{"id":1153,"date":"2019-02-13T12:59:23","date_gmt":"2019-02-13T17:59:23","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/read.whitefire-publishing.com\/?p=1153"},"modified":"2020-07-28T17:48:29","modified_gmt":"2020-07-28T21:48:29","slug":"the-sound-of-emeralds","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/the-sound-of-emeralds\/","title":{"rendered":"The Sound of Emeralds"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<div class=\"wp-block-media-text alignwide\"><figure class=\"wp-block-media-text__media\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"500\" height=\"333\" src=\"http:\/\/read.whitefire-publishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/Divi_Feature_Images\/Sound-of-Emeralds.png\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-123\" srcset=\"https:\/\/readmedia.s3.amazonaws.com\/read\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/07\/23135706\/Sound-of-Emeralds.png 500w, https:\/\/readmedia.s3.amazonaws.com\/read\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/07\/23135706\/Sound-of-Emeralds-300x200.png 300w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 500px) 100vw, 500px\" \/><\/figure><div class=\"wp-block-media-text__content\">\n<h3 class=\"wp-block-heading\">The Sound of Emeralds<\/h3>\n\n\n\n<p>by&nbsp;<a href=\"https:\/\/www.whitefire-publishing.com\/authors\/rachelle-rea\/\">Rachelle Rea<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>What once was blazing hatred has turned to lasting love, but could the union of a wild heart with that of a lady ever result in more than heartache?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>With the help of an old friend with uncertain loyalties, Dirk inches ever closer to clearing his name. Gwyneth throws her faith into good tidings and the promise of a future as a family. But an old evil comes to call, just as tragedy rips apart a fledgeling truce. Enemies from the past and grief for the future threaten to tear asunder what God had brought together\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>As the date of Dirk\u2019s trial approaches, his fate and his <a class=\"wpil_keyword_link\" href=\"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/?s=family\" title=\"family\">family<\/a> hang in the balance. Will he be proven innocent of Gwyneth\u2019s parents\u2019 murders or separated from her forever? How much pain does it take to erode a love steadfast?<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n<div class='et-learn-more clearfix'>\n\t\t\t\t\t<h3 class='heading-more'>Chapter 1<span class='et_learnmore_arrow'><span><\/span><\/span><\/h3>\n\t\t\t\t\t<div class='learn-more-content'><h1 class=\"wp-block-heading\">Gwyneth<\/h1>\n\n\n\n<p><em>Godfrey Estate,\nNorthampton, England<\/em><em><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>19 January 1567<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Though ours was not the <a class=\"wpil_keyword_link\" href=\"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/a-closer-look-at-love-stories\/\" title=\"love story\">love story<\/a> I would have\nwritten for myself, I would not have had us any other way. For we were us, and\nthat was all that mattered anymore.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>That, and Dirk had married me the day before. Now in\nthe darkness of the night, I shifted up onto one elbow to better see him\nstanding in the doorway, his back to me. Someone at the bedchamber door held a\ncandle, its glow glinting off of Dirk\u2019s red curly hair. My whole heart smiled.\nThe sight of him, my husband\u2014Dirk Godfrey, the man who my soul held dearer than\nall others\u2014both calmed and awoke me. I strained to listen but could hear naught\nbut the men\u2019s rumbling voices trickling through our corner of Godfrey Estate\nand back to me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>He slowly closed the door, the shadows swallowing the\nsoft sound\u2014and I knew he meant not to awaken me. When he turned, I tried to\nread the breadth of his shoulders, the tilt of his head, the light in his brown\neyes. He noticed I no longer slept, came closer, and rested his fists on the\nbed by my side\u2014and I saw that something had snuffed out that light I loved so\nwell.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYou are beautiful.\u201d His words feathered across that\npart of my soul that was and always would be his alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>My mouth twitched, but a smile failed to form. How\ncould it when he looked so serious, so grave even as those loving words\ndeparted his lips? I slid a hand toward one of his and waited, determined to be\npatient, to resist the temptation to press for whatever darkened his look. Quite\nunlike my usual impetuousness. Pressing my gaze to his, I focused on naught but\nDirk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>One long moment passed, then another\u2026 and another. The\ndarkness breathed. The words balled in my chest constricted my ribcage and\nrefused to allow any air to enter my lungs. So I let them out at last. \u201cWhat is\nit?