“Do you know how much I want you?” he asked as his mouth carved a searing path across her skin.
Her body on fire, her every fiber craving the intimacy they’d shared over and over again, she gave him a sultry smile. “Aye, very much so.”
“My lady, ’twould seem your days of innocence are long lost.”
Enjoying the game of lovers, she nodded. “Because of you. Because of the amazing way you make me feel. Because of how boldly you touch me.”
He shed his clothes. “’Tis wanton you are, a fact that pleases me much.” He caught her mouth in a fierce kiss and entered her with one thrust.
Loving him with all her heart, Rois lost herself to the passion that only Griffin could bring.
Chapter Twenty-one
Two days later, Rois stood upon the wall walk and stared through the crenulations at the sweep of the manicured lawns prepared for the upcoming winter storms that would ravage the lands. Against the cold air, her breath misted in a rolling cloud.
“We meet again?”
At the familiar welcome in Lord Arthyan’s voice, she turned and smiled. “’Tis a beautiful night.” She glanced about. “Your wife didna join you?”
He bowed. “She insisted I come up here alone. She knows I amble along the wall walk when I find myself heavy in thought.”
“Sorry I am that you are troubled, my lord.” Rois stepped back. “I shall leave you.”
He shook his head. “Westminster is large. I will find another place.”
Her curiosity piqued, she glanced toward her maid a short distance away. None would think their meeting untoward. “If I am nae intruding, I have been known to be a good listener.”
His expression grew somber. “The topic is one I wish nae to ponder aloud.”
At the graveness of his tone, she nodded. “I shall leave you to your contemplations.”
“Wait.” He darted a look around, then exhaled. “’Tis about your husband.”
A chill swept her. Had her presence here somehow jeopardized Griffin? “My lord, you are making little sense.”
“Forgive me.” He rubbed his brow. “I have debated speaking with you these past two days. I thought my mind made up, but I struggle now. It wouldna be difficult if I didna know you so well, or think of you as a daughter.”
“My lord, you are scaring me.”
“My regrets, ’tis nae my intent. My lady, I am doing this poorly.”
“Doing what poorly?”
“Warning you.”
She fought for calm. “Warning me? I know naught of how you could warn me in regards to Griffin. His actions are above reproach. Surely you err.”
“I pray ’tis true,” the earl whispered, torment edging his voice. “’Tis but rumor and speculation. However, I regret to say it is quickly gaining ground.” He paused. “I fear if this viciousness reaches King Edward’s ear, ’twill be too late to salvage Lord Monceaux’s reputation, or his life. Or”—sadness sagged on his face—“yours.”
Her body trembling, Rois laid her hand upon her chest, aware of the lethal damage wrought by poisonous gossip unchecked. “If the news is so dire, why have you nae spoken to my husband?”
“My lady, I have tried. As of late, Lord Monceaux has been out of Westminster Castle or ensconced in numerous meetings.”
Indeed. The last few nights Griffin had entered their chamber well after Compline, and their lovemaking gave way to his need for sleep.
“Please share with me this rumor, and I shall ensure it reaches his ears.”
The distant flicker of torchlight outlined the relief upon his face. “My thanks for accepting this caution. Again, I do nae know if it is true, but I have known you since you were a child. With my deep respect for Lord Brom, I could do no other than to alert you.”
Throat dry, she nodded.
He cleared his throat. “’Tis alleged that your husband delivers English battle plans and other critical information to the Scots.”
“Impossible!” Rois stared at him in disbelief. But, beneath his regretful stare, she hesitated. Was it true? Regardless, she must proceed with caution. “Griffin is loyal to King Edward. His holdings are in England. He has no reason to betray his king.”
“I agree, but to some, ’twould seem his marriage to you has raised questions of his loyalty.”
Now she understood: Gossip spawned by jealousy. “Speculation like that is pure folly. Our marriage has naught to do with his loyalty.” And everything to do with Griffin being tricked into the act by her.
“I regret to have shared such news.” The earl worried his hands. “Rois, I have one more request, which I ask only due to my having known your family over the years. Please nae say a word of where you heard the gossip to anyone, including to your husband.”
Stunned by his request, she stiffened. “Do nae ask me to betray my husband by withholding secrets. I willna.”
Lord Arthyan nodded. “Aye, I am wrong to ask you to keep secrets from your husband. Hence my hesitation to ask you to keep how you learned this to yourself. I make the entreaty only because my life is at risk if it is discovered I told you. But”—he paused, a touch of fear in his eyes—“I will respect your right to inform your husband what you feel is prudent. For old time’s sake, I pray you keep your source hidden.”
