Page 99 of The Forsaken
“The heir apparent is protesting this unexpected turn of events,” Quinn explained as her belly vibrated from another kick. She reached for Gabe. “He’s just going to have to deal with it.”
“Strict mums are so sexy,” Gabe growled as he began to unbutton her top, the baby momentarily forgotten despite its displeasure. Quinn might be more distracted and occasionally forgetful, but the pregnancy was wreaking havoc on her hormones, kicking her libido into overdrive. She’d been like a tuning fork the past few weeks, vibrating with desire, which he was only too happy to satisfy in whatever way she liked.
SIXTY
CHRISTMAS DAY 1464
Berwick-Upon-Tweed, Northumberland
The celebration at Stanwyck Hall exceeded expectations. The earl had much to celebrate and wished to share his joy with his retainers. He’d become a grandfather just two weeks before Christmas and decided to use the annual feast as an opportunity to introduce the world to his grandson, Edward, named after the Yorkist king. The earl’s son, Robert Ambrose, glowed with pride when he brought the baby to the great hall. The child looked contented enough, swaddled in blankets and furs to keep him warm, but the boy’s mother hovered behind her husband, looking fretful as though she feared the child would catch a chill in the drafty hall.
Watching from her table, Kate could understand the mother’s anxiety. Babies were so fragile, especially during the winter months. Any sniffle could turn into an ague and carry the child off within days. The mother was hardly more than a child herself, fifteen if she was a day. She had barely recovered from the birth, but the pride in her eyes when she smiled at her son was unmistakable and Kate felt a pang of envy, which quickly turned to shame as Hugh chose that moment to comment.
“Wed shorter than us, and a boy already in the cradle,” Hugh growled under his breath. “A wedding night babe is a blessing on the family.”
Guy turned to Hugh, a small smile playing about his lips. “Speaks of the prowess of the father, I should think,” he said. “The Ambroses are a virile lot.”
“That they are,” Hugh agreed, probably too drunk to perceive the slight to his manhood. “It’s now up to you, Guy.”
“What is up to me?”
“You must marry and have sons, or our line will die out should Adam not live long enough to sire an heir.”
Eleanor blanched at Hugh’s words, her eyes growing round. Hugh had given voice to her worst fear, and possibly his own greatest hope.
“Adam will grow into a fine man and have many sons,” Guy reassured Eleanor. “Don’t listen to Hugh; he’s too deep in his cups to talk sense.”
Eleanor nodded, but her eyes darted around the hall, as though searching for Adam, who’d been seated at the end of the long trestle table on the opposite side of the hall with other children his age. Adam’s seat was unoccupied, as were several others at that end. The boys were at the front of the hall, watching the jugglers, who’d begun their performance after the earl’s grandson was taken back to his bedchamber. There were several girls as well, but they seemed more interested in the boys than the entertainment. Some of the girls were betrothed as early as eight years old, and the boys who were cheering on the jugglers and applauding the mummers might well have been their future lords.
“I do hope they finish soon,” Guy said as he watched the jugglers. “I’ve a mind to dance, and I hope you ladies will partner me.” Guy smiled at Kate and Eleanor. They had enjoyed the food, which was plentiful and exquisitely prepared, but what really made the feast special for Kate and Eleanor was the entertainment. The earl’s minstrels had taken turns, singing romantic ballads about chivalrous knights and reciting poems of bravery in battle. They were positioned next to the earl’s table, occasionally taking requests from him and his lady and keeping to tunes that didn’t result in indigestion for their lord. Once the meal ended, they would collect their instruments and move into the adjacent chamber, where there would be dancing into the small hours of the morning.
“Of course, Guy,” Eleanor replied politely. She didn’t look in the mood to dance, but she’d never openly admit to being unhappy in public.
“And you, Kate?”
“If my husband has no objection,” Kate replied demurely.
“It’s all right with me,” Hugh said, reaching for the pitcher of mead. “I’ve no love of dancing.”Nor love of your wife, Kate thought bitterly.
“It’s settled, then. First Eleanor, then Kate,” Guy observed with more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary.
If he wanted to cheer them up, Kate thought it would take more than a dance or two to lift the pall Hugh had cast on their spirits—but she was wrong.
She hadn’t danced in ages, and once the music began in earnest, she could barely keep her feet from tapping in time to the merry tunes. She waited patiently while Guy danced with Eleanor, then allowed him to escort her to the dance floor.
There were at least a dozen couples, all flushed from the warmth of the fire and the effects of the wine. Hugh was nowhere to be seen, which added to Kate’s enjoyment of the dance. She danced with joy, remembering the steps without any difficulty. Guy was easy to dance with, and his fingers were warm and gentle as he held her hand, turning her this way and that as the current of the music flowed over them. Kate laughed when Guy made a face at her after he’d been nearly knocked off his feet by a portly man who was too unsteady on his feet to be dancing.
“Your laugh is like the tinkle of carillons,” Guy said, referring to the hand bells one of the minstrels was playing. “I can’t recall the last time I heard you laugh,” he added, his eyes growing more serious.
“Neither can I,” Kate confessed. She was enjoying herself and the laughter had come naturally, taking her by surprise. It diedon her lips when she spotted Hugh and Eleanor down the line of dancers.
Hugh hadn’t danced with Kate since the first time they’d been invited to Stanwyck Hall for the Christmas Feast, but he was now partnering Eleanor, looking for all the world like he was enjoying the dancing. His gaze was firmly fixed on Eleanor, who seemed to have recovered from his earlier bout of cruelty and was smiling up at him. Hugh’s grin transformed his face and reminded Kate that she’d thought him handsome once.
It would have been unseemly for her to keep dancing with Guy, so she accepted invitations from the Earl of Stanwyck and his sons, as well as several other knights in the earl’s service. Guy partnered the duchess and then danced with Amelia Ambrose and several other ladies Kate didn’t know. She tried to focus on her partners, but her gaze frequently strayed to Guy, who seemed to be enjoying himself. Before his spell at court, Guy would have danced with Kate and Eleanor and sat the rest of the dancing out, reluctant to dance with ladies who were unknown to him, but today he seemed remarkably at ease and conversed with his partners easily as he led them around the floor.
Kate plastered a smile on her face as Hugh took her by the arm to claim a dance. “I thought you had no wish to dance,” she said.
“I changed my mind,” Hugh replied lightly. He was leading Kate, but his gaze remained on Eleanor, who was two couples ahead of them, dancing with the earl. “She’s still beautiful,” Hugh said softly.
