21
~ Cold as The Grave ~
Rumple sipped from his goblet of sweet mulled wine while perusing the parchment in front of him. As a crown attorney, he'd drawn up many a betrothal contract, but he knew this would be more complicated. But he was determined to do right for both Bae and Emma to ensure their future and freedom was secure.
"Regina's explained that Emma won't be taking the throne unless Henry or Danielle die without issue," David began then shook his head. "Dammit, I hate talking formally!"
"Shall we dispense with formality then, dearie, and speak plainly?" queried the Earl.
"Fine with me. Your boy walks into the marriage with what he earns. No riding on my daughter's coattails."
"Bae doesn't need your patronage, Highness. He's my heir and inherits my major holdings as well as what he makes as an officer."
"But you can't fault me for making that clear."
"No. But let me make this clear. My son will not be used as a pawn in any political royal agenda. He will be free to follow his own path, whether or not it agrees with current agenda." Rumple dictated sternly.
"He won't be. The king wanted to marry Snow off to some of the biggest fops in the land but Regina wouldn't have it. Now I never met Leopold but he stuck to tradition...arranged matches...his first wife was an arranged match too and thankfully they grew to love each other but the idea of someone deciding who was going to be my wife then spending the rest of it with that person if we didn't get along..." David shook his head. "I don't call that marriage."
"Neither do I. My father tried to arrange one with me, but I refused, which was why I was sent to the academy." Rumple sighed. "My papa was not happy, he wanted the alliance of a minor Baron, but I couldn't see myself shackled to a woman who married me for nothing more than my money and whom I felt nothing but a lukewarm friendship. Papa beat me and threatened to disown me, but nothing he did would have made me make a match like my parents."
"Emma and your boy seem to get along fine. But I know there'll be a few bold bucks at court that will try to chase her. They did when I was courting Snow."
"Bae will set them straight," predicted Rumple.
"Bae will be permitted to come here or to our house in the country to see her...with a proper chaperone until they're married. And they will be watched at Rose Heart?"
"By me, my wife, and my staff. I raised my son to know how to behave, which means keeping a girl's reputation pure and respecting her and the sanctity of marriage. My father, both during and after his marriage, had mistresses. I hated it and I made sure Bae understood how wrong I felt it was."
"I'd geld any man that cuckolded my daughter!" David hissed.
"You'd have to stand in line then. Any son of mine who so disgraced himself would have his hide removed by me," Rumple said icily.
"Good to know we're in agreement. Everything here looks fine to me and I'm hoping we'll see this contract through to a wedding and then celebrate the coming of the grandchildren!"
"I agree. I want both of them happy. That's what I've always wanted for my children."
"And we can spoil them rotten then send 'em home!" David laughed. "It's what Regina does with Neal!"
"Belle would agree with that," Rumple's eyes twinkled. "We're due to have another wee one soon, and I'll be busy raising her or him. So they'll grow up together."
David picked up the quill and signed his name. "Let's tell the ladies we both went for the jugular. Gotta keep up appearances."
"Deal, dearie." Rumple signed with a flourish.
"We'd better go join them before they send in the guards!"
"Aye. Belle's imagination sometimes gets the best of her," Rumple joked. He pressed his new seal to the document, which was a crescent moon next to a rampant unicorn.
As if on cue Neal poked his head in. "Papa, better hurry up or Mama said she's gonna get a net and put you up in a tree!"
He groaned. "Ah, that again! All right we're coming!"
Rumple looked curious. "I'm surprised Relia isn't here telling me her mother's going to send in an assistant."
He found his daughter and her betrothed standing out in the hallway, identical scowls on their faces. "Papa, you're any later and it'll be time for bed!"
"A proper contract takes time, little lassie," her father told her. "But 'tis all ironed out now, so quit scowling, Relia."
"But Mama is getting impatient and you know how she gets!"
"All right, dearie," Rumple giggled.
He followed his daughter back to the great hall.
The guest of honor was terrified seeing so many familiar faces amongst the spectators, victims of the Jolly Roger Gang's many thefts. Several of the women glared at her and there was one man in the crowd leering at her.