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I had expected to be able to draw a breath once the\nwords were free. But the air toyed with me and stayed just out of reach.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>His ruffled sigh fanned over me as he leaned forward\nto claim my lips with his own. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Sheer willpower enabled me to pull away with my hand\nto his bristly cheek. \u201cYou are keeping something from me.\u201d As he did too often.\nA prickle of unease shivered down my back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cCan I keep it from you a while longer?\u201d His low words\nmet my ear just as his lips met the skin beneath it. That was when I knew he\nwas protecting me from something. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>And my heart constricted all over again. \u201c<em>Nee.<\/em>\u201d I denied him in Dutch, the\nlanguage my <em>moeder<\/em> had taught me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>He put a few more inches between us. Even in the\ndimness of the new dawn, I detected that familiar wolfish grin stretching\nacross his face. That same grin he had given me time and time again, since I\nhad first entered his charge last summer when he had rescued me from the\nIconoclastic Fury rioting across the Dutch Low Countries. \u201cAre you certain,\nwife?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cDo not use that charming smile on me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI <em>only<\/em> use it on you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>He spoke truth. Even so, I raised a brow, moved up,\nand kissed him beneath the chin. His throat moved, and I knew he had given in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cAnders Revelin has returned,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I went still, sinking back down onto the blanket until\nall I could see were the dark shadows dancing across the ceiling. This was my\nwedding night, and Anders had interrupted my joy. The wince claimed my mouth before\nI could beckon it back. The man had once been my friend, a fellow Catholic in a\nProtestant land. He had been the one to take me to the ship that would carry me\nfrom England to the Dutch Low Countries. Then in recent months, he had betrayed\nme\u2014claimed to be assisting me in clearing Dirk\u2019s name of my parents\u2019 murders\nwhen in fact he was persuading neighboring nobles against him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Dirk joined me in the bed and encircled me then in\narms as strong as stone but so much gentler. I let him hold me, clinging to him\nin return, rejoicing in the fact that we need never be apart again. He was\nmine, and I was his. We were one. Forever. The thought soothed the tortured\npart of my soul ripped open anew at both Anders\u2019s leaving and his return.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>At one time, I had thought if I could just belong to\nDirk, all would be well. Yet here we were, wed and happy, but not without\nworry. And that worry bore a name I knew too well.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWhat do you think he wants?\u201d I whispered into the\nsilence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Dirk\u2019s shrug jostled me. \u201cI know not. What I do know\nis that I will never let him hurt you. Trust me on that.\u201d His embrace\ntightened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cDoes this mean we can stay?\u201d I knew Dirk\u2019s eagerness\nto be gone from Godfrey Estate had something to do with Anders\u2019s abrupt\ndisappearance. And that our plan to depart the day after our marriage commenced\u2014mere\nhours from now, in fact\u2014hinged on that very disappearance. Because we suspected\nAnders had left in order to inform others of Dirk\u2019s whereabouts. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWe will stay. The danger arrived with his leaving\u2014and\nit leaves with his reappearance.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I shifted to look at him. Even without my glasses, I\ncould see him well. I could always see him. The bristle across his jaw that he\nwould take a blade to upon the morrow\u2014or not. The strong brow that spoke of\nmuch concern for his family, for his new wife. The scar beside his right\neyebrow that held a story I still had not heard. Although usually impatient\nabout secrets, I knew the strangest peace about whatever that scar meant. No\nrestlessness beckoned me to ask Dirk about it. Mayhap that was the Spirit of\nGod holding me back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>But there was something I did want to know.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cDo you think Anders is a good man?\u201d Though this was\nour chamber and ours alone, still I whispered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Dirk\u2019s hand on my hair hesitated. \u201cDo you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Rolling my eyes at his evasion, I decided to answer.