Page 186 of Historical Hotties
She shook her head, wiping at her eyes. “Nay,” she squeaked.
He went to her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Why not?”
She began to weep again, falling forward against him as he swallowed her up in his massive embrace. He rocked her gently,fighting off a smile. She was an emotional wreck these days as the pregnancy wreaked havoc with her thoughts.
“Because I dunna feel well,” she wept. “Nothing fits me properly and my belly aches.”
“All right, love, do not trouble yourself,” he rubbed her back, her arms gently. “I will go into town and deliver these to the seamstress. Shall I get you some custard cakes while I am there?”
She nodded, wiping at her eyes. “I want a dozen of them. And mind ye dunna forget to go to the merchant with the spice cakes. I would have some of them as well.”
His grin broke through; she ate nothing but sweets these days and then would cry because she was not fitting into any of her clothes. In truth, he was quite enjoying it because she was animated and humorous when she was not raging with the change of the hour. He kissed the top of her head and let her go.
“Then if I am to go into town, I must get my armor together and collect my horse,” he said. “Is there anything else you want?”
“Nay.”
“Are you sure you do not want to go?”
“I am sure.”
“Do you want to accompany me to the armory?”
She nodded moodily and he took her hand, leading her out into the weak November sunshine. It was cool this day but not tremendously so. Carington was clad in a long sleeved woolen shift and surcoat and was quite warm. But she was pouting and miserable and Creed kept kissing her hand as they crossed into the outer bailey to one of the squatty towers that contained the armory. Somewhere in their walk, Stanton emerged from the stables and ran to catch up to them.
“Good morn to you, Lady de Reyne,” he said pleasantly. “It is a fine morning today.”
He was making small talk with her but Carington frowned at him. “’Tis a terrible day, Stanton de Witt, and I’ll thank ye not to be so sweet and pleasant around me.”
Stanton pressed his lips into a flat line, fighting off a grin as Creed cast him a long glance. Now was not the time to laugh at her unless he wanted to end up missing an eye.
Stanton knew that; he’d spent the past nine months with a pregnant woman of his own. “My wife was wondering if you would sit with her today,” he asked. “She is bored to tears lying in bed all day awaiting the birth of our child.”
Carington nodded. “I know,” she lost some of her pout. “Tell her I’ll join her for the nooning meal. I’ll sit with her a while.”
“Thank you,” Stanton replied sincerely. “She will look forward to it.”
Carington stopped him before he could move away. “What of yer son? Will ye need me to tend him while she sleeps?”
He shook his head. “Your offer is most gracious but Lady Julia is tending him today.”
Carington just nodded, watching him stroll off across the compound. She shook her head as they entered the armory tower.
“Stanton’s wife is enormous,” she remarked. “She looks to be birthing a small city any day now.”
Creed did not comment one way or the other; anything he said could be misconstrued as a personal insult or slander, no matter how innocent. As quick to temper as Carington had been before her pregnancy, it was double now and growing worse. So he mounted the spiral stairs in silence, helping her up behind him, until he came to the second floor room that held most of the fine armor. He sat Carington in the corner and began dressing himself. He was about a quarter of the way through when his tall blond squire suddenly joined them.
Carington held her legs up and out of the way as James went to work slapping greaves on his master’s shins. The boy moved quickly and efficiently.
“How did ye know he was here?” she teased him gently. “Ye must have eyes and ears everywhere.”
The lad blushed furiously; he and the lady had gotten to know each other when Creed had taken Ryton’s body back to Throston Castle for burial. Over miles of travel, they had ended up talking to pass the time and genuinely liked one another. While Creed dealt with his aged father’s grief, James had kept company with Lady de Reyne in his lord’s stead and the two had developed a bond.
“I must have eyes and ears everywhere, my lady, or Sir Creed will have my hide,” he replied.
Carington laughed softly, gazing up at her husband. He merely wriggled his eyebrows.
“He’ll not touch ye,” she told the lad firmly. “I would not allow it.”