Quentin Collins, having just arrived with his family recognized the man immediately. "Gerard! Quit staring! She's too young for you!"
Gerard Stiles laughed and clapped his old friend on the back. "Quentin! Who is this goddess you have on your arm?"
"Ruby," Ruby answered icily, the scent surrounding this man disturbing her. He reeked of death yet was very much alive. She found it odd that Quentin couldn't smell it.
He held out his hand. "Gerard Stiles." Ruby could feel the ice in the man's grip, shaking his hand briefly.
"How do you and Quentin know each other?" she queried.
"From university. I've just returned from a trip where I discovered a rather interesting artifact. A skull."
Quentin flinched. "A skull? What kind of skull?"
"Oh it was supposed to have belonged to some magician. Can't remember the name. It was quite a find. Come round the house and I'll show you it and the hand-"
"Hand? What hand?" Quentin demanded. "Gerard if that hand belongs to...HIM get rid of it!"
"Oh they're just bones. What harm can they do?"
"Plenty!" Ruby hissed, well aware that Quentin's lycanthropy was the result of a curse placed on him by a man who dabbled in the dark arts.
"Get rid of them, Gerard, or you reap what you sow," Quentin warned, taking Ruby's arm and leading her away.
But the man occupying the body of Gerard Stiles had no intention of disposing of the two body parts, not when one of them belonged to him and the other was taken as payment for a novice magician attempting to best his master. It was something he wished he'd dine with Miranda DuVal.
And on this night he intended to have his final revenge against the families that sent him to the fires all those years ago. There were quite a few of those descendants in the room, the most important ones being the royal family, the newly elevated Earl of Avalon and the appalling Collins clan.
He decided it was time to give the new earl a bit of a history lesson.
"My lord Earl! May I be the first to congratulate you on your elevation!" Gerard said when he approached Rumple and Belle.
"I'm sorry. I don't believe we've met," Rumple said cordially and shook the man's hand finding it odd that it was ice cold in the well heated ballroom.
"Stiles, Gerard Stiles. I'm a friend of the Collins family and a bit of a historian. I just returned from a rather fascinating tour of the site of a witchcraft trial that took place some time ago. I believe one of your ancestors was a judge on the panel."
"I don't recall any of my ancestors participating in witchcraft proceedings."
"They may not have mentioned it but the resemblance between you is remarkable."
"You must be mistaking me for someone else."
"Will you be participating in Miss Bouchard's trial?"
"Only as a witness. Reverend Trask is acting as prosecutor."
Belle frowned. She had difficulty trying to understand what this stranger's purpose seemed to be with talk of witchcraft.
Judah was not in the least bit surprised that Gold was unaware of his ancestor's role in his demise but he would learn soon enough how high the price would be for his ignorance.
A life for a life.
And the life he would destroy slumbered in the womb of his enemy's precious wife, a wife that would then be his.
Gold felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. There was something about this man that warned of danger, it was the same feeling that those who murdered innocents gave off-cold, deadly, and patient. Beware, for the cobra has come among you, a small still voice whispered.
Yes, there was something unnatural about Stiles, the attorney mused. Though not a mage, Rumple had learned to recognize magic in others, and this man reeked of it-like rotten mold in the corners of a cellar.
Belle gripped his arm tightly.
His intuitive wife also sensed something amiss. He sent her a reassuring glance. So you feel it too, mo cridhe.
"Rumple, I think Bae is calling for us," she said.
"If you'll excuse us, Stiles. We can discuss such matters at a later time," Rumple said smoothly, his tone cordially dismissive.
"Of course. My apologies."
He glared at their backs. "You won't dismiss me so easily the next time!" he muttered.
"That man gave me the chills, Rumple. Why was he so insistent that your ancestors were involved in a witchcraft trial?"
"I'm not sure, Belle, but there was something off about him. An aura of evil I've not felt since Nottingham and Hook."
"We should talk to the Queen or even Bonnie. They might be able to tell us more about him."
