CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jeffrey Hage, Fifth Earl of Newark and Sherwood, was everything Rory had imagined he would be. He wasn’t particularly tall, perhaps around six feet, but he was a big man with wide shoulders and enormous hands. He was also quite handsome even at his advanced age, with heavy, dark brows and a salt and pepper beard on his face. He was still hugging Kieran by the time Rory pulled up with the carriage and wagon bearing their belongings, joyfully kissing his son and praising God for his safe return. The old man was obviously thrilled. But the joy was short lived; the moment Kieran pointed out Rory, Jeffrey’s good humor fled. Rory could only make out a few sentences before the explosion.
“Who is she?” Jeffrey asked, stunned, his gaze on Rory several feet away.
Kieran had his arm around his father’s shoulders. “My wife, the Lady Rory Elizabeth Osgrove Hage.”
Jeffrey’s heavy eyebrows flew up. “Your wife?”
“Indeed.”
“Where is she from?”
“West of Ireland.”
“We will have no Irish bastards in this family!”
From that point, the conversation and the situation deteriorated. The joyful homecoming was ruined. Rory and Kaleef remained on the pony cart while David and Bud remained in the carriage, fearful of all the yelling going on. Yusef, having dismounted his horse several minutes earlier, came to stand next to Rory as they watched Jeffrey Hage rant. He was screaming at his son in a massively booming voice. Jeffrey told Kieran how stupid he was. He pointed out how disappointed he was in his son. Kieran took the barrage of insults with his usual stoic demeanor. He didn’t try to argue with his father or interrupt. Kieran simply let the man have his head.
But Rory wasn’t stoic; she was growing increasingly emotional watching Kieran’s father yell at him. Sean stepped in at some point to try and soothe their father, but Jeffrey literally shoved the man aside as he bellowed at Kieran. Kieran remained silent and composed, even when Jeffrey jabbed a big finger at him and thumped him in the chest. Sean and Christian stood next to their brother in mute support while Andrew made a futile attempt to calm their father. It was an ugly, chaotic scene and, somewhere in the middle of it, a couple of the lesser Hage knights were disbanding the army. They didn’t want the vassals to be witness to a family feud.
But Jeffrey Hage and his sons remained steadfast. Rory watched, disgusted and nauseous, until she was unwilling to witness the shouting any longer. Jeffrey Hage was a horrible, horrible man as far as she was concerned and she suddenly bailed out of the pony cart, practically running for the great gates of the ward. Yusef ran after her.
“Lady Hage!” he called. “Where are you going? Lady Hage!”
Rory broke into a dead run, heading for the gates. She had no idea that, behind her, Kieran caught a glimpse of her racing for the open gates and he made a break for Liberator. His father grabbed him by the front of his tunic to prevent him from following. Kieran cuffed the man to the point where Jeffrey lost his balance and fell to one knee. Instead of the Hage brothers going to the aid of their father, they were all racing for their steeds. Jeffrey Hage struggled to his feet, shouting his anger to all of his foolish, disobedient sons, but none of them were listening. They were all scrambling to follow Kieran as he raced after his wife.
Having closed behind the incoming army, the great gates lodged within the massive gatehouse of Southwell were cracked open enough to only allow one person at a time to enter. Rory darted through the opening and bolted off the road, into the town that literally butted right up against the inner wall. By this time, she was weeping hysterically, exhausted, pregnant and despondent over Kieran’s father’s reaction. All she wanted to do was get clear of the fighting, to cease being the cause of the friction. Her emotions were on edge and she didn’t have as much control as she normally had.
The town of Southwell was a maze of small alleys and streets, of homes and merchant stalls. It was actually fairly well developed for a Medieval town and Rory ran down a few little alleys until she came to a dead end that backed up against the inner wall. There was a stable next to the wall. She ran into it, looking for some kind of shelter. There were a few stalls with wide-eyed goats and a loft. She spied the small ladder that led up to the loft and climbed up.
It was a rickety, old loft full of freshly cut hay. Sobbing, Rory threw herself down on a pile of the stuff, feeling it cushion and poke her weary body. She’d been traveling for weeks, eight hundred years from her time and a thousand miles from that rocky beach at Nahariya. She may as well have been on the moon. She lay there, staring at the unevenly-thatched roof and thinking of her life for the past several weeks; the two orphan boys she was coming to love, Kaleef and Yusef, and a husband she loved more than words could express. But apparently, their marriage had been a very bad thing, indeed, at least as far as his father was concerned. Kieran had worked so hard to achieve his goals in life; he was proud, honorable and compassionate. She just couldn’t stomach the thought that, after everything, his father would think him stupid or irresponsible. All because of her.
