by Lori Wick
“You’re doing fine,” Bracken told her, a smile in his voice.
They fell silent for a time; indeed, Bracken was nearly asleep when Megan spoke.
“I have news for you, Bracken.”
“Hmm?” Bracken murmured, thinking she could tell him the castle was under attack and he still wouldn’t be able to move.
“I am with child, Bracken.”
One second Megan was rubbing his back, and seemingly an instant later her head was on his pillow with Bracken bending over her, the candle held high so he could see her face.
“Is it true, Megan?” He felt as if he’d run for miles.
“Yes,” Megan said as she tried to see his face. “I waited to tell you because I felt a need to speak with Louisa. She confirmed my suspicions.”
“How long?”
“Just a month now. The baby won’t be born until December.” Bracken’s huge hand sought her stomach and spread over the fabric of her gown. Her abdomen was still flat, but it wasn’t hard to envision her swollen with his son. His eyes sought hers.
“Oh, Megan,” Bracken breathed. “Are you all right? Do you feel ill?”
Megan shook her head no and smiled. “I am a bit tender, but all else is well.”
Bracken’s look became almost fierce. “We will not lie together until after the child is born.”
Megan chuckled softly and her fingers stroked his beard. “Oh, yes, we will, Bracken. You are overreacting.”
Bracken captured the hand at his face and pressed a kiss to the palm. “We will turn your duties over to others,” he stated emphatically. “In fact, Louisa is already here, and we will simply ask her to stay until the child has come.”
Megan shook her head, and Bracken frowned. “That is out of the question, Bracken. A woman needs great strength to have a child. If I lie about until my pains begin, I will not have the endurance.”
Bracken sighed deeply. He wanted to coddle this woman, and she would have none of it. Indeed, she very logically destroyed all of his arguments. However, he was going to lay down the law on some things.
“Megan,” Bracken began, but the diminutive redhead cut him off.
“We can’t argue in this room, Bracken,” she took great delight in telling him.
“We’re not going to argue,” Bracken informed her. “I’m going to tell you a few facts, and you are going to listen and obey.”
“I’ll argue with everything you say,” she promised.
“Then we’ll go into your salon for this discussion.”
Megan feigned a huge yawn. “I’m much too tired to move,” she told him with a dramatic sigh.
Bracken tried to hide his smile but failed miserably. Megan grinned unrepentantly and spoke invitingly.
“Come, Bracken, lie down and put yours arms around me. I am weary, as are you. The entire castle will surely know of this news tomorrow, and we will both need our rest.”
Bracken could find no argument for that and did as Megan asked. Megan was asleep in less than a minute, but Bracken took some time. He was calmly going over in his mind all the changes he would lay out for Megan in the morning.
Bracken had searched for 20 minutes the next day before finding Megan in the creamery. She and Eddie were in close conversation, and he waited with barely concealed impatience for their conference to end. That Megan was very aware of his anxiety was quite apparent when she finally approached him and stood smiling up at him.
“Did you need something, Bracken?” she asked sweetly.
“We will talk, Megan,” he said, telling himself to stand firm.
“Of course, Bracken. I must go to the byre and then—”
“The war room. Now.”
“As I was saying,” Megan said swiftly, “the byre can wait.”
She sailed ahead of him, and the castle folk, who had heard the news just as Megan predicted, smiled as they watched them depart.
An hour later Bracken was finishing.
“Half of your duties will be delegated. It is still my desire that Louisa stay, but if you will not have that, then you will do as I ask.”
“But, Bracken, there is no purpose,” she tried one last time. “I am perfectly able to continue in all of my duties.”
“My mind is made up,” Bracken said, pinning her to the settee with his eyes. Megan sighed but did not comment.
“What goes on in that head of yours, Megan?”
The beautiful green eyes narrowed. “I was thinking that mayhap it’s time for Henry to call for you again.”
Bracken’s own gaze narrowed in order to cover the laughter lurking in the depths of his eyes. He slowly shook his head.
“I do not plan to let you out of my sight.”
Megan smiled then. She knew he had spoken out of concern for her, and, indeed, he was acting so adorably that she could hardly fault him.
A month later, Megan’s thoughts were not so benevolent. Bracken seemed to dog her every move, and there were days when Megan wanted to run and hide. When she thought she could stand it no longer, he seemed to ease up. Maybe it had taken that long for him to see that she was going to be fine. Whatever the reason, the duchess was thankful.
Megan would have been surprised to know that much of Bracken’s attention, and then the lack thereof, stemmed from the fact that he had just received word that Marigold was now back in France.
“Helga, what did that woman say to you?”
The faithful servant bit her lip, but she knew it was no use. When the Lady Megan used that tone, she could never deny her. The women were coming from the archery butts, where they’d been watching the men practice. Megan had noticed several women coming to speak with her personal maid. Helga seemed to grow more agitated with every step, and Megan had to question her.
“Helga?”
The older woman wrung her hands. “It’s just more of the same, my lady.”
Megan nodded and did not comment. For over a week now there had been news in both the keep and the village that Roland Kirkpatrick was back in the area. Word was out that he was still angry with Bracken over what had happened at King Henry’s court.
