by Sakwa, Kim
“’Tis a miracle, lady. I seemed to be completely recovered,” Kevin lied again.
There was no mistaking the warmth in his eyes—his whole disposition, as a matter of fact. Something struck her that she’d never fully considered. Based on their actions, Greylen and his men always put her welfare first. Whether they had to lie to do so or not.
She finally caught up with Isabelle late that afternoon, and they sat together on one of the benches in the gardens behind the keep.
“Greylen took me to the beach this morning,” Gwen told her as she twirled a flower between her hands.
“I’m not surprised.”
“It’s really peaceful. The sound of the water and the rock formations are almost magical.”
“Did you watch the sunrise together?” Isabelle asked.
“Aye, we did.” Gwen sighed, remembering the poignant moment when Greylen directed her attention to the rising sun.
“Well?”
“Well, what?” Gwen laughed.
“Gwendolyn, you’re my sister now, you must tell me everything.”
Gwen only smiled. “I saw you dancing with Gavin last night,” she said, not subtly changing the subject.
Isabelle shook her head. “It felt wonderful to dance with him, but once again, he treats me as always, Gwendolyn.”
“He’ll come around, Isabelle, just give it some more time.”
“I’m eighteen, Gwendolyn. I’ve been waiting since the first time he smiled at me and called me Bella.” She sighed. “I must see to my studies. We can speak more at supper.”
For the rest of the day, Gwen waited for Greylen to return. But when Anna came to the library and announced supper, she knew he wouldn’t be joining them. She loved these dinners so much, but tonight she kept looking to the archway. Her behavior didn’t go unnoticed and before she knew it, Lady Madelyn was explaining Greylen’s countless duties. “He must check with the tenants, meet with the border patrols, and likely spend hours in his study. His responsibilities are endless, Gwendolyn.”
“I must seem selfish,” Gwen admitted, more than a little disappointed with herself.
“Nay, daughter, selfish is a word I would never use to describe your behavior.”
“Thank you, Lady Madelyn.”
“You may call me Mother, Gwendolyn. If you so choose.”
It was more than she could take, so many changes and all so fast. She felt overwhelmed and quietly excused herself. She kissed Isabelle good night and then Lady Madelyn, making sure to whisper “Good night, Mother” in her ear.
Back in her chamber, Gwen changed into one of Greylen’s shirts. She thought to lie down and wait for him, but awoke to strong, warm lips as Greylen sat on the bed beside her. He was back! She hoped her smile and touch conveyed just that.
“I’m sorry I woke you,” he whispered.
“I hope you’re not that sorry. Are you coming to bed?”
“I will be if you continue—ah, Gwen.” He groaned. “I’ve ledgers to see to.”
“You must be exhausted, Greylen,” she said, brushing her fingers through his wet hair.
“I’m fine,” he assured her, giving her another quick kiss before adding, “Go back to sleep, love. I’ll be up later.”
“Can I sit with you in the study?”
“You’d sit with me…while I work?” he asked.
“Of course,” Gwen said quickly.
It seemed to take a moment for him to realize what she offered him. “Come then. I’m going to have Cook prepare something. Are you hungry?”
“You haven’t eaten?” She grabbed his shirt. “Are you frigging kidding me? Supper was hours ago, Greylen. You must be starved.”
He smiled and shook his head, as if pleased by her outrage on his behalf. “Gavin and I just returned, Gwen. We hadn’t the time before now.” He finished his explanation as he moved an errant strand of hair behind her ear.
“Don’t wake Cook, Greylen. I’ll make you something.”
“To eat?” he asked, as if unsure he understood her correctly.
“Yes, to eat,” she clarified, rather put off that he questioned her.
He pulled her close. “You mean to tell me, besides your proficiency of foul, colorful words in a handful of languages, your rampant, behavioral outbursts, and…” He grinned. “Well, your husband’s complete captivation, you prepare food as well?”
“Ooh, such a mouthful. Aside from your last comment, you’re lucky I still have that newlywed glow. Or maybe it’s all that ‘love is blind’ stuff.”