At the other end of the room Bonnie was experiencing the same sensations. Her hands cradled her belly protectively.
"Mama, do you sense...?"
Galena nodded. "I do. We must keep alert my daughter. I may not have my magic any longer but I still can sense the presence of evil."
Archie put his arm around Bonnie's shoulders. "Galena, what do we do?"
"We do nothing at the moment, only observe. This presence...I've sensed it before and if it is whom I believe it is there are many families here in danger, especially the royal family and the Golds."
"Why?"
"Rumple is not aware of it but many years ago one of his ancestors presided over the panel that condemned the worst of the rogue mages to the flames; Judah Zachary. It is rumored that he bartered his soul to the dark gods to be reborn and take his revenge against his enemies." She shivered. "One of them...removed his head as a trophy before he burned."
"What madness!" Archie exclaimed. "Who..."
Galena glanced over to where the Collins family stood. "Amadeus Collins."
"Her Highness, Princess Emma!"
All eyes turned to the grand staircase where Emma stood with her parents on one side and Bae on the other holding her hand.
"Well, my wild swan, ready to meet your public?" he teased.
"As ready as I'm gonna get," she murmured.
Everyone cheered as the young couple descended the staircase, some of the younger men in the room unable to disguise their envy of the newly created Lord Gold.
"Her Highness's betrothed, Lord Baelfire Gold of the House of Avalon!"
"Why should HE get to marry her? I was born in a noble house! He was just given it!" one of the boys scoffed.
"I heard she ran with pirates and is probably with child," his mother said bitterly.
"Hush!" her husband scolded.
"Play!" Regina instructed. "The princess and her betrothed will have the first dance of the evening!"
Bae bowed and held out his hand. "May I have this dance, Your Highness?"
"Call me that again and I'll shove you in the lake!" she threatened with a laugh.
"Well...we are at court..."
"I don't care," she said defiantly. "I'm not putting on airs, Bae, and they'll just have to get used to it."
"They will, but like my mama always told me, hold your head up, remember your manners, and no one can embarrass you without your consent. I know you feel like a fish out of water, so do I." They began to revolve to the music. "I've made plenty of enemies of bitter nobles just because the queen showed my family her favor."
"I want to spend time with my family...get to know them but...with you and your family...that's where I can be myself...and no one will judge me harshly for it."
"No Because we know the most important thing is to be true to who you are, not what everyone else claims you ought to be. Papa says you'll break yourself into pieces like straw in a windstorm if you try to make yourself into something you're not. And he ought to know, because for years he did that with my grandsire, and all it gained him was misery and heartache. It took my mama to mend him and show him true beauty lies within, and is of the soul."
"I don't know what I'll do to keep from going crazy once you're in the academy!"
"Write me. And find a skill you want to learn well. Papa says work makes time go faster." He smiled shyly. "But never forget, my heart is in your keeping and with you always."
"Maybe I should study law too." She grinned. "And arrest criminals like Hook myself."
She frowned at the card around her wrist. "I didn't mind sharing dances at your father's ball...everyone knew me there but all these strangers..."
"You'll be fine, wild swan. They see the lost fledgling come home and now the royal flock is complete. They won't dare shun you or mock you. Not if they want to keep living. So just go out and have fun. And try not to plot murder when you see me dancing with other noble ladies. I can't avoid it now I'm one of them."
"Well don't dance with them too long!"
"Only for one dance. For propriety's sake." He chuckled. "Least these court masques are good to practice my dancing."
She saw a line forming with men eager to dance with her, Lord Chesterfield, Archie Hopper and Rumple among them.
"At least you'll get to dance with Luci, Bonnie and your mama before the bloodhounds move in."
"Yes, thank the gods for that. There's a blond in a sky blue dress that's been looking at me like she caught me starkers for the past ten minutes," he coughed.
"I'll scratch her eyes out!"
"Too messy. Just find out who she is and arrange for her to meet some other guy, preferably one with less brains than money." He squeezed her hand reassuringly. "You know that with this betrothal contract we're pretty much married, don't you? Save for the formalities. They know it too, so don't let them bait you, Em."