Megan had spoken with Bracken each time she became warned about the situation, and each time he had reassured her. But now her fears were returning. Telling herself she must try to reason with Bracken once more, Megan dismissed Helga and made her way toward the castle.
“Bracken,” Megan said to him as soon as she had found him in the war room. “There is more word from the village.”
“Megan,” Bracken replied patiently. He had been out earlier and heard the news as well. “Are you thinking about Roland Kirkpatrick again?”
“Yes, Bracken. Your lack of concern—”
“I am concerned,” Bracken cut her off, “but I’m not frightened as you seem to be. I will protect you. When I come face-to-face with the man, I will confront him.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about.”
“Megan,” Bracken stressed the words again. “Henry has given me leave to handle this as I see fit. I do not fear Roland or the situation.”
“What if he seeks you out first?”
“So be it. He’s not going to take me by surprise, Megan. I am able to deal with this.” There was amusement on his face as he spoke these last words, and Megan knew more frustration than ever.
His lack of concern was maddening to her. She wanted to stay with him in the war room until she had talked him into taking immediate action, but knew it was of little use.
“I think it’s time I make a visit to the village,” Megan said to Helga once she had gained her chamber.
Helga knew that tone and said in a voice breathless with fright, “Oh, my lady.”
“Not today,” Megan told her as if this would calm all of the servant’s fears. “Tomorrow, Helga, and I shall need my cloak.”
“What was Lady Megan about today?”
Bracken shook his head over Lyndon’s question. “I was not able to speak with her. I left word of our going with
Clive.”
Lyndon could see how this would be true. Bracken’s decision to go to the village had been rather sudden, and he had only planned to be gone for a portion of the day. Indeed, it was good to see Bracken relaxing again. Many in the keep had chuckled over his hennish care of Megan, but Lyndon knew that when God willed and his own Gabriella carried his child, he would be just the same.
Bracken, Lyndon, Arik, and Kendrick, along with several other knights, arrived in the village just before noon. They made their way to the pub, and after being served a noon meal of pork, coarse bread, and ale, began to listen and observe. It wasn’t long before they learned that Roland was out of the area that day. Bracken felt their trip had been a waste of time.
They were just leaving when Lyndon heard of a small fair going on at the other end of town. For amusement’s sake, they made their way in that direction. The first cart, filled with apples, was run by an old woman with a humpback and a filthy face. The men, all but Arik, sauntered past her without a second glance.
Bracken noticed the way the huge man stopped, but thinking he was in a mood merely left him and traveled on.
He learned little else about Roland that was new at the fair, but he was no longer sorry they had come. Bracken was well respected in the village, and this was proved to him by how many merchants approached and told what they knew. Some, he was sure, also did this for Kirkpatrick, but for the most part they were a loyal group.
The men made their way back out of the fair and met Arik at the edge. He was just as they’d left him, parked at the old woman’s stall, his arms folded across his broad chest.
“What troubles you, Arik?”
The giant did not answer or even look at him.
Bracken glanced around in frustration and then scowled at the old woman who let out a coarse bark of laughter over absolutely nothing. She didn’t seem to notice the look but pottered around in her shuffling gate, adjusting her fruit for better display.
“Arik,” Bracken went on patiently, “if you’ve news, tell me. If not, let us return to Hawkings Crest.”
Arik looked at him this time, staring down into his eyes silently before slowly shifting his gaze to the old woman.
Bracken was swift on the uptake, and he moved casually over to inspect her stand. She had little, but he wasn’t really concerned. He stood in front of her cart, and she stood at the rear. With his eyes on the fruit, he spoke softly.
“I’ve coin for more than fruit, if you have it.”
When the old woman didn’t answer, Bracken shifted his eyes without moving his head in order to look at her. His eyes grew in utter disbelief when blackened teeth peeked out at him through a crooked grin and one lid dropped over the most beautiful green eyes in all of England.
The desire to grab the Duchess of Briscoe and run with her on the spot nearly got the best of him. Bracken started toward her, but stopped when she dropped her gaze and began to sing in a hoarse voice and putter with her fruit. A swift look around told Bracken that the fair had suddenly become crowded. To take her now would cause an incredible scene.
Bracken turned back to Arik, his body stiff with rage.
“I will see you back at Hawkings Crest,” he spoke through clenched teeth. “Come to me the moment she is safe.”
Arik nodded calmly, and Bracken forced himself to walk away without a backward glance.
Thirty-Six
MEGAN PACED THE CONFINES OF HER SALON and tried to be calm. She had confessed her foolhardiness to God the Father, but she had yet to speak with her husband. She knew he was aware of her presence because she had seen Arik talking to him, but he had not yet chosen to make an appearance.
When she finally heard his door, she froze in her place and waited for him to appear. Megan’s heart sank at the sight of him. She had been home and cleaned up for over two hours, but he was still furious.
“I’m sorry, Bracken,” Megan said softly when he stopped in the doorway, but he did little more than glare at her.