\n\u201cI cannot tell. He has stood in an older brother\u2019s stead for most of my life,\nyet he betrayed me when I believed I most needed him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>His eyes narrowed. \u201cHis leaving you to the Dutch Low\nCountries?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>&nbsp;I shook my\nhead. \u201cNot that. Never that. He turned his back on you, and that means he\nturned on me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cAh, Gwyn.\u201d He buried his face in my shoulder and kissed\nme again, giving me the sense he would rather not talk of this\u2014or aught else.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYou are a good man,\u201d I said when I could. He drew in\na breath, caught. Knowing where his haunted thoughts were leading him and\nwanting to stay them, I touched his shoulder. Warm skin corded with muscle met\nmy hand. \u201cNaught could convince me otherwise. You are.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>He pulled a shock of my hair over my face. \u201cPeople can\nbe both good and evil, Gwyn.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Content to hide behind the curtain of hair he had\ngiven me, I thought on that a moment. \u201cIs Anders more bad than good?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cNo more so than I.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Rearing out of his embrace, I flung my hair out of my face.\n\u201cYou are wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cIt is true.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>My head shook so violently my neck ached. \u201cTruth has\ncome to mean a lot to me\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI know it has.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201c\u2014and that is not it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>His arms wrapped around me once more, effectively\npulling me back down beside him. \u201cIf I am a good man, it is because you are the\ngood in me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Before I could even begin to think on what that meant,\nhe swooped down and kissed me. But before I kissed him back, I purposed to one\nday convince him of what I saw: he was a good man. Now to convince the world of\nthat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>He awakened me with yet another kiss, and my first\nthought was that I would never tire of them. My second thought was that he did\nnot need to know that, so I squirmed and made to roll to the side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>A chuckle rumbled into my ear as my face met his\nchest; I had rolled directly into his arms. The glare I gave him sobered him\nsomewhat, but still that grin I knew so well lingered on his lips. \u201cIt seems\nyou always find your way back to me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Turning away to hide my smile, I looked around; the\nlarge furniture, dark interior, and heavy curtains of a deep russet reminded me\nI slept in my husband\u2019s room now. The chamber I had shared just the night\nbefore with my friend and fellow escapee from the convent, Margried, was\nanother wing away entirely.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I turned to see my husband gazing at me with a mix of\nemotions in his eyes. Love. Wonder, as if he could not fathom I sat beside him\nin <em>his <\/em>bed in <em>his<\/em> chamber\u2014one I had\nnot visited before. Thus, my examining the interior a moment before. \u2019Twas a\ndark room for a man who had brought such light to my life\u2014the light of hope.\nTruth. I shook my head at the incongruity before studying him further. He did,\nhowever, have a past as dark as this chamber. A past that we even now sought to\nreclaim, for he had not murdered my parents, as all England believed he had. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cGood morrow, wife.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I smiled. \u201cNow that I have married you, do you think people will\nbelieve more readily that you are innocent of the crime I accused you of?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>He snorted. \u201cThose are your first words to me on the\nmorn after we are wed?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Leaning toward him, I whispered, \u201cGood morrow,\nhusband.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>It was a long moment before my mouth was free again to\nsay, \u201cTruth be told, my first words to you on this day were already spoken,\nduring the dark watches of the night.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>His hand moved from my hair to my shoulder. \u201cI had\nhoped mayhap you did not remember that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cHow could I forget?