A Bit of Heaven on Earth by Lauren Linwood Page B

was. She deserved to keep it. Damn the silly rules that would not allow a woman to be awarded an estate upon her husband’s death.
    Still, no sense in dwelling on the matter. Their people awaited them. Rulings needed to be issued. Disputes must be settled. And afterward they would feast. She’d hired a new troubadour to sing of Aldred’s exploits, hoping to cheer him.
    Elizabeth swore to enjoy one day at a time. For as many as were left.
    Gavin approached Kentwood, hoping to make a better impression than he had at Ashgrove. He was still thinner than before his imprisonment but not as bedraggled as a few months ago. He now wore clothes instead of rags, though their fit left something to be desired.
    He was cleaner now, too, things he hadn’t thought of as he’d urged his tired body homeward two weeks before. He’d taken time to stop and bathe in the cold waters of a nearby river. With some of his money, he’d purchased a razor and was clean-shaven again. The knots were long gone from his hair, which was neatly trimmed. His fatigue lessened each day and his strength grew as he ate better. Making the long journey on horseback was much easier on his body than his trip from London north to Ashgrove.
    He wanted to look the best he possibly could before Aldred. He hadn’t seen the warrior in years, not since Crecy over half a score ago. As Kentwood came into his sight, he realized how much he’d missed Aldred and all those at his large estate.
    He believed the nobleman would give him a home for now. He would ask to be attached to Aldred’s guard, if possible, or even to Robert’s household, which he knew lay nearby. Or would Aldred advise him to play the knight-errant, seeking adventure and fortune as he went? He had entertained thoughts of returning to the war in France, if nothing else materialized, though he loathed the thought of being on French soil again.
    In his highest hopes, Gavin wished Aldred’s connections would allow him a place in King Edward’s retinue. He would give his life for his king and had the skills to protect him in any circumstance if Edward would consider him to become a part of his royal guard.
    His determination to go on, though, drove his every thought, much as it had during his imprisonment in France. Anything would be better than living in that cramped cell with the dying all about him. Their pitiful cries still haunted his dreams.
    As Gavin moved closer to his destination, he saw the gates opened wide. He stroked Homer’s head absently as he rode on, shaking the nightmare images of the prison cell from his head.
    “’Tis judgment day,” he told the kitten, who gnawed playfully on his finger.
    He climbed from his horse and walked it up to the portal. Gavin spied a now gray-haired Rufus and called out a greeting. The burly soldier hurried over to him, surprise written across his face.
    “Captain of the guard, Rufus. I am impressed with your accomplishments.”
    Rufus slapped him on the back. “Why if ‘tis not Lord Gavin. Come home from the wars in France, I dare say.” He pumped Gavin’s hand enthusiastically as he studied him. Gavin saw the look of concern flicker across the soldier’s features.
    “And how are you, old friend? Was the fighting so terrible? ‘Tis reed-thin and pale you are, my lord.”
    “I’ve been better, Rufus, but ‘tis good to be home on English soil once more.”
    The soldier smiled broadly. “I still remember you as a lad at Crecy. You showed such bravery. Oh, my Lord Aldred will be happy to see you at his table tonight. ‘Tis like the Prodigal Son, returning home to Kentwood again.”
    He laughed. “But I am neither son nor have I misspent my youth, Captain.”
    “Nevertheless, his lordship would want a fatted calf killed in your honor if a feast ‘tweren’t already planned.”
    Gavin cocked his head. “And what celebration occurs today?”
    “’Tis custom, sir. Lady Elizabeth started it. After each judgment day, all are welcome for a