“It was unwise of me,” she continued. “I was worried for you, and I simply did not think. I have dressed that way many times before, and I knew there was no better way to gain information.”
It was the worst thing she could have said. Bracken was suddenly swept backward to the agonizing time he had rushed to find her before the marriage. On the way to Stone Lake they had talked with Elias the peddler, only to be told that they’d given an old beggar woman a ride and had certainly not seen Lady Megan. To think that she had dressed that way twice made Bracken more angry than ever.
“How you could do such a thing in your condition is beyond me,” he said between gritted teeth. “I am so angry right now that I can’t even bear to look at you.”
Bracken turned away before Megan could make a sound. She didn’t know when she’d been so crushed. Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her face. She knew well that she had done wrong, but if he could just find it in his heart to forgive her, Megan would press on to do better. As it was, Megan didn’t want to press on at all. She sank into the nearest chair and sobbed, her heart feeling like was it going to break in two.
Two days later Bracken had still not spoken a word to her. He took his meals in the war room and avoided Megan at all costs. Her hurt and humiliation were beyond description, but she didn’t know what to do. At one time Bracken had told her to grow up. If Megan had thought it would do any good, she would have searched him out and said those exact words to him.
He was acting like a child in a tantrum, but telling him such a thing was impossible for more than one reason. He seemed determined not to let her near him. He ate alone and was always gone from his bed long before Megan rose. If Megan started toward him in the keep, he would turn away. It shamed Megan to be ignored, so she stopped trying. His men seemed just as vexed with her as he, and Megan was beginning to feel desperate. She finally approached Arik, her heart in her eyes.
“Arik, I feel a need to see the meadow. Will you go with me?”
He nodded without hesitation, and the odd couple made their way out the gate. Arik was very soothing company. He said nothing, and Megan was left alone with her thoughts as she walked among the beautiful wildflowers.
“For a man so concerned about his baby,” she said to God, “he seems to have completely forgotten I am even with child. I have told him I am sorry, Lord, and now I know not what else to do. It was wrong of me, and I know that sin has its consequences, but this is too much. It is his anger and pride that stand in the way of our reconciliation.
“His anger makes me feel lonely and cold inside. If this continues, I feel I would do better at Stone Lake, but I don’t wish to leave. What will I do if he never forgives me?”
The thought made tears pour down Megan’s face. With her back to her protector, she cried for several minutes. She was still deep in her misery when Arik’s voice surprised her.
“Rise, Lady Megan.”
Megan started violently and then followed Arik’s gaze to see men approaching. She did not know them, and they were dressed in rags, so she swiftly did as Arik bid. Megan dashed the back of her hand across her eyes and spoke with only a slight sniffle in her voice.
“We have no coin to give you. If you have something to sell, you’ll have to go up to the castle.”
They didn’t seem to hear her. They came in closer...not speaking, and acting oddly. Arik stepped partially in front of Megan, and the young duchess’ brow rose when the men were not deterred. Most men were petrified of Arik. It was at that instant that Megan noticed others coming in from behind them.
“Arik?” she said fearfully. The big man drew his knife. Upon seeing it, Megan’s heart suddenly rocketed with panic. She was too terrified to even scream, but Arik grabbed her arm and moved Megan so none could advance from the rear. The men came in closer, and Megan saw that more approached from the woods, seemingly dozens of them.
Had Arik been alone, he would have stood and fought, but his only concern was Megan. He turned and began to run, near
ly dragging her with him, but the men were soon on top of him. He sent Megan on with a hoarse shout to run and a shove that nearly sent her to the ground. But Megan had gained only 50 yards when some of the men caught her. She fought as well, but there were too many.
Seeing Megan with men surrounding her gave Arik renewed strength, and the dozen men attacking him with clubs flew everywhere as he dislodged their relatively small bodies in order to get to her. Megan was still struggling herself, and just as Arik gained his freedom, she watched a tall man come up behind him with a huge cudgel.
Megan found her voice now in a full scream as the club hit Arik alongside the head, not once but twice. Watching in horror as the big man’s legs buckled, Megan screamed again. A hand was clamped over her mouth, and an angry countenance suddenly appeared in her face. Megan stared in terror at Roland Kirkpatrick’s furious eyes just before a cloak was thrown over her head.
The horseback ride was the longest of Megan’s life. The cloak had been removed, but a cloth had been tied tightly across her eyes, completely blinding her. Her hands were bound in front of her, and she had long since lost the feeling in her fingers.
Just when Megan had lost all track of time and direction, her horse stumbled and she fell. Her numb hands grabbed desperately for some hold, but found none. Megan fell hard onto her shoulder, much as she had months before while riding in the processional from Stone Lake. However, this time Bracken was not there to take her atop Warrior.
Rough hands lifted her and tossed her back onto her horse, but they let go before she had her balance. Blinded, and with numbed fingers, Megan could find no hold, and she was knocked unconscious when she fell off the other side and landed on her head. She awoke, feeling quite ill, to the sound of angry voices.
“She’s no use to us dead!”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Be more careful, you fool!”
Megan recognized Roland Kirkpatrick’s voice, but for all the anger, Megan was lifted gently.