. She smiled at them, it was hard not to, even after all they’d been though he had remained a safe haven for her.
He smiled at her and glanced back down at the boy. “He’s a fine child, Miranda.”
She could not find words to express how she felt right then, seeing him holding her child; he might not have been William, but he was the only other man in the world whom she wanted to share this moment with. He’d proven himself to her, and she trusted him with all her heart.
He came closer and settled his tall frame beside her carefully on the bed, the child still in his strong arms. He smiled down at her and then kissed her head tenderly. “All is well, my lady, all is well.” He told her of the things that had transpired with Lydan and she laid her head against his shoulder, looking at him with teary blue eyes, glad that at last it was finally over and that Turin would finally be safe.
He kissed her forehead softly and she closed her eyes. “One thing yet remains, m’lady… Will ye marry me, Miranda?”
She threaded her arms around him slowly and held herself to him with a soft smile on her face, knowing that she trusted him and cared for him in a way she thought she would never trust anyone again. “Aye… I shall.”
He slid a strong arm around her and held them both to himself, and then he smiled as he kissed her head softly knowing that the world was right yet again…
…The End …
Debra Kay Leland Page 28