blade. Unlike your husband, Sir Haven has no death wish.”
“My husband did not want to die.”
“No? Perhaps he was only foolish.”
Roger had been foolish in the extreme, but Gennie was not about to share that with de Sessions’s loyal warrior, If Soames wanted absolution for his lord’s foul acts, let him seek it elsewhere. “My husband is not at issue here. He has already suffered for his misdeeds.”
“And you still think that Sir Haven has not?”
“I know not what to think, Soames.”
“I am more than willing to be at your service, should you wish to pursue this matter further.”
“And what matter is that, Soames?” Sir Haven’s stem voice issued from behind.
Gennie jumped. She turned to him with Soames. She felt very small with de Sessions glaring at her from the back of his horse.
“Lady Genvieve only wished to reassure herself of her son’s safety, sir.”
Gennie wondered at Soames’s vague, if true, response.
Stone-faced, Sir Haven looked at her. “You may come to me with your questions, madame. You need not bother my men.” He put his hand out to help her mount.
Faced with the choice of taking his hand or blistering his ears, Gennie spoke. “Sir, you…”
“Please you, madame, mount the horse.”
She shivered at the coldness in his expression; now was not the time to chastise him for his rudeness. She took his hand and mounted, wondering just how much more she would take from de Sessions before she killed him in a fit of temper.
Unfortunately, at the moment, he was all that stood between herself and a fate similar to her careless husband’s. She would find a way out of this, she just did not know when or how.
Chapter Six
Haven frowned. They should have arrived in York yesterday. Now another dawn would pass before they saw the outskirts of that city.
The delay was the widow’s fault entirely. A league back, he had paused so that she might eat. He had heard her stomach rumbling. And since the stubborn woman would not ask, he had kindly offered her some dried meat from his pouch. Of course the first thing she had done was pass the simple fare to her son. He would have let her go hungry, but the nearly constant sounds from her stomach annoyed him. So they had stopped and eaten.
He watched her tend her son and see her sister-in-law and servants fed. When she turned to serve his men, he had had enough. He took her by the arm, marched her to a fallen tree and, with a hand on her shoulder, forced her to sit. Grabbing the bread and cheese from her hands, he gave her a portion, then called Bergen to distribute the remainder. He ordered her to eat and watched to make sure she did not once more give her food away to Thomas, who came scampering up to his mother with a plea for sweets.
The display of hugs and teasing words between mother and son nearly turned Haven’s stomach, but the boy was obviously hungry for her attention.
The widow sent the boy off to her cook. Haven waited as patiently as he could for her to finish eating. When the last crumb vanished, he ordered the party to mount. Too much time had been wasted in coddling this woman.
Now, because the boy had a bellyache, they were stopped for the fourth time since morning. Shortly after midday, Thomas had begun to whine. Whimpering from the child had prompted Soames to request a halt. The severity of the boy’s condition concerned the older man.
Before they had reached an appropriate clearing, the whimpers had become cries. Haven had ground his teeth at the interruption, swallowed his curses and, at the first clearing, ordered the party to stop. And while the widow and her women tended the child, the cries had turned to howls.
Haven had left. A cowardly action, but one he excused because he knew nothing of childish bellies and how to fix one that ached. He had grabbed the water skins and stomped off to fill them at the nearby creek.
Now he had returned and found the boy sleeping in the sun with the nurse and Rebecca
“My husband did not want to die.”
“No? Perhaps he was only foolish.”
Roger had been foolish in the extreme, but Gennie was not about to share that with de Sessions’s loyal warrior, If Soames wanted absolution for his lord’s foul acts, let him seek it elsewhere. “My husband is not at issue here. He has already suffered for his misdeeds.”
“And you still think that Sir Haven has not?”
“I know not what to think, Soames.”
“I am more than willing to be at your service, should you wish to pursue this matter further.”
“And what matter is that, Soames?” Sir Haven’s stem voice issued from behind.
Gennie jumped. She turned to him with Soames. She felt very small with de Sessions glaring at her from the back of his horse.
“Lady Genvieve only wished to reassure herself of her son’s safety, sir.”
Gennie wondered at Soames’s vague, if true, response.
Stone-faced, Sir Haven looked at her. “You may come to me with your questions, madame. You need not bother my men.” He put his hand out to help her mount.
Faced with the choice of taking his hand or blistering his ears, Gennie spoke. “Sir, you…”
“Please you, madame, mount the horse.”
She shivered at the coldness in his expression; now was not the time to chastise him for his rudeness. She took his hand and mounted, wondering just how much more she would take from de Sessions before she killed him in a fit of temper.
Unfortunately, at the moment, he was all that stood between herself and a fate similar to her careless husband’s. She would find a way out of this, she just did not know when or how.
Chapter Six
Haven frowned. They should have arrived in York yesterday. Now another dawn would pass before they saw the outskirts of that city.
The delay was the widow’s fault entirely. A league back, he had paused so that she might eat. He had heard her stomach rumbling. And since the stubborn woman would not ask, he had kindly offered her some dried meat from his pouch. Of course the first thing she had done was pass the simple fare to her son. He would have let her go hungry, but the nearly constant sounds from her stomach annoyed him. So they had stopped and eaten.
He watched her tend her son and see her sister-in-law and servants fed. When she turned to serve his men, he had had enough. He took her by the arm, marched her to a fallen tree and, with a hand on her shoulder, forced her to sit. Grabbing the bread and cheese from her hands, he gave her a portion, then called Bergen to distribute the remainder. He ordered her to eat and watched to make sure she did not once more give her food away to Thomas, who came scampering up to his mother with a plea for sweets.
The display of hugs and teasing words between mother and son nearly turned Haven’s stomach, but the boy was obviously hungry for her attention.
The widow sent the boy off to her cook. Haven waited as patiently as he could for her to finish eating. When the last crumb vanished, he ordered the party to mount. Too much time had been wasted in coddling this woman.
Now, because the boy had a bellyache, they were stopped for the fourth time since morning. Shortly after midday, Thomas had begun to whine. Whimpering from the child had prompted Soames to request a halt. The severity of the boy’s condition concerned the older man.
Before they had reached an appropriate clearing, the whimpers had become cries. Haven had ground his teeth at the interruption, swallowed his curses and, at the first clearing, ordered the party to stop. And while the widow and her women tended the child, the cries had turned to howls.
Haven had left. A cowardly action, but one he excused because he knew nothing of childish bellies and how to fix one that ached. He had grabbed the water skins and stomped off to fill them at the nearby creek.
Now he had returned and found the boy sleeping in the sun with the nurse and Rebecca
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