Torn by his request, Rois shook her head. She would never keep a secret from Griffin. “I make no promises.”
The earl nodded. He glanced around as if ensuring none could hear, and then focused on Rois. “Rest assured, I am a man who supports your husband’s actions. Please know I maintain secret ties to Scotland, which, I confess, still holds my first loyalty. If King Edward learns of my allegiance, charges of treason would befall me in a trice.”
She’d suspected as much, but along with relief, the weight of his words left her shaken. “I would never betray you.”
“Aye, that I believe.” Lord Arthyan withdrew a document from beneath his cape. “Mayhap this will convince you.”
God in heaven, what else could he share?
He unrolled it. “Here, see for yourself.”
In silence she scanned the neatly penned document, noted within the content Griffin’s name, and several meeting places in Scotland along with their dates.
Confused, she glanced up. “’Tis but missions assigned to him by the English king.”
“Nay, look closer. Note the initial G by each meeting with William Wallace, Andrew de Moray, and other rebels of import. King Edward did nae send him. The engagements were of his choosing. My lady,” he said, his words solemn, “this document was given to me by a traitor who does nae know of my loyalty to Scotland.”
“The document must be fake,” she whispered. “With Griffin’s attention to detail, if indeed he was working with the Scots, he wouldna be so careless.”
“A fact of which I agree. When I challenged the Scot, he explained he had stolen the document from Griffin’s horse during a recent trip, and that the document was very real.”
Fear tore through her. “’Tis treachery the Scot would act in such a brazen manner.”
“Treachery or nae,” the earl said, his voice grave, “the fact is a man loyal to King Edward is aware of Griffin’s exploits for the Scottish cause.”
Heart pounding, she shook her head. “This canna be.” And prayed it was true.
The earl looked at her with shrewd eyes. “’Tis truth.” He paused. “Apparently your husband has kept you ignorant of his exploits.”
Torn between excitement of such a possibility and fear for Griffin’s life, she hesitated. “Lord Arthyan, I still find this charge hard to accept. Except for his duties, I have been with Griffin day and night since we wed. He speaks constantly of his fidelity to England. He owns Rothfield Castle, which sits on English lands!”
The earl gave her a slight bow. “I will leave you to decide your own belief. But for your own caution, I bid you to beware. Lord Monceaux is in league with the Scots.”
Excitement rushed through Rois as she a
gain assessed the document revealed to her by Lord Arthyan.
Griffin was loyal to Scotland.
With astonishing clarity, the questions raised since Rois had met Griffin fell into place. How he had dared to enter Dunadd Castle before the Battle at Stirling Bridge. Why Wallace had requested Lord Monceaux bring de Moray to Cumbuskenneth Abbey to recover. And why her father trusted Griffin with her life.
Her father.
Da must have known of Griffin’s true loyalty from the first.
Humbled by the risks Griffin had taken, ashamed she’d believed ill of him when all along he’d endangered his life to help Scotland, she found it incredible he could have fallen in love with her when she’d believed him her enemy.
“Mother of God, Griffin is in league with the rebels,” she whispered, needing to say the words, their taste wonderfully real.
“Aye.” Lord Arthyan pointed to the signature at the bottom of the penned document. “As you can clearly see, ’tis written by your husband’s hand.”
Hands trembling, Rois rerolled the writ, thankful the man she’d fallen in love with was indeed loyal to Scotland alone. She handed the document back to the earl.
“My apologies, my lord, for my outburst moments ago. It was, and still is, shocking news.”
“Rest assured, I will keep this hidden. God forbid if it falls into the wrong hands.” He laid his hand upon hers. “Please, my lady, all I ask is that you tell your husband his actions are being watched.”
On a hard swallow, she nodded. Lives lay at stake in a very real, very deadly game. “My thanks, I will warn Griffin immediately.” Heart pounding, she started to bid the earl farewell, then a new worry arose. “What of my father?”
“Lord Brom?”
“Aye,” she rushed out, fear for her father growing every moment. “If this gossip reaches King Edward’s ears, will my father be charged with treason?”
The earl frowned. “Why should your husband’s loyalties, such as they are, affect Lord Brom?”
Did he nae understand? “Because,” she explained, “my father sanctioned my marriage. He would never do so unless he believed my husband is a man he could trust. Or, he knew and has been meeting with Griffin in secret. And as I am sure you are aware, like you, his loyalties remain with Scotland.”
The earl rubbed his chin. “Aye, I understand your concern. Do nae worry, your father should be safe. Once Lord Monceaux is aware of the rumors concerning his loyalties, he will quash them.”