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>He nodded, and I knew the exact moment he let the\nburdens he bore land on his back once more. His brow hardened. The fire in his\neyes subsided to a subtle simmer. His lips descended to brush my cheek with a\nfeather-touch. As if to reassure me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>A painful ache demanded I reassure him in return, but\nhow? Confidence, that which I had known after he had shut the door hours ago on\nthe news that had shaken me, vanished just that quickly. I knew his wolfish\ngrin, the light in his eyes, his moods so well, but I knew not how to comfort\nhim now. I had the rest of my life to learn him, to know him\u2026. The shadowed\nthought came as a crow to a field: would I ever know?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>When he moved from the bed, I sank back against the\nwealth of pillows. Pushing away the stark question of a moment ago, my mind\ntossed instead with what he had told me all those hours ago. Anders had\nreturned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>But why? For what? <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I watched Dirk, his back to me, as he attempted to\nbutton his white cambric shirt with one hand while pulling back the curtain to\nthe west window with the other. Sliding from the bed, I tugged my night rail into\nplace until it whispered about my ankles. I stepped around my husband and\nfinished the buttons, letting my fingers linger. He covered my hand with his\nown and tore his gaze from the window. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Evading his gaze and the uncertainty in my own soul, I\npeeked at the view but saw naught. \u201cWhat worries you?\u201d I asked, when really I\nwished he would ask the same of me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>&nbsp;\u201cNaught in the\nworld worries me this day. This is the first day you are my wife, and I plan on\nspending every second with you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>My head tilted, torn between how lovely that sounded and\nwhat I knew he did not speak aloud. \u201cSomething does worry you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>He raised a brow and leaned in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>But I leaned back, stubborn, and rolled my eyes. \u201cMe.\nEither you worry you will not be able to spend every second of our first married\nday with me\u2014or you worry for my safety.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYou know me well.\u201d One hand still held mine captive\nat the opening of his shirt, but the other rose and cupped my shoulder. My\nstomach flipped at the dangerous look he was giving me, but my gaze darted to\nthe door. To the memory of him standing there and speaking softly to Cade. To\nwhat lay beyond it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I pulled away and ducked behind the dressing screen he\nmust have ordered brought in here. The presence of my trunk behind the screen\nconfirmed that fact. Popping it open, I breathed deeply of the lavender petals Alyce\nhad tucked within its folds.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Dirk called to me, \u201cShall I ring for food with which\nwe can break our fast? Alone?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I stilled, thinking. \u201cWe can go down.\u201d Realizing I had\nnever asked the question burning on my tongue, I finally emerged and froze. Dirk\nwas kneeling before the window, eyes closed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Time halted. Tears assaulted. My heart shivered. Emotions\nflickered across his face. Joy. Concern. Fear. And something that resembled\ngratitude. He was the handsomest man I had ever seen. Tears pooled in my eyes\nas I watched him give over to God all that lay on his heart. And I knew then in\nmine that I had indeed married a good man.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cGwyn?\u201d He smiled at me. What I had done was as good\nas eavesdropping, and Dirk was a private man. Would he be angry with me?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>He held out his hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I went to him, daring to hope that whatever we might face\nthis day and for the rest of our lives, we would face together, with the\nknowledge that God held us. I might not have even seen him in all seasons, a\nfull year, yet, but I knew this: he was teaching me how to be a woman of faith\nby being a man of faith. I wanted to show the world how very much a man of\nfaith he was.<em>An innocent one.