"Oh I won't," she vowed. "But...if you step on that tart's toes..."
"It'll be a fortunate accident," Bae giggled wickedly.
"I can't wait."
They heard Karl clear his throat.
"It looks like I'd better let you go dance with the other women, Bae...but you WILL dance the last dance with me, princess."
"Of course she will, Uncle Karl. Only relatives can dance twice with a lady, right, Aunt Luci?" Bae exchanged partners with Karl smoothly, as if he'd been doing it all along. He now bowed to the new Lady Chesterfield. "My lady."
He was extremely grateful for Luci teaching him the court dances, so he didn't look quite the country cousin he felt.
"I'm sorry Karl and I haven't been around...we wanted to have a bit of a honeymoon first." She laughed. "And in a few years we intend to have a proper wedding ceremony, not a rushed affair while your uncle was still recovering from his wounds!"
"I understand, Aunt. But the important thing is you're married and happy and your future secure as mistress of Chesterfield. And Samuel is the heir."
"We are happy, happier than we've been in years."
"Then that's what matters, as Mama would say."
"I still can't believe it...our wild swan is a lost princess," Karl joked.
"I still have trouble believing it myself," Emma admitted.
"Court life can be a bore. Trust me. Follow your mother's example and live in the country."
"I intend to. Life among these preening peacocks doesn't appeal to me."
Despite the riches and glamour, Emma longed for the quiet comfort of Rose Heart.
Karl bowed and kissed her hand. "I must take my leave but I leave you in good hands." He smiled at Archie.
"We meet again, Mr .Hopper," Emma greeted.
"Your Highness." He bowed gracefully.
"To you I'm Emma," she corrected. She could be the princess to the court but never to those who had known her before.
"Emma it is then." He looked around. "I've never been comfortable at these court gatherings yet my parents wanted me to come with them when they presented new items to the Queen." He laughed. "Bonnie and I would sneak away sometimes to dance in the courtyard."
"Was that how you met her?"
"She used to come in to the shop and we became friends first. But I knew I loved her after that first time we snuck away to dance in the courtyard."
"Just like I knew I loved Bae after that snowball fight." Recalling their impromptu kiss made her blush with longing.
"It's not always easy to admit our feelings but if you don't you risk losing what could be the love of your life."
"You're right. And I don't wish to spend the rest of my life trying to find the one that slipped through my fingers."
She thought about how fortunate had conspired with fate to allow Mr. Gold to see someone besides an irredeemable thief in that jail cell and bring her home for the holidays. As she did so, the dance ended, and Archie bowed and said, "Avalon, your servant, sir."
Rumple raised an eyebrow. "Archie, for God's sake! Not you too!"
"You're a peer of the realm now, my Lord. And the highest in it save for the royals."
Rumple sighed. "Legal claptrap. But in private I'm Rumple, Hopper. Clear?"
"All right then!" Archie chuckled.
Rumple bowed to Emma. "May I, princess?"
"You may, Mr. Gold. . . I mean my Lord . . . oh hang it all!" She sputtered. "Let's dance and pray I remember all the steps you taught me."
"Relax, dearie," he soothed. "Pretend we're back in my study at Rose Heart."
She did so and found her butterflies had fallen asleep, and her feet followed her teacher's without hesitation. "Did you know, Rumple, that the queen would reward you like that?"
"I expected some kind of reward, money perhaps, but becoming Earl of Avalon, never. But I can't very well give it back so this country attorney will learn to be a Lord. Eventually. Rather like a certain princess."
"Rumple, I'm afraid." Emma whispered.
"So am I. But we'll come out all right in the end. And if this gets to be too much we can run away to Rose Heart and become hermits," he giggled.
"I'd love that. I want to be there when your baby gets born."
"Well, you've got a few months still, but I don't see why not."
"Good. I'd rather be there than dancing with sly Lords."
"Too true, dearie. Rose Heart will ever be my refuge, despite my new inheritance."