“Should I be offended?” he teased.
Gwen shook her head. “Not if I’m not.” She laughed. “But I would love to cook you dinner,” she said more seriously.
“Would you cook for Gavin as well?” he asked cautiously.
Gwen laughed even harder this time. Gavin obviously hadn’t told Greylen of their late-night kitchen raids. He’d have to find that one out on his own. And, apparently, very soon. She stood on the bed and asked Greylen to turn around.
He did as she asked and seemed surprised when she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself onto his back. She placed a kiss on his cheek, and as she glanced up at him, he closed his eyes as if he enjoyed holding her so. She rested her chin on his shoulder and hugged him as they left the room.
When they reached the landing, Gwen stopped him. “Go to Isabelle’s room, she’ll join us.”
“She’ll be asleep, Gwen,” he insisted.
“Trust me, she won’t.”
He shrugged and took the stairs that led to the other hallway. Gwen knocked lightly on the door and it opened immediately. Isabelle greeted them with a smile. “Shall we go for a raid?” she asked.
Gwen laughed. “Aye, to the kitchen.”
They stopped to fetch Gavin, who sat in the study. Feet atop the table, he held a stack of papers, wet hair dripping on his shoulders.
As if sensing that he was being watched, Gavin looked up and smiled. Gwen could only imagine his happiness at the sight before him. His commander and best friend, holding his new wife on his back. Gwen’s head rested on Greylen’s shoulder. She was grinning and assumed Greylen was too. Isabelle stood beside them, wearing a white bedgown covered with a matching robe, her toes peeking out from beneath. From watching him look at Isabelle now, Gwen surmised he was remembering what it had felt like to dance with her last night. For a band of well-schooled liars, they had some of the biggest hearts she’d ever known.
“My wife informs me she can cook,” Greylen said. “What know you of this, Gavin?”
“Aye, she can cook, Greylen. You’re in for a treat, my friend.”
“Well, get up already,” Gwen ordered with a smile. “We have work to do.”
Once in the kitchen, Gwen went straight to the cupboards. She removed the pots and pans while Gavin lit the fire beneath the stove. Isabelle walked to the island and set the plates that were stacked next to a vase of flowers.
“Look, Gwen,” Isabelle called with a smile. “Cook left four place settings.”
“I noticed,” Gwen replied as she took utensils from hooks above the counter. “She’s the best.” Gwen noticed, too, that Greylen was just standing by the island, watching them as if a bit surprised that they had a routine.
“Well, what do you think my husband would like?” Gwen asked as she turned to Isabelle and Gavin. “Rabbit, chicken, steak, fi—”
“Steak!” Isabelle and Gavin laid claim to the dish in a shout. As always, they were thrilled to sample the meat that Gwen seared to perfection on the stove.
“Is that all right with you, Greylen?” she asked him. “It’s different from what you’re used to,” she explained. “But your sister and Gavin said it’s much tastier than the roasted cuts Cook prepares.”
Greylen just looked at her. He couldn’t speak. She really meant
to cook for him. Joyfully.
“Are you okay?” Gwen asked, placing her hand on his arm. He continued to stare as she pulled a stool from beneath the island and instructed him to sit. Then she squeezed his hands before returning to the stove.
“Isabelle, get your brother some wine and pour some for the rest of us,” Gwen instructed. “But remember, only one glass for you. Gavin, will you grab some potatoes and onions—never mind. I’ll get them, just fetch the meat from the cellar.”
Greylen drank the wine Isabelle set before him, looking to his wife, who stood before the stove. He realized only now that she wore just his shirt, and his sister, her nightclothes. Gwen leaned down to check the fire beneath the pans, swatting her hair as it fell in her face. His smile broadened as he watched her, and he almost laughed aloud when he heard her curse. Good God, she was a walking paradox.