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n<div data-block-name=\"woocommerce\/handpicked-products\" data-edit-mode=\"false\" data-products=\"[745]\" class=\"wc-block-grid wp-block-handpicked-products wp-block-woocommerce-handpicked-products wc-block-handpicked-products has-3-columns has-multiple-rows wp-block-woocommerce-handpicked-products\"><ul class=\"wc-block-grid__products\"><li class=\"wc-block-grid__product\">\n\t\t\t\t<a href=\"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/product\/the-sound-of-emeralds\/\" class=\"wc-block-grid__product-link\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\t<div class=\"wc-block-grid__product-image\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"300\" height=\"300\" src=\"https:\/\/readmedia.s3.amazonaws.com\/read\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/07\/23135706\/Sound-of-Emeralds-300x300.png\" class=\"attachment-woocommerce_thumbnail size-woocommerce_thumbnail\" alt=\"The Sound of Emeralds\" srcset=\"https:\/\/readmedia.s3.amazonaws.com\/read\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/07\/23135706\/Sound-of-Emeralds-300x300.png 300w, https:\/\/readmedia.s3.amazonaws.com\/read\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/07\/23135706\/Sound-of-Emeralds-150x150.png 150w, https:\/\/readmedia.s3.amazonaws.com\/read\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/07\/23135706\/Sound-of-Emeralds-100x100.png 100w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px\" \/><\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<div class=\"wc-block-grid__product-title\">The Sound of Emeralds<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/a>\n\t\t\t\t<div class=\"wc-block-grid__product-price price\"><span class=\"woocommerce-Price-amount amount\" aria-hidden=\"true\"><span class=\"woocommerce-Price-currencySymbol\">&#036;<\/span>9.99<\/span> <span aria-hidden=\"true\">&ndash;<\/span> <span class=\"woocommerce-Price-amount amount\" aria-hidden=\"true\"><span class=\"woocommerce-Price-currencySymbol\">&#036;<\/span>15.99<\/span><span class=\"screen-reader-text\">Price range: &#036;9.99 through &#036;15.99<\/span><\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t<div class=\"wp-block-button wc-block-grid__product-add-to-cart\"><a href=\"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/product\/the-sound-of-emeralds\/\" aria-label=\"Select options for &ldquo;The Sound of Emeralds&rdquo;\" data-quantity=\"1\" data-product_id=\"745\" data-product_sku=\"\" data-price=\"9.99\" rel=\"nofollow\" class=\"wp-block-button__link  add_to_cart_button\">Select options<\/a><\/div>\n\t\t\t<\/li><\/ul><\/div><\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\n\n\n<div class='et-learn-more clearfix'>\n\t\t\t\t\t<h3 class='heading-more'>Chapter 2<span class='et_learnmore_arrow'><span><\/span><\/span><\/h3>\n\t\t\t\t\t<div class='learn-more-content'><\/p>\n\n\n\n<h1 class=\"wp-block-heading\">Dirk<\/h1>\n\n\n\n<p>Together we descended the stairs, and I marveled at\nthe woman Gwyn was. So strong and sure in some ways, so vulnerable in others. I\nwalked into the Great Hall with her on my arm, having nearly forgotten Anders\nRevelin would be there. Nearly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>But he was, as Cade\u2019s midnight visit had proclaimed.\nThere, sitting at the table with my family, making my youngest sister, Susan,\nlaugh. She tilted her head toward him and the red hair we had both inherited\nfrom my mother glinted in the light of the morning sun streaming in through the\nGreat Hall windows. Beside her sat my mother and other younger sister,\nMillicent, both looking decidedly unamused.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Also looking unentertained were Cade and Ian, the\nfriends who had courageously accompanied me across the English Channel and to\nthe convent where we had rescued Gwyn, then-postulant Margried, and the nun\nAgnes. As Gwyn and I approached, my nose caught the scent of the morning\nrepast, not yet brought out by the servants. Eager to eat\u2014and ensure Gwyn sat\nfar from Revelin\u2014I led my wife to the head of the table, where she would sit to\nmy right, on the side of the table with my closest friends, on the opposite end\nfrom her once-friend.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>As I waited for her to sit, I raised my brows at Ian,\nsurprised he had in fact allowed Susan to sit beside Anders. He nodded,\nsilently saying he had tried. Of course, he and my sister were not outwardly\nromantically involved just yet. But by the way my mother often glanced between\nthose two, they might as well be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Silence swept over the table. Seated beside Gwyn,\nAgnes wore the wimple I had not seen her without since she had come with us\nfrom the convent. She looked decidedly sour.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Once again, our young charges Alfie and Titus did not\njoin us at the table. Titus had returned to Godfrey Estate with me after I had\ngone to see his father, Captain Tudder, at the coast. Tudder had given me\nresponsibility of his son when he went off to join the continued conflict in\nthe Dutch Low Countries. Alfie, a former stable boy, had come with Gwyn from\nher ancestral home, Barrington Manor. I imagined the two boys must be with\nJoseph, the converted monk I had brought with me from St. Benet\u2019s Abbey, with\nthe intention of having him perform our marriage ceremony. St. Benet\u2019s had once\nbeen a monastery, maintained now by Joseph.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Catholicism might yet be illegal in Elizabeth\u2019s\nEngland, but those who practiced became recusant, as Gwyn\u2019s family had done.