Several more minutes of painful sobbing saw her fall into an exhausted sleep.
*
Kieran and Sean had been searching for Rory for nearly an hour. Yusef was with them. Having lost Rory nearly the moment she entered the town, he had returned to the castle to collect his horse. Along with Christian and Andrew, they were blanketing the town, a town they knew particularly well. As young children, they used the town as their private playground, so they knew all of the nooks and crannies.
Few things had changed in the town since Kieran had left. Even so, he hadn’t been able to locate his wife and was growing increasingly apprehensive. He and his brothers had upended the five taverns in town, interrogating the patrons and turning any sleeping rooms upside down. Soon, the whole town of Southwell was aware that Sir Kieran Hage, newly returned from the Crusades, was searching for his errant wife and citizens of the town began searching for her of their own accord. It helped that Kieran had promised a huge reward.
Andrew, accompanied by Yusef, went off towards the south end of town to search. As the afternoon drew into evening, Kieran, Sean and Christian left the very last tavern where they had given the barkeep a few coins to aid in the search for Lady Hage. The barkeep knew everyone in town and usually had his finger on the pulse of any information. Plodding back to the chargers through the darkening streets, Kieran finally allowed his despair to swamp him. He couldn’t resist it any longer; it had been a long and stressful trip only to return home to a ranting father and a distraught wife. He suddenly slumped forward in the saddle, dropping the reins and wiping his hand over his face in a weary, defeated gesture. Liberator, without Kieran’s strong hand reining him, came to a confused stop. Sean and Christian came to a halt beside him.
“We shall find her,” Sean assured him quietly. “She is hiding, somewhere. She cannot have run far.”
Kieran sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes exhaustedly. “I know,” he muttered, blinking his eyes and trying to focus on his next course of action. “But it does not erase the fact that even when I find her, she will be shattered. What woman would not, given the way Father acted?”
Sean refrained from “I told you so”; Kieran didn’t need to hear that. “She will recover,” he said. “Remember that Father did not like Margaret when I married her, either. Her family was not good enough, he said. Do you recall? It took him a year to warm to her and when Ellie was born, he fell in love with them both.”
Kieran’s jaw ticked as he stared moodily out into the darkness. “But Maggie is a Bigod,” he said. “She is from one of the finest families in England so his argument of her being from an inferior family was baseless. Libby is… she is from minor nobility. But she is the most brilliant, courageous and beautiful woman I have ever met. She has risked her life for me and I owe her everything.”
Sean glanced at Christian, who was looking at his eldest brother’s lowered head. It was clear that he was sympathetic. Sean and Christian exchanged glances.
“What would you have us do, Kieran?” Christian asked. “Shall we continue to search?”
Kieran shook his head vaguely. “There is nothing more to do unless we want to tear this town apart house by house,” he muttered. “I am confident Libby is in no danger; we would have heard the screams. She is, if nothing else, loud and demonstrative. She is hiding somewhere, licking her wounds, and I will find her.”
“And then what?” Christian pressed quietly.
Kieran lifted his big shoulders. “I do not know. I will not force her to live where she is not comfortable. If Father cannot come to terms with our marriage and treat her civilly, then I will have no choice but to occupy Peveril Castle. I will not stay where my wife is not welcome.”
Sean’s brow furrowed. “Peveril?” he repeated. “That places is an outpost and unworthy of you.”
Kieran looked at him. “It is mine, given to me upon my birth through Father. It is still a royal outpost for the king with royal troops. I will take my wife there and we will raise our family.”
Sean sighed heavily and looked away. “Do not do anything rash, Kieran. You have only just returned and I do not want to lose my brother again so soon. At least let us speak with Father and try to rectify this situation.”
Kieran didn’t reply; he simply leaned forward on his saddle horn, exhausted. Sean nodded at Christian. The younger Hage brother took the hint and began to move away, returning to the castle. Sean reined his charger next to Kieran and lowered his voice.
“Christian is going to return and speak with Father,” he said quietly. “I will stay with you if you wish and continue the search for your wife.”
Kieran thought on that a moment before shaking his head. “Nay,” he said after a moment. “I will search for my wife alone. Return to Maggie and give her my love. I will return as soon as I can. Make sure that Kaleef and the two young servant boys are well taken care of, if you please.”
Sean clapped him on the shoulder and was gone, following Christian up the dark streets back to the gatehouse of Southwell. Kieran remained still for a moment before collecting his reins and pushing forward.
