He truly enjoyed these afternoons. In truth, the pain of Gavin’s absence was only tolerable with his wife in his arms. Life seemed only tolerable with Gwen. He wasn’t sure now how he’d lived without her before.

She still awoke early, and every morning they walked together before he joined his men. Anna had fashioned a lightweight cloak for her with wide sleeves, as it had already snowed several times. The garment, made to his specifications, allowed her to warm her hands against the cool morning air. And no matter how often he argued that she not go, her answer was always the same. She’d given up running during her pregnancy, but she’d be damned if she didn’t walk. Hard.

At first, he refused her any form of exercise, but her explanation stopped those arguments cold. Gwen told him that being in better physical shape would help with her labor, thus making her birthing easier. Of course, his fear of something happening to her in childbirth was so terrifying that he made sure she hadn’t missed a single day. On the occasions she was too tired to walk in the morning, he took her after supper.

Their afternoons, however, were never played with. Rather, they were never played with, until at last, one cold November afternoon, their prayers were finally answered.

Gwen had just entered his study when shouts were called from the courtyard. Gwen followed him as he walked to the front doors, and as he opened them, Duncan raced up the steps. “Gavin returns,” he cried. “He crossed the border hours ago. He’s but minutes behind.”

Greylen grabbed his man by the shoulders. “Did you speak to him?” he demanded, his heart pounding with joy.

“Nay, he rides alone, and his look, one of such seriousness, he only afforded a nod and regal sweep of hand to announce his presence.”

Greylen turned to his wife, his smile surely reflecting the joy he felt. “Wife, if you wish to greet our friend, fetch your cloak.” She was gone before he finished but back within minutes and standing by his side. He pulled her against him, knowing ’twas he who took comfort from her. Good God, his knees were weak. He squeezed her as his man rode between the gates. His heart pounded as Gavin stopped before nudging his mount forward again.

Gavin Montgomery of Lincolnshire brought his mount to a halt within the gates of Seagrave. It seemed forever had passed since he’d left this land, the land and family that meant more to him than life itself.

Each day he was gone, he prayed for Greylen’s life. His relief at hearing that Greylen had indeed recovered was so great he stopped at the first church that he came across. He lit a candle and sat alone in one of the pews where he silently wept.