\nThis was not the Dutch Low Countries, where the tension between Catholicism and\nProtestantism had resulted in riots last summer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Seated at the head of the table, I nodded, and at once\nthe servants sprang to action, passing plates, bowls, and platters of steaming bread,\nmeat, and dried fruit. The clink of knives and spoons joined the whispers of\nthe women.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Throughout it all, I trained my gaze on Revelin. He\nstared back. Only when he dropped his gaze first did I begin to eat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Gwyn laid her hand over mine, and I searched her face\nfor any sign of distress or concern. But the anxiety that had crossed her\nfeatures before she had ventured behind the screen earlier had vanished during\nour prayer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>If only what I was about to say\nwould not bring it roaring back, but I had to ask, \u201cWhat brings you back to Godfrey?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Revelin\u2019s gaze shot to me. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>My sister Susan\u2019s face paled. Ian looked for all the\nworld like he wished to reassure her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Revelin\u2019s deep breath expanded his chest. He was not a\nman of wiry build, but neither was he brawny. His ribcage deflated once more,\nand he shook blond hair out of his eyes before meeting my gaze again. Strange.\nHe had always maintained a meticulous appearance before. This morning, he would\nhave looked almost unkempt had not Ian been sitting beside him with a rat\u2019s\nnest atop his head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI owe everyone here an apology,\u201d Revelin said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Gwyn\u2019s hand tightened around mine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>His eyes moved to meet hers. \u201cEspecially you, Gwyneth.\nI hurt you, and I am deeply sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>That snort surely had not come from Margried. Cade,\nthe man she had loved last fall, turned to rest his watchful gaze on the former\npostulant.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Revelin either did not notice or care about the\nexchange. He cared only for Gwyn. \u201cI never meant to upset or betray you.\u201d <em>Betray.\n<\/em>The very word she had used to refer to his treatment of her\u2014of us both. \u201cWill\nyou accept my apology?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Without hesitation, Gwyn nodded. I wished she had not\ngiven in so easily. Then she said, \u201cAll of this could have been said in one\nshort letter.\u201d And I remembered the fire in the woman I had wed yesterday.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Anders swallowed. \u201cI wished to offer my apologies in\nperson.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWe thank you for your consideration, Anders.\u201d Gwyn\nsounded cold. \u201cBut I, too, am curious about why you returned. You obviously did\nso in a hurry.\u201d His appearance testified to that. \u201cAnd you are not the hurrying\nkind.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u2019Twas my goal to only be on the receiving end of her\nanger when absolutely necessary. I glanced down at her. Which, unfortunately,\nmight be often.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Revelin\u2019s gaze latched on Gwyn\u2019s as his voice\ndeepened. \u201cI wish to make amends.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I stiffened, sensing where this was going. Surely the\nman wouldn\u2019t\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYou are not usually such a wishing man, Anders,\u201d Gwyn\nprompted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Revelin\u2019s eyes moved to mine. In the dull light of the\nnew day breaking through the high windows, his expression swerved toward\nsincere. Too sincere, mayhap? \u201cWith your permission, Godfrey, I would like to\nstay on here and aid you in your quest to clear your name. I think together we\ncan see it through.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Ah. So he wanted in on the mission he had helped\nundermine. Before I had returned from the coast in the fall, Gwyn had enlisted\nAnders\u2019s help in clearing my name of her parents\u2019 murders\u2014a crime she herself\nhad first accused me of after catching me standing over their bodies. With a\nblade in my hand. Soon after my return, she had caught Anders lying to her:\ntelling her he was visiting neighboring nobles in order to gather their support\nso that we might have a case to present for my innocence. When in fact he was\nexplaining to England\u2019s nobility how I was not to be trusted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Lord Mauldin had been the noble to post a letter to\nGwyn that revealed Anders\u2019s scheme; Mauldin had been confused about why she had\nwritten him imploring him of my innocence when she had also sent Anders to\nspeak against me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I registered Gwyn\u2019s hand tightening around mine and\nknew what she wanted in this weighted moment between Anders\u2019s request and my\ndecision. She desired peace between the man she had called brother for a good\nmany years and the man she had called husband for a day. After strife and\nheartache, she desired calm. By grace alone, I squeezed her hand in return and\nnodded down the table toward Anders Revelin. His chest deflated again, this\ntime with a sigh of relief.