She looked to her wrists and cursed again. He had no idea what she hoped to find, but the sight of her…by God, she was fetching. She walked toward him and lifted his wrist, smiling as she saw the leather cords he’d tied there. Their purposes were many and he always kept them handy. She removed one and looked at him as she pulled back her hair. He braced her hips between his legs and whispered in her ear, “I love you, Gwen.” He was rewarded with a smile that lit her entire face.
“I love you too,” she whispered back. Then she disappeared into the pantry.
“Your wife’s a wonderful cook,” Isabelle said as she sat across from him. “Just wait.”
“And just how often has she cooked for you, Sprite?” Greylen questioned mildly. In truth, however, he was becoming a little suspicious.
Isabelle gave a delicate shrug. “Well, aside from the first time, which was the morning after you left, I suppose every night.”
“She cooks every night?”
Gavin and Gwen stepped from the pantry, each laden with items. Greylen went immediately to help his wife, making sure his contemptuous look was fixed only on Gavin. “She cooked for you every night.”
“Aye,” Gavin taunted, “each meal more delicious than the last. ’Tis a shame you missed it.”
“Gavin,” Gwen yelled. “If you can’t play nice, then don’t play at all.”
Greylen shot Gavin a triumphant look, for Gwen had come to his defense. Then he realized he’d acted like a lad whose mother had just defended him. Good God, what was happening?
“Greylen, sit down and drink your wine,” Gwen ordered. “Isabelle, help me cut these potatoes. And Gavin—behave.”
“Ah, my bossy mistress has found her tongue.”
“You call my wife bossy?” Greylen asked the question with more surprise than outrage. Gwen had been nothing but compliant since his return, hadn’t she?
“Enough,” Gwen exclaimed.
“’Tis good to have you home.” Gavin clinked his goblet with Greylen’s.
Greylen spoke with Gavin as Isabelle helped Gwen. And though he held his end of the conversation, he couldn’t take his eyes from his wife. She added meat to one pan and potatoes and onions to another, and to another a mixture of greens. She had rolled his shirtsleeves above her elbows and the bottom edge of her shirt rested just above her knees. Her hair had loosened about her face, and she continued to blow it back in frustration. Her attention elsewhere, she’d not take the time to fix it. Without thought, he stood and stepped behind her. “Be still, wife,” he ordered, untying the leather strap. Then he ran his fingers through her hair and pulled it back before retying it.
She remained completely still for a long minute. Finally she turned. “I can’t believe you did that,” she said as if truly shocked.
“You needed help,” he told her.
“But, you fixed my hair,” she told him as if he wasn’t the one who just did so.
“Aye, wife, I fixed your hair.”
“You fixed my hair, Greylen.”
He sighed, shaking his head. “Let me help you to understand, love. I. Fixed. Your. Hair,” he teased with infinite slowness. Then he turned to Gavin and Isabelle. “You’re right.” He shrugged. “She’s daft.”
They laughed as he reached out and brushed his fingers down Gwen’s face.
“Greylen fixes everything, Gwen,” Isabelle said matter-of-factly as she poured more wine. “’Tis always the way of it.”
Gwen still looked stunned but mouthed “thank you” to which Greylen mouthed “you’re welcome” before he sat down again.
Greylen resumed his conversation with Gavin as Gwen filled their plates. She served him first and he looked at the meal she set before him—perfectly seared meat covered with mushrooms, potatoes fried with onions, and greens sprinkled with spices. Then Isabelle placed a basket of bread between them and sat next to Gavin, across from him and Gwen. They took one another’s hands and Isabelle and Gwen reached for his. He obliged, expecting to say grace.
“Isabelle, why don’t you begin,” his wife said.
“I’m grateful you’re my sister now, Gwen,” Isabelle said quickly and with a smile. Greylen saw that Gwen squeezed her hand, then she looked to Gavin, who began with the same words. “I’m grateful…not to be outnumbered any longer.” His teasing remark caused Isabelle to laugh, and Gwen smiled too. Then his wife looked directly into his eyes and her quiet, simple words that followed touched his heart in a way that he’d never imagined. “I’m grateful you’re home.”