He had inherited two additional manors, one of them the ancestral seat, was a castle in the mountains. The other was a seaside home.
"Good luck, sir."
"The same to you, my wild swan," he said tenderly. "Rose Heart shall always welcome you. As will I."
Emma sighed with relief. It was a great comfort to know that some things would never change, despite her true identity.
Gerard Stiles waited impatiently for his moment to dance with the beautiful young princess.
Rumple lowered his voice as they twirled into the last turn. "A bit of advice. That fellow there is not to be trusted. Go nowhere alone with him and heed naught he says for he lies like the devil."
"Ummm...can I refuse to dance with him?"
"You could, but best to not show you are aware of him. He's vindictive. Treat dancing with him like enduring a whipping. The sooner it's over the better."
He made a mental note to maneuver David into cutting in early, because Stiles would have to give way to her father and prince.
Emma suppressed a shudder as the set ended. Stiles, though handsome, made her flesh crawl.
"Ah at last I get to dance with our princess," Stiles raised her hand to his cold lips and kissed it.
Emma barely refrained from pulling her hand away. "A pleasure, sir," she said with a false grin.
His lips are like ice! Like a corpse, she thought in disgust. What sort of man has lips like that?
She forced herself to hide her instinctive loathing, much as she had from certain members of the Jolly Rogers, like Barbossa. She vowed to dance once with this odious person and then invent excuses to keep him at a distance.
"The pleasure is all mine," Stiles purred, then placed an arm around her waist.
Emma felt ice skitter down her spine. It was warm in the ballroom, yet Stiles made her feel like she was in a blizzard.
Across the room, Bae lifted his head to glare daggers at Emma's partner, even as he murmured platitudes to his own. Whoever that man was he raised his hackles the way a jackal did to a wolf, and Bae nearly forgot his manners and strode over to them to yank the other away. Only his training kept him from causing a commotion.
Fortunately, luck was on his side and Emma's father chose at that moment to intervene.
"Lord Stiles, forgive me but I believe my daughter owes me a dance."
Stiles stiffened. "Of course Your Highness," he mumbled. "Perhaps we will have an opportunity to dance again."
"Perhaps," Emma responded cordially. Not if I can help it! she thought.
Stiles walked away fuming.
"Papa, you have no idea how relieved I am to see you!" she cried.
"That fellow seems odd to me too," he said. "I will be asking Regina and Henry about him."
"Papa...you're gonna think me strange but he...he reminds me of a corpse!"
"Well he's not going to do anything to hurt you. I'll make sure of that!" he vowed. "I just wish...I'd fought harder the night you were taken."
"What do you mean?"
"We were attacked that night, your mama and me...someone came to our room and tried to kill us. I fought them off as much as I could but I was wounded. Your mama got away but by the time she reached Regina you were already gone."
"You fought as hard as you could, Papa. I know firsthand how ruthless those men can be but they'll all hang soon enough."
He pulled her closer to him. "I'm never gonna be too far from you again."
Out of the corner of her eye she could see the girl in the blue dress dancing with Bae. Her betrothed was making a valiant effort to be a gentleman but the girl was making no effort to be a proper lady.
"Oooooh that tart! If the bodice of that dress goes any lower we'll be getting a sight we shouldn't! I want to scratch her eyes out, I want to..."
David chuckled. "You sound like your mama. There's no mercy from her when she's in a snit."
"Well I won't have these so called ladies pawing MY betrothed. They can find ones of their own!"
Gerard Stiles was still furious when he left the palace and returned to his estate.
"It must be done tonight," he heard a menacing voice echo in the study and turned to face the skull locked inside a glass display case above the fireplace. "Bring the girl and the woman here and prepare the altar in the garden."
"Yes Master."
Judah relished the bloodshed to come.
Silver Falls
Jail cell:
"Do you have any last words or regrets for the life you have lived?" queried the young priest of the Lord and Lady of Light. As was the custom, he had come to see if any of the condemned pirates, including Milah, wished to receive absolution before their execution.