On an exhale, she wrung her hands. “Thank you, sincerely, for everything.”
“’Tis my pleasure, my lady, to be of your service.” He bowed. “Be off with you now, the sooner you alert your husband to the dangers the better.”
“Indeed.” With nerves frayed, Rois hurried away.
At the panicked look on Rois’s face as she entered their chamber, Griffin shoved aside his frustrations from his recent meeting.
“Rois—”
“Thank God you are here.” She hurried over, threw herself against him.
He drew back. “What is wrong?”
“Griffin,” she rushed out, her voice filled with relief, “I—I know.”
Unease swept him. “Know what?”
“That you are loyal to Scotland.”
Astonished, he stared at her. “Rois,” he said, his voice brusque, but the stakes were too high to misspeak. “What are you talking about?”
“I kn-know you aid the rebels.”
Griffin stilled. She couldn’t. Except by the conviction of her words, she believed she spoke the truth—which she did.
“Rois—”
“It is the reason why Da allowed you to stay married to me. And why Wallace trusted you to take my cousin Andrew to Cumbuskenneth Abbey, is it nae?”
He’d struggled to find a way to explain the truth of his loyalty, and doubted he ever would. Now, God help him, she knew, but it left a dangerous question unanswered. Who had told her?
“Is it true?” she pressed.
He would explain, but he needed answers as well. “Yes, my loyalty lies with the rebels,” he replied with caution. “I joined the Scottish cause in my youth. Many rebels know of me, but nae who I am.”
“Nae who you are? What do you mean?”
Pulse racing, he watched the mix of pride and fear on her face. Fear was healthy. It would keep her words and actions guarded. And keep her alive.
“I work beneath the name Wulfe.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You are Wulfe?”
He nodded. “My father before me was loyal to the Scots. He worked covertly for them against England’s tyranny. As a youth, I witnessed the injustice to the people of Scotland, so I joined the rebel cause as well.” He paused. “Over time, my title and connections allowed me to secure a place as King Edward’s advisor to the Scots, a position that has saved numerous rebel lives.”
Rois scraped her teeth across her bottom lip. “Why did you nae tell me before?”
“To protect you.” He caressed the soft curve of her cheek. “I wanted you innocent of the fact in case you were ever questioned, or I . . .”
“Died.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Y-you should have told me.”
“Rois, you were never to know.”
Shrewd eyes studied him. “Which is why you sought an annulment. Nae because you didna love me, but because you wanted me safe.”
God, he loved her. “I never should have touched you.”
A hint of a smile touched her mouth. “I am glad you did.”
“As I.” Neither could he ignore a more serious issue. “Rois, who told you of my loyalty to the Scots?”
“’Twas a trusted family friend,” she explained. “He showed me a document listing your name, and the dates of your meeting with your rebel contacts.”
Dread crept through him. “A trusted friend showed you this document?” God’s teeth. Rois considered only one man in residence her friend—a very powerful lord with dangerous connections.
“Aye,” she rushed on, “a document written by your hand. He explained they were given to him by a traitorous Scot who stole the document from your horse during a recent trip.” At his silence, panic filled her eyes. “What is wrong?”
“You are speaking of Lord Arthyan?”
She gave a jerky nod.
He muttered a curse, his mind racing at what he must do, of who he must warn. First, though, he must explain to Rois. “Listen to me,” he said with care, aware from their talks how she admired the earl. “No such document exists.”
“But I saw—”
“Rois,” he said, his voice grave, “Lord Arthyan is a man who seeks King Edward’s praise regardless of the foul play used.”
“Nay, you are wrong. I have known him for many years, and trust him with my life. I saw the document,” she said, her voice growing panicked. “Griffin, he risked his life to warn you.”
Fury slammed him. “The only life he risked is yours.”
“It canna be. I have known Lord Arthyan all of my life. He would nae lie to me.”
The desperation in her voice drove his anger deeper. Never was Rois to be involved in any of this. “Think you if I had such a document, I would not notice its disappearance?
Her face paled.
“Lord Arthyan is loyal to King Edward,” he continued. “For his own gain, he is using you to try and set me up.”
“But—”
“Only a handful of people know my loyalties are for Scotland. And, none, none are in Westminster Palace.”
Her pallor whitened. “You are wrong.”
“I wish, with all of my heart,” he said, his voice strained, “but ’tis so.”
She stilled, and began to shake. “Oh, God, Da!”
Fear tore through him. “What about Lord Brom?”
Desperate eