Julie Garwood: Gentle Warrior

She sighed with frustration. "I do not think the king would take kindly to hearing his accounting called Domesday," Geoffrey said.

The priest cleared his voice and began to repeat a favorite story they had all heard at least five times since his arrival, but out of courtesy, Geoffrey and Roger and Elizabeth gave him their attention. They laughed when the humorous story was ended, and the priest was pleased. So pleased, in fact, that he launched into yet another and another tale.

As soon as the meal was over, Geoffrey said to Roger, "Go and see to the preparations for tomorrow." He then turned to Elizabeth and suggested that they retire for the evening.

Elizabeth quickly agreed. "There is something I must speak to you about," she told Geoffrey with a soft smile.

"And I must also talk to you," Geoffrey replied. His voice held no emotion and Elizabeth frowned with concern. When her husband tried to mask his feelings, as he was now doing, there was usually grave cause. She held his hand and followed him without a word.

When the bedroom door was shut against the world and they were alone, she still did not speak. She was learning her husband well and knew that he was considering his words with caution before he spoke. His frown told her that much.

Each undressed the other in silence. It had become a ritual for Elizabeth to take Geoffrey's sword and place it near the head of the bed, on her husband's side. This completed, she slipped between the covers and waited.

Geoffrey did not blow out the candles this night but came to Elizabeth with the lights glowing around them. He took her into his arms and kissed her gently.

"I would tell you my news first?" Elizabeth asked.

"I would rather have mine over and done with," Geoffrey replied. There was an almost savage tone to his voice and Elizabeth immediately felt a knot of worry form in her stomach. Geoffrey anchored Elizabeth 's legs with one of his and held her against his chest. He could not see her eyes, her face, and admitted that he did not want to. His words would cause her pain, and her pain would become his. "There is no easy way to tell you, Elizabeth," Geoffrey began as he stroked her hair.

Elizabeth pulled back, forcing Geoffrey to look at her. "Then tell me with speed," she suggested, becoming more frightened by the minute.

"The summons from William concerns Montwright," he stated. He watched Elizabeth as he spoke, saw her confusion, and hurried to conclude. "Your grandfather has been charged with treason."

"No!" Her denial sounded like the cry of a wounded animal.

"There is more," Geoffrey said. His voice was quiet and firm and Elizabeth forced herself to stay calm and listen. "Belwain has petitioned William for guardianship over Thomas. They are all in London by now and I have been called there. I leave tomorrow."

"I must go with you," Elizabeth stated. "We both must go. Please," she begged. "I would not be left behind, Geoffrey."

Geoffrey could not turn away from the agony in his wife's expression. "Yes, you will go with me. It is your family and it is only right," he concluded.

Elizabeth began to cry. "Our family," she corrected her husband. "What will happen?" she asked Geoffrey. "What will the king do?"

Geoffrey felt her trembling and held her tightly. "He will listen to all sides and then decide. Do not worry, Elizabeth. William is a fair king. Have faith in him."

"I cannot!" She buried her head in Geoffrey's shoulder and continued to weep.

Geoffrey held her until she was finished with her tears, soothing her with gentle words. "Do you have faith in me?" he asked when the weeping had subsided.

"You know that I do," Elizabeth answered.

"Then when I tell you all will be well, you believe me," Geoffrey argued.

"If you say it, then I will believe it," Elizabeth promised.

"I give you my word. I will not let your family be harmed."

"But what about you?" Elizabeth asked. "Can you promise me that you will not be harmed?"

Geoffrey was surprised by her question, for he was not in jeopardy. "I promise," he told her. "Now try to sleep. We ride hard tomorrow and again for two more days."

Elizabeth did not forget the news she wished to share with her husband. Her hand rested on her abdomen, in a protective gesture. She would not tell Geoffrey yet, she decided. He would not let her accompany him to face William if he knew she carried his child. And so she would wait until the problem with Belwain was solved. Then she would share her joy with Geoffrey. For now she would protect their babe, just as Geoffrey would protect her.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind. She would need her rest to meet the challenge ahead.

During the dark hours, she had the nightmare again. Geoffrey soothed her when she called out, telling her that she was distraught and overly tired and that was the reason for her terror. He asked her to share the dream with him, but Elizabeth could not. She clung to Geoffrey and prayed. Prayed that the nightmare was not an omen.

The trip to London took three long days. Elizabeth was exhausted and barely looked around when they entered William's domain. She wanted only to see Elslow and little Thomas, but Geoffrey would not allow it.

"You will have a bath and then rest. In the morning you will see them," he stated. "And meet your king."

She did not want to meet the king, and admitted only to herself that she was terrified of him. Although in her mind she knew that many of the stories about William were probably exaggerated, in her heart she believed them all.

They were given a spacious room overlooking the courtyard. The bed was twice the size of their bed at Berkley, and once Elizabeth was bathed and changed, she curled up in the middle of it, trying to keep her eyes open while she waited for Geoffrey's return. He had gone to give his greeting to William, and to find out what he could about Elslow and the charges.

She did not wake up until the following morning, vaguely remembering Geoffrey undressing her and warming her during the night. Her husband was again absent. A tray of food rested on the table near the bed but Elizabeth did not touch it. Her stomach was too upset to handle food. She dressed with care, knowing there was no way out of meeting William. She would look her best to make Geoffrey proud that she was his wife.

When she was done, she stood at the window and observed the people in the courtyard. She grew more tense with each passing second, praying that Geoffrey would hurry with his duties and come for her.

Roger came in Geoffrey's stead. "Where is Geoffrey?" she demanded with a tremor in her voice.

The loyal vassal took hold of Elizabeth 's arm and guided her out the door. Elizabeth saw that two of Geoffrey's men guarded the door and was mildly surprised.

"Your husband is with the king," Roger answered. "And so is your grandfather." He glanced at his mistress and saw her distress, yet there was nothing he could offer as comfort. He was as concerned as Elizabeth, though far better schooled in hiding his emotions. Geoffrey had not had time to confide in Roger, and so the vassal had no idea of the plan of action his lord would take.

"Your attendance has been requested," Roger stated. "By the king himself."

They had begun walking, but with Roger's words Elizabeth stopped suddenly. "He is the voice," she whispered. "I cannot go, Roger! It is the dream. I cannot go!"

Roger had no idea what Elizabeth was talking about, and wasn't sure how to proceed. "Your husband wishes you by his side," he said finally, knowing instinctively that Elizabeth would never deny Geoffrey.

His reasoning worked. Elizabeth straightened her shoulders and forced the terror from her eyes. "Then I must go," she responded.

She walked at Roger's side, through a maze of damp, ill-lighted corridors. They entered a large room, filled to capacity with people. All were dressed in splendid cloth, proclaiming their worth, and Elizabeth assumed that they were all titled subjects, waiting their turn for an audience with their king.