He took a different path than his brothers. He reined Liberator into a series of small streets that butted up against the inner wall of Southwell. He simply plodded along, looking into any little open door or crevice, hoping to spot that beautiful chestnut head. He was feeling increasingly despondent, so incredibly sad on her behalf. His father’s ranting was nothing new to him; he’d been dealing with it since he had been a child. Jeffrey Hage was a cruel, competitive man. Kieran knew that, but Rory didn’t. He should have been more sensitive to that.
He ended up near a dead end. He could see down the alley and it was dark and cold. He was about to turn away when a small boy suddenly appeared. Kieran reined Liberator back so the horse wouldn’t snap at the child, but the little boy kept coming towards him. Kieran finally held out a hand.
“Stop,” he commanded. “My horse may injure you if you come any closer.”
The boy stopped and stared at the horse as if it had fangs. Kieran looked at the child. The boy was fairly well bundled up against the cold, so he wasn’t an orphan. Someone took care with the child. Kieran started to rein Liberator around, muttering to the child as an afterthought.
“You haven’t seen a strange woman around here, have you?” he grumbled.
“Oy!” the kid piped up.
Kieran paused, peering more closely at the child. “What did you say?”
The boy threw an arm out, pointing behind him. Seized with the possibility, Kieran dismounted Liberator in a hurry and approached the child.
“Did you see a finely dressed woman?” he asked, eager.
The boy nodded and began to run. Kieran ran after him. They ended up at a small stable that butted against the inner wall of Southwell and the boy jabbed his finger at the leaning structure. Kieran sized it up.
“In there?” he asked, pointing to the stable.
The kid nodded emphatically. Kieran put a trencher-sized hand on the boy’s head, dwarfing him, and gave the kid a gold coin. It was more money than the child had probably ever seen in his life. Silently, Kieran entered the dark structure.
It was shadowed and eerie. The first things Kieran saw were two goats, looking up at him with big, curious goat-eyes. With the utmost quiet, Kieran proceeded to peer into the four stalls of the stable. They were cluttered with hay and other implements, but he had yet to see anything human. Puzzled, he stood back and assessed the room when his gaze moved upward and he noticed the loft.
There was a small ladder in the corner that led up to the loft. With extreme care, he made his way slowly up the ladder, his senses alert, as his head finally emerged into the second level. His eyes moved over the hay-filled area but he didn’t see anything other than dried grass. It was very dark and he took another step on the ladder, gaining a better look. Still, all he could see was hay. Puzzled, discouraged, he was about to turn away when his gaze fell on a foot.
But it wasn’t any foot. It was a big, ugly boot that he recognized. Relief such as he had never known swept him and he very nearly fell off the ladder as the wave of comfort and joy washed through him. Creeping up the ladder, he moved across the loft, towards the boot, on his hands and knees. Rory was lying on a small pile of hay, wedged between the wall and the hay. Her foot was the only thing visible. And she was sleeping like the dead, snoring softly.
Kieran looked at her, a lump forming in his throat. Truth be told, he was exhausted himself. He had tried so hard to keep Rory happy and soothed during this very difficult transition, but she still wasn’t settling in. He knew it was very hard for her and the addition of an unexpected pregnancy was only making it worse. Still, he would be lost without her. Those few hours she was missing were the worst of his life. He felt like a failure that she had been so despondent it had caused her to flee. Removing his helm, he crawled into the space between Rory and the wall, and lay down beside her. The moment he touched her, the tears came.
Rory woke up to the sounds of sniffles. Her eyes rolled open to the sight of Kieran lying beside her. The moment their eyes met, he threw his arms around her and burned his face in her neck, sobbing quietly.
Rory was startled. She wrapped her arms around him and held him as closely as she could. She didn’t even stop to wonder how he had found her; it never crossed her mind. All that mattered was that the man, her rock, was weeping.
“Baby,” she whispered into the top of his dark blond hair. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
He couldn’t even answer her. He just held her tightly, weeping into her neck. But very quickly, he composed himself, wiping his face furiously with one hand while holding her with the other. Rory lay silent as the man pulled himself together after his painful outburst. She stroked his face, his hair, kissing his forehead until he was strong enough to look her in the eye.
“I am sorry,” he whispered. “Forgive my weakness.”
She kissed his cheek tenderly. “I’m the one who should apologize,” she murmured. “I’ve made your life miserable since we appeared on that rocky beach in Nahariya. I’ve done nothing but complain and cry and behave horribly. I’m sorry I ran away; I just couldn’t watch your father scream at you anymore. I just snapped.”
A big hand was stroking her cheek. “I understand,” he said softly. “I am so accustomed to his rants that it did not occur to me that it would take a toll on you. I apologize for his hateful words. Realizing he has hurt you… it shatters me. We will leave Southwell tomorrow and go to my holding of Peveril. I will not permit my father to spout abuse and hurt you.”