Hook and the others sneered at the young man with his neatly barbered hair and simple navy-blue robes with the high collar and insignia of the eternal flame and circle upon his medallion and left breast.
'Go away, priest! We have no regrets-we lived as we chose!"
"Aye! Better a short life and a merry one than a long one bored to death!"
The priest, called MacKiernan, frowned in disapproval. "Not even you, ma'am?"
"The only regret I have, cleric, is that I slept with His High an' Mighty self yonder!" she hooted, pointing to Hook. "Might have gotten a better lay elsewhere!"
The other pirates clapped and cheered at her sally while Hook scowled.
Mac-as his friends called him-frowned in disapproval. "You truly don't care that you hurt people with your crimes? How about your son? Have you no words of farewell for him?"
"My son is a yellow dog coward and the only thing I wish is that he were man enough to hang like the rest of us!" Milah snapped.
Mac looked horrified. "You-I can't-you are unnatural, ma'am, to so wish a child to that fate!"
"What did you expect, priest?" Milah growled. "Tears and fond farewells? My boy betrayed us all-I'll not have anything to give him save this!" And she spat at Mac's feet. "You wanna pass that on?"
The young man flushed. "Unnatural trull!" he shot back.
Milah sashayed up to the bars. "Ya look like ya haven't had a good romp in the hay in awhile, preacher boy? Or don't they allow that kinda thing in the church nowadays?"
The other pirates roared in amusement as the young cleric turned redder than a radish in the sun.
He stiffened and said coldly. "You are impertinent and I most heartily reject your crude offer, madame! I have no wish to come down with the pox. I pity your child-having to live down the reputation of both parents. But I pray he finds peace, enlightenment, and happiness. May the gods have mercy upon you." Making the sign of the cross and circle, he spun about and stalked from the jail amid the catcalls of the prisoners.
Once the priest had left, the deputies came in and reattached the shackles to everyone's wrists and ankles, then led them out by several short chains to where the scaffold had been erected in the town square.
Such an event had not occurred in sleepy silent Silver Falls in living memory. Scores of townsfolk lined the streets, shouting and booing the pirates as they were led down the street. Apple cores and rotten eggs along with other refuse was flung at the pirates.
A fish head smacked Hook in the face.
A rotten tomato splattered Milah, while a cucumber smashed Liam in the eye.
The scaffold was built to hang ten pirates at once, and one by one they were led to their doom, hooded and with ropes about their necks. The hangman went down the line, tightening nooses and whispering, "Forgive me, I am the law's humble servant." This request was always made before each execution. It was also why the executioner wore a mask, for death was anonymous, and so no one saw his face and tried to exact revenge.
"Any last words?"
"I will have my revenge from the grave!" Hook cried.
Part of him was still in denial that he was going to die-despite the hemp about his neck and the hood over his face.
Yet his initial bravado was short-lived as he heard the drumroll commence. When the drums ceased, the trap doors would be opened and he would die. Beneath the hood sweat dripped down his face and into his beard.
Fear seized his limbs and had he been able to he would have fled.
He had never expected to end this way-with humiliation and defeat. It never occurred to him to ask why.
The drums rose to a crescendo, along with all the epithets the crowd hurled.
Finally all ten spots were filled. Hook clawed at his hood, suddenly desperate to see the sun. "Please . .. ! Please . . ."
In the judge's house not far from the square, kind Mrs. MacLean set out some tea and blueberry scones. "Here you are, Davy."
As he took a treat, the child asked, "What's that sound, ma'am?"
Mr. MacLean put an arm around him. 'That, dear one, is the sound of justice getting dispensed. When the drums stop . . . the hanging will commence."
Davy said nothing, for he didn't know what to say. He couldn't seem to muster up any feeling for his doomed parents. Instead he felt profoundly relieved. With both Killian and Milah gone he would finally be free of the pain and fear-free of the beatings and hunger and longing to be free.
The drums stopped.
The air crackled with a pregnant silence.