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>God help me, I knew that relief of his was due to\nsomething far bigger than my consent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The next morn, I rose before the sun, anxious about\nRevelin again finding shelter within the Godfrey keep, and decided a walk might\nclear my head. That objective failed, but at the end I had a drooping bunch of\nnearly-dead blooms to show for my effort. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I laid them beside Gwyn, on the pillow from which I\nhad gazed at her half the night. The sun was just beginning to peek beyond the\ncurtains. Her face held that contented, lost look that I had memorized after so\nmany hours of searching it for the least sign of nightmare.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>She had not been terrorized by nightmares on the\nprevious night, our wedding night, either. <em>Dare I hope they are gone for\ngood, Lord?<\/em> Yet how could I even begin to think such a thing? For to do so\nwould attribute their leaving to my own presence, since they had been banished\nfrom her mind since the night before she became my wife.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>But how could I possibly hold the power to repel the\nterror she had suffered for as long as I had known her? The first time I had\nseen the discomfort on her face that testified to the terror\u2019s presence, we had\nbeen in the Dutch Low Countries. Ever since, I had wondered about the\nnightmares that plagued her. She still had not told me what they were about. I\nreached out a finger to smooth a wilted petal, and it detached from the stem.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>That petal in hand, I rounded the bed, put her back to\nme, and knelt on the floor. For a moment, I watched the sun patiently wind its\nway beneath the drawn curtains. Then I turned my gaze to the strands of golden\nhair flowing down her shoulders and back like a stream of honey. <em>My wife. <\/em>Such\na gift to me, a gift undeserved, a gift I determined I would cherish, protect. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>From nightmares both dreamt and waking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>For an hour or more, I stayed there by her side, my\nhands steepled, my head occasionally bent in prayer, other times lifted so I\ncould see the sun and beseech God. For the strength to be the husband she\nneeded; healing for the heart I knew must still be torn, no matter what the\nabsent nightmares might tempt me to believe; and for wisdom in how to go about\nthis mission to clear my name, the name I had given her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>She woke. Softly at first she stirred, her breathing\nbecoming a sigh. I wished I had stayed on the other side of the bed so I could\nwatch her face as she opened her eyes, but I did not wish to disturb her now\nand steal one moment of slumber. She had been sleep-deprived too long, suffering\nthe nightmares. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I knew the moment she saw the flowers before her face,\nfor she sat straight up in the bed. A grin stole across my face as I waited for\nher to turn and see me, find me kneeling there. Yet she remained frozen. So I\nstood and put a hand to her hair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Her head jerked to me. My grin died a painful death as\nI noted her white cheeks and wide eyes. \u201cWhat is it, Gwyn?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>She let out a strangled cry and scrambled close,\nwrapping both arms around my neck. I managed to catch my balance before we both\ntumbled to the floor, dropping the petal in my grip. My fingers smoothed the\nhair at the back of her head. My lips formed words of reassurance, sweet\nnonsense. Had the nightmares found her after all, while I had not been\nwatching?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI thought\u2026\u201d She pulled back and smiled softly. \u201cThe\nflowers\u2026\u201d She touched the scar at my right eyebrow. \u201cIt may take some time\u2026before\nwaking to find flowers no longer reminds me of the morn you left.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Of course. The morning I had left her to my mother\u2019s\ncare and taken off for the coast, I had brought her flowers. I closed my eyes\nand gathered her close again. Rising to my full height, I scooped her up,\nfreeing her completely from the confines of the covers. \u201cI shall just have to\nbring you flowers often then.