Greylen never took his eyes from her nor did he hesitate. “’Tis I who am grateful, Gwen, to have a wife such as you.” He picked up his goblet and tilted it toward his wife’s. Then he held it before him and gestured to Gavin and Isabelle.
Eager to sample the foods that Gwen had cooked for him, he quickly tried everything. His eyes closed after each bite. “Good God, my wife can cook.” He sighed, shaking his head.
’Twas a new experience, eating in the kitchen. And one he enjoyed immensely. They talked for the longest time and, in fact, had two more glasses of wine before they finished. Isabelle and Gwen cleared the island and washed the dishes, then Gavin put them in the cupboards. Greylen stood as well, bringing his goblet to the sink before extinguishing the fire beneath the stove.
“Gavin, see Isabelle to her room,” Greylen ordered. “I’ll wait in the study.”
Gavin tried to keep his face expressionless, but he clearly wasn’t pleased with the order, “Come Bel—Isabelle.” He made the correction quickly, then walked toward the doors and held them open.
Gwen shot Greylen a questioning look. He returned a conspiratorial wink. She had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing and turned quickly so Gavin wouldn’t see. After they left, Greylen held out his hand and when she took it, he gathered her in his arms.
“Thank you, Gwen.”
“You’re welcome, Greylen.”
“I still have work to do. Should I take you upstairs?”
“I’d prefer to sit with you, if it’s all right.”
“Aye, I’d prefer it too.”
Gavin’s mood matched his gait as he led Isabelle down the hallway. She’d had two cups of wine, more than she should have, and swayed from its effects. She tripped over her nightgown as she started up the steps, forcing him to reach out and hold her waist and shoulders.
“Oops.” She giggled.
“Ah, Bella, you’re going to make me carry you, aren’t you,” he uttered, shaking his head.
She nodded, laying her head on his chest as he cradled her in his arms. Neither spoke a word as he continued up the stairs and stopped outside her door.
“Carry me inside, Gavin,” she whispered.
“Nay, Bella.” Then he shook his head again, realizing she’d not make it herself. He carried her to bed and laid her beneath the covers. Then he forced himself to turn quickly and leave.
“Gavin?”
“Aye, Bella,” he asked without turning.
“I love you.”
“Nay, Gavin, ’tis not,” she whispered.
He left without looking back, slamming his fist against the wall outside of Bella’s chamber. She was all he ever wanted. And the one thing he could never have. His past would always haunt him. And his secret, if revealed, would destroy everything he’d fought so hard to achieve. The very family he’d give his life for.
His mood was no better when he returned to the study. Greylen sat behind his desk while Gwen read on the settee. He picked up the papers he’d been looking through earlier, then sat across from Greylen so they could discuss the matters which needed immediate attention. ’Twas another hour before they finished.
“First light, Gavin, we round the herd along the northern border. We’re behind schedule,” Greylen said quietly.
Still out of sorts, Gavin only nodded and dismissed himself as he looked to Gwen, who had fallen asleep. What he wouldn’t give to be as such with Isabelle. His chest tightened at the thought.
The pain was no better back in his chamber. ’Twas an empty bed he sat on as he laid his blade atop the bedside table. He stared at it for hours, wishing instead that the last of his nighttime ritual would end as he pulled the covers aside and gathered Bella in his arms.
Sadly, he knew ’twas a dream he would never have.
Gwen awoke in her husband’s arms. She felt better than ever. Greylen was an incredible lover, and contrary to the nasty rumors that circulated through the hospital, she wasn’t an ice queen after all. She loved sex. She loved intimacy. She only realized now she’d never had the opportunity to experience it. Odd, she’d spent her entire life in the twenty-first century surrounded by people, and now, after only a few short weeks at Seagrave, with Greylen’s family, the difference was striking.
She considered attacking her husband, then scrapped the idea to go for a run instead. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to make love; she did. But if they made love now, her run would be out of the question. She’d be useless, at least for the morning.