She smiled sadly. “I’m a big girl. I can take it. I promise; no more running. I didn’t mean to scare you so badly. I just couldn’t stand watching him yell at you. I felt like I just needed to get out of there.”
His expression tightened. “He has been yelling at me all my life. It is the way of things.”
“It’s wrong, Kieran.”
“It is his way.”
Rory felt so sorry for the man. She knew what it was like to have an abusive parent. Her mother had been the same way; never happy with her only child, constantly brow-beating her for improvement. Rory kissed him, firmly, and Kieran responded ferociously. He loved her so strongly that words could not express the strength of the emotion. Rolling Rory onto her back, his big hands moved over her torso, his mouth moving to the swell of her bosom. He pinched her nipples gently through the fabric, listening to her groan. Then he took a full breast in his hand, squeezing carefully.
“You are still wearing your bra,” he murmured against her lips.
She laughed, shaking with mirth as he fingered the underwire. “I can’t help it. I don’t feel dressed unless I have it on.”
“It is too much of a barrier between your flesh and mine,” he growled. “I suppose you have those odd undergarments on as well.”
She continued to giggle. “Yes, I am wearing panties.”
He growled and tossed up her skirts, putting his hand over her mouth when she squealed. As she continued to giggle, he pulled off the lacy white panties, wedging his enormous body between her legs and putting his mouth on her groin.
“I cannot taste your flesh with those oddities against your body,” he growled, grabbing her behind the knees and lifting her legs. He suckled and lapped the tender flesh of her inner thigh. “I must have my fill of you.”
Her giggles were fading as his mouth moved to the sensitive core between her legs. He began to suckle on the pink folds and she grasped him by the hair.
“Kieran,” she half-hissed, half-moaned. “Don’t…”
He ignored her, feeling her squirm in his hands. “You’ll not tell me no, Lib, not ever.”
She was quickly succumbing to his wicked tongue. “But… this is just weird. I’m pregnant and…”
He kissed her pink folds gently, his hand moving to her still-flat belly, and he kissed the soft flesh reverently. “I know,” he whispered. “I would taste where my son has been conceived, where our love has come to fruition. I can never be closer to you or to him than at this moment. Do not deny me that.”
Rory’s head came up and she looked at him, wedged down between her legs. She watched him as he kissed her belly and lay his great head against it. Tears sprang to her eyes.
“That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” she sniffled. “I love you so much.”
He didn’t say anything; he just lay there with his head against her stomach. When he did speak, his lips were against her flesh.
“Nothing my father says can hurt us or break us,” he murmured. “We are strong, you and I.”
Rory lowered her head, staring up at the dark rafters of the stable. “We are strong enough to have defied time and history,” she murmured. “I suppose your father is small potatoes by comparison.”
His head came up, the brown eyes gazing steadily at her. “What is potatoes?”
She half-grinned, running her fingers through his cropped hair. “Never mind,” she said. “It wouldn’t mean anything to you, anyway. I guess I just meant that your father is small in comparison to whatever Fates have brought us to this point in time. Your father couldn’t break us if he tried.”
Kieran kissed her belly one last time and sat up, looking around for the white panties he had tossed aside. He found them behind him and retrieved them, sliding them awkwardly up her legs as she giggled. When he had them secure, he just sat there and looked at them.
“I sincerely hate those,” he muttered.
She laughed, sitting up and pulling her skirts down. “Why?”
“Because they are odd.” He wriggled his eyebrows. “But they are strangely enticing at the same time. I cannot make up my mind.”
She couldn’t argue with him. They sat there a moment, gazing steadily at each other. Kieran finally reached out and cupped her chin gently.
“Are you ready to return to Southwell?” he asked.
Her smile faded. “Yes,” she said reluctantly. “But I made a fool of myself running off like that.”
He shook his head and held out a hand to help her to her feet. “You did no such thing,” he said. “My brothers were as worried for you as I was.”
Rory let him help her down the ladder, emerging into the dark stable below. Liberator was just outside the stable, munching on a big pile of hay that had fallen from the loft. Kieran made sure the horse was stable before lifting Rory into the saddle. He mounted behind her, holding her safe and secure as he directed Liberator back to the gatehouse.
*
“I shall not hear rebuke from my own son.” Jeffrey thrust a big finger in Christian’s face. “You always were a fool, Christian. If you married a lowly peasant, I would understand. But I expected better of Kieran.”
Tall, flame-haired Christian was the most like his father out of the four Hage brothers. He was hotheaded and brash, often speaking before thinking. But he understood his father better than the other three and was usually the best one to reason with him for that fact. At this moment, however, Jeffrey did not want to be reasoned with.