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Her smile grew. \u201cThat might be difficult since it is\nnow winter, husband.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I raised my brows at her smug look. Her laughter\nfilled a place deep inside that I had not even known was empty, and I resolved\nto make her laugh more often. She gazed up at me, looking more like a little\ngirl than a woman grown, more a wisp of a thing than a wife. <em>Thank You,\nLord, for her.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI have one request,\u201d Gwyn whispered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYou have only to name it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Her look turned shy. \u201cYou can say no.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>That was new. \u201cTell me, and it shall be done,\nGwyneth-mine.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI want to go back to St. Benet\u2019s.\u201d<\/p><\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\n\n<div data-block-name=\"woocommerce\/handpicked-products\" data-edit-mode=\"false\" data-products=\"[745]\" class=\"wc-block-grid wp-block-handpicked-products wp-block-woocommerce-handpicked-products wc-block-handpicked-products has-3-columns has-multiple-rows wp-block-woocommerce-handpicked-products\"><ul class=\"wc-block-grid__products\"><li class=\"wc-block-grid__product\">\n\t\t\t\t<a href=\"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/product\/the-sound-of-emeralds\/\" class=\"wc-block-grid__product-link\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\t<div class=\"wc-block-grid__product-image\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"300\" height=\"300\" src=\"https:\/\/readmedia.s3.amazonaws.com\/read\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/07\/23135706\/Sound-of-Emeralds-300x300.png\" class=\"attachment-woocommerce_thumbnail size-woocommerce_thumbnail\" alt=\"The Sound of Emeralds\" srcset=\"https:\/\/readmedia.s3.amazonaws.com\/read\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/07\/23135706\/Sound-of-Emeralds-300x300.png 300w, https:\/\/readmedia.s3.amazonaws.com\/read\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/07\/23135706\/Sound-of-Emeralds-150x150.png 150w, https:\/\/readmedia.s3.amazonaws.com\/read\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/07\/23135706\/Sound-of-Emeralds-100x100.png 100w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px\" \/><\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<div class=\"wc-block-grid__product-title\">The Sound of Emeralds<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/a>\n\t\t\t\t<div class=\"wc-block-grid__product-price price\"><span class=\"woocommerce-Price-amount amount\" aria-hidden=\"true\"><span class=\"woocommerce-Price-currencySymbol\">&#036;<\/span>9.99<\/span> <span aria-hidden=\"true\">&ndash;<\/span> <span class=\"woocommerce-Price-amount amount\" aria-hidden=\"true\"><span class=\"woocommerce-Price-currencySymbol\">&#036;<\/span>15.99<\/span><span class=\"screen-reader-text\">Price range: &#036;9.99 through &#036;15.99<\/span><\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t<div class=\"wp-block-button wc-block-grid__product-add-to-cart\"><a href=\"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/product\/the-sound-of-emeralds\/\" aria-label=\"Select options for &ldquo;The Sound of Emeralds&rdquo;\" data-quantity=\"1\" data-product_id=\"745\" data-product_sku=\"\" data-price=\"9.99\" rel=\"nofollow\" class=\"wp-block-button__link  add_to_cart_button\">Select options<\/a><\/div>\n\t\t\t<\/li><\/ul><\/div>\n\n\n<p><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>The Sound of Emeralds by&nbsp;Rachelle Rea What once was blazing hatred has turned to lasting love, but could the union of a wild heart with that of a lady ever result in more than heartache? With the help of an old friend with uncertain loyalties, Dirk inches ever closer to clearing his name. Gwyneth throws [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":123,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"off","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[129,206,200],"tags":[157,164],"class_list":["post-1153","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-historical-fiction","category-romance-and-love-stories","category-suspenseful","tag-rachelle-rea","tag-steadfast-love-series"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1153","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1153"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1153\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4867,"href":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1153\/revisions\/4867"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/123"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1153"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1153"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1153"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}