Nicholas was gone when Gemma awoke the next morning. Isabel was waiting rather impatiently outside her quarters for her to arise. She remembered he had to get up before the sun to deal with Phillip. He was seeing him off to London to face Henry and would return as quickly as he could.
The youngest de Vere bounced into the room, and Gemma blushed, remembering what she had done the night before with her husband. Husband. She had once pledged never to marry, but he was indeed her husband. Now, she was a wife in every way. What made her smile, despite the pain in her jaw and the sore feeling that encompassed the rest of her body, was he had softened the night before, and she held hope now the past could be put behind them.
Isabel stopped beside the bed, looking at her sister with questions in her eyes. "Gemma? Are you well? You look funny."
"Please do not fret." She took her sister's hand and held it tightly. "My face hurts a bit, but 'twill get better within a few days and I shall look like my old self again."
"Nay, not that," Isabel said with an exaggerated smile, "you have a silly look on your face. You look like Leda does when her husband comes to the kitchen and pinches her on the rear. They think no one sees them, but I do."
Gemma laughed. The love between Leda and her husband was truly an inspiration. She thought to warn the cook that Isabel was seeing more than she might realize while in the kitchen but then decided against it. It certainly could not hurt Isabel to learn affection between husband and wife was precious.
"I do not know what you mean," Gemma said, patting a spot next to her on the bed. "Mayhap I look like what a bride should look like on the second day of her marriage?"
"Hmm…" Isabel climbed carefully up onto the bed and snuggled down next to her sister. "Mayhap," she finally agreed.
"Where is Hesse?" Gemma asked, looking toward the doorway.
"She is out in the passageway talking with Willis. Nicholas had to go on a long ride today, so Willis is here to play with me and make sure we are all safe."
Gemma laughed again even though it hurt her cheek. The image of the stoic Willis playing with Isabel produced an amusing image in her mind. "Have you seen Oliver? Is he about?"
"He is in with Father. I visited Father this morning, and he told me a story. He talks slow and wasn't smiling much, but he is so much better."
"'Tis great!" Gemma said, her spirits lifting. She wanted to see her father. It was important he not know what had happened to her though, so she would have to figure out how cover her bruise. Though she could not see her face, Isabel's initial reaction told her it was an ugly bruise.
"What can we do today? I do not wish to sit with Father Darius. 'Tis such a nice day, and he is so boring." Isabel wiggled on the bed, unable to sit still. She drew out the last word and sighed.
"First, you will go break your fast with Hesse. You can also let Leda know I am feeling a bit sore and wish to eat up here, if she would bring me something up after everyone else has eaten. You can go with Hesse to the pond this morning if you wish, but you are to stay near Willis. In the afternoon, you can come up and see me again. If I am feeling better, we shall visit Father, and then mayhap we can find something fun to do together."
Much to Gemma's surprise, Isabel simply nodded as she jumped off the bed. She scampered out of the room without another word. Hesse was pleading with her to slow down or surely she might break her neck on the steps.
Once it was quiet, Gemma closed her eyes and leaned back to her pillow. It was going to be a good day. Leda brought her food, but she ate little. She then asked Leda to find someone to bring up a bath and to summon her chambermaid to help her.
She sat in her bath as long as she could before the water cooled, thinking about her life and the recent changes that had come about so fast. The tapestry hanging behind the head of her bed depicted a brave knight saving a princess. She was not a princess by any means, but she almost believed Nicholas had truly come to save them. The castle was quiet, and she felt peaceful for the first time in a long time.
Feeling better, she gingerly stepped out of the tub, and her chambermaid wrapped her in a linen cloth. The skies were darkening outside, dimming the available light in her chamber. They had endured a long spell without rain. It appeared as if the coming storm would be a powerful one, and she hoped Hesse would bring Isabel in soon. The rest of the day was dark after the rains came. She sneaked in to see her father, taking advantage of the low light, hoping he would not notice the bruising on her face. They ate and turned in with no sign of Nicholas.
When he did arrive, it was long after the sun had set. Gemma guessed it was after midnight. She slept fitfully, and the moment he set foot into their chamber she knew he was there. He appeared tired and drawn in the candlelight and did not say much to her as he readied for bed.
"Everything was taken care of?" she asked as he fell onto the bed, not bothering to remove his clothes or get under the covers. "Phillip is gone?"
"Aye," he said, "he is out of our hands now. Go to sleep. We can speak of it on the morrow."
She was a bit confused. He seemed irritated, much like the Nicholas she knew before their wedding day. "Are you well?"
"Go to sleep," he repeated in a flat tone. "I am tired and have had no rest."
Ice water seeped through her veins. Something had happened, and he was not telling her. "Please, Nicholas, if something is amiss, I must know."
He made an unidentifiable noise and said nothing.
She wanted to scream. They had come so far and now he was in a black mood again. What could have happened in London with Henry? Had Phillip given him trouble?
"Please, Nicholas, if you are worried or stressed, I wish to know, as it affects me as well."
Finally, he sat up. "Fine, I will give you a report. Your brother has still not been found. No trace of him has turned up anywhere. Henry says your brother is unimportant now, which was strange for him to say. The king wishes to leave soon, as the birth of his child in the fall nears, and he has business outside of England. He is worried I cannot handle what is going on here, as he was sure I should have done more than brought him Bigod by now."
"I am sorry," she whispered as she laid a hand gently on his arm.
He did not move out of her grasp but made no move toward her.
"Do you not want me to touch you?"
"I do not know what I wish. It seems Bigod does not want to be of any use. I drilled him all the way to London, but he insists his family had nothing to do with what happened to mine. He also said 'twas the work of your father. I do not know what to think anymore. I just wish to rest, as I am weary."
Her spirits were dashed. She removed her hand and rolled away from him. It was too much to ask for. The peace between them was again broken. He sounded more tired than angry, but the tenderness in his voice from the night before was gone. She understood his confusion, but at the same time, he should have known better than to listen to Phillip after he had proved himself to be a worthless knave. The Bigods had come between them all those years ago it would seem, and now it looked as if they had done it all over again.
She did not cry. She simply closed her eyes and tried to sleep.