Up on the scaffold, Killian Jones, Liam Jones, Milah Jones, and the rest of the Jolly Roger Gang breathed their last, as the trapdoors opened.,
A great cry of satisfaction went up from the onlookers as the bodies dangled from the hemp ropes.
The dreadful Jolly Rogers were no more.
.
And Geppetto wiped his hand across his forehead and said a prayer of thanksgiving.
For now his parents' murdered spirits could at last rest in peace.
Justice's debt had been paid.
Back at the palace, newly made Countess Belle Gold had retired early from the festivities, citing her recent pregnancy as the reason for doing so. The celebration would go on till the wee hours of dawn, and Belle was not only weary from her journey but also from the stress and surprises of the day. Also, she was made to feel uncomfortable and frightened of Stiles. He roused her instincts to a fever pitch of nervousness, something which hadn't occurred since Gaston was attempting to court her over seventeen years ago.
Yet there was something eerie and sinister about the man she could not shake, despite the fact he had done nothing to her and acted with the utmost propriety.
Rumple, ever sensitive to his wife, had escorted her back to their suite, and stayed with her while she undressed, not bothering to summon a servant, he assisted her himself. Stiles had unnerved him also, and he discreetly summoned a few extra guards to watch the exits on the door and the balcony of their rooms.
"You'll be safe here, dearie," he reassured her. "I shall speak with Queen Regina and request she have magical wards posted as well."
"I'm sorry I'm being such a-worrywart, Rumple. But there is something . . . wrong with that man." Belle's hands twisted her nightie. "It's not something I can explain-just a feeling . . ."
"You don't need to," he soothed. "He makes me bristle like a hound scenting a rabid fox. But he shall not harm you, Belle. Not while there is breath in my body."
Rumple knew he ought to return to the party, but he was wary of leaving his pregnant wife alone in a strange place. He knew how easily it was to bribe and coerce servants and even men-at-arms to look the other way while someone slipped into a room or dropped a potion into a glass of wine, tea, or a plate of food.
Thus he resolved to stay with Belle, and sent a note to Regina explaining why. He also requested a personal taster for their food and drink, one the queen trusted. He would take no chances with the life of his wife and unborn baby.
"Rumple, aren't you going to return to the party?" Belle queried sleepily, slowly sipping some chamomile tea he had made for her from supplies they had brought.
"No. I'm staying right here,' he replied, sitting on the bed and stroking her chestnut tresses.
She smiled at him. "Rumple, you needn't stay . . . I'm perfectly safe . . . just tired . . ."
"There is nothing more important at the moment that I need to be attending to," he refuted firmly.
"But won't the queen be wondering . . .?"
"I have sent round a note explaining to Her Majesty what has happened. She will understand," he murmured, then began to undo the buttons on his waistcoat and place it upon the bench at the foot of the huge four poster bed, along with his jacket and cravet.
He secreted a long knife beneath the mattress where he could snatch it easily, and hung small strings of bells to the top of the door frame and windows to alert him in case an intruder attempted to get into the room while they slept.
Then he finished undressing, until he was clad only in nightshirt and robe. Whereupon he made himself a cup of tea and drank it lying next to his wife, one hand resting upon her stomach, and was rewarded with his child moving restlessly beneath his hand.
"The wee one is active tonight," he drawled.
"Yes. I suppose this baby is a night owl like his papa," Belle smiled.
"He? Might be a lass."
Belle shrugged. "I don't know for sure but . . . when I carried Bae he was restless too. Aurelia was calmer. Unless I was eating."
Rumple patted her middle. "I'm not gonna wager on this one, dearie. Whatever the goddess sees fit to send us is fine with me."
Belle nodded. She knew this baby would never replace those she lost, yet she couldn't help but wonder if this one was a son, like his previous siblings. The midwife seemed to think it possible from how she was carrying, though Belle knew such was often superstition and not a true indication of the sex of the child.
In truth, she had no preference. Son or daughter would be welcomed with joy, as the miracle it was. She leaned her head upon her husband's shoulder, drifting off to sleep with her hand entwined with his.