“The man has just returned home from the great Quest,” Christian stated, his tone somewhat taut in the face of his father’s insult. “You have not seen him in three years and the first words out of your mouth are labeling him foolish and stupid? Is that really what you think of him?”
Jeffrey’s jaw ticked. “He should not have married without my permission.”
“That does not make him foolish or stupid.”
“Aye, it does!” Jeffrey stomped about in the lavish solar of Southwell, a room that was resplendent with the riches of the Hages; tapestries, plate and other utensils lined the walls and hearth to an obvious degree. “He knows better. Why should he behave so?”
“Because he loves her,” answered Sean as he entered the solar, pulling off his big, leather gloves. He moved for the pitcher of wine on the nearby table. “According to Kieran, she is brave and intelligent. And, as we all saw, she is extremely beautiful. It was only natural that he succumbed to her.”
Jeffrey didn’t like it when his sons banded against him, which was often. “So you defend him as well?” he snarled. “I should have expected it. You always defend him and he always defends you. But I care not what you say; he should not have married that Irish rubbish.”
Sean sighed heavily, turning to look at his father with his wine in hand. “If I were you,” he said evenly, “I would not call the woman rubbish in front of Kieran. He is likely to take your head off.”
“I shall disown him!”
Sean drank his wine, snorting into the cup. “As if he needs you,” he said. “The man has more wealth than you do. He just doesn’t flaunt it so lavishly.”
Near the door, Christian nodded. “Peveril Castle and the fiefdom of Dykemore and Sewall, and the heir apparent to the earldom of Newark and Sherwood,” he reminded his father as if the man did not already know. “He also inherited all of the lands from Warrington to Liverpool, the Hawkesbury baronetcy, through mother’s Jenkinson relations. He is far wealthier than you, Father, and far more influential.”
Jeffrey knew that. He also didn’t like to be reminded. “He’ll not get the earldom if I disown him,” he snapped. “It will go to Sean.”
Sean shook his head and took another drink. “Do not think to hand me that mess of titles so easily,” he said. “I have the baronet of Walcot. I am quite content.”
It was unfortunate that the sons had to treat their father with such callousness but not too unfortunate considering all the man had ever done was pit one against another. But Eleanor Britton du Reims-Hage’s common sense and good graces had been inherited by her boys. They knew their father for what he was; an over-emotional, brilliant, deeply family oriented bully. It was a strange paradox.
Jeffrey watched Sean pace the room with a cup in hand while Christian simply stood his ground near the door. Realizing that he was not supported in his reaction to Kieran’s marriage, Jeffrey slowly sat behind the massive oak desk that had once belonged to his grandfather. It was a heavy, carved thing, massive in size. It was the desk of a powerful earl.
“Still,” Jeffrey muttered. “I expected more from Kieran.”
The calm expression on Sean’s face faded as he turned to his father. He watched the man a moment, unable to control the anger that was building within him.
“You expected more?” he muttered bitterly. He moved towards his father. “Let me tell you something about Kieran and let us pray that you can understand my words; the man is returning home a hero. He fought with Richard for three years in the godforsaken lands of The Levant to make you and his family proud. He was so great that whilst he was there, he earned a reputation for himself that Saladin himself had heard of. It was so great, in fact, that when the Muslims were prepared to extend an offering of peace to the Christian armies, they contacted the only Christian they felt they could trust by reputation alone, Sir Kieran Hage. My brother was asked by the Muslim commanders to relay their peace offering. And you expect more from the man? He is greater than you could ever hope to be and I, for one, am extremely proud of him. I love and respect my brother even if you do not.”
By the time Sean was finished, Jeffrey was gazing at the man without his usual belligerence. It was rare when Sean became upset and Jeffrey took notice, even if it was difficult for him to rein in his pride. Meeting Sean’s intense gaze, he was the first to lower his eyes.
“Kieran is my son,” he said hoarsely. “Of course I love and respect him.”
But Sean wasn’t finished yet. “You had better,” he growled. “And let me tell you something else; Kieran has returned home because his men, friends he trusted, turned on him out of jealousy and tried to kill him. He came home to seek counsel and protection, and all you can do is scream at him like a fishwife for having married a woman he is in love with. You make me ashamed, Father; you make me horribly ashamed of the way you have treated him.”
Jeffrey’s dark brow furrowed with outrage. “What do you mean there are men attempting to kill him? Who is trying to kill him?”
Sean wondered if his father had even heard the rest of what he had said. In the long run, he supposed it didn’t matter much. He had his attention now.
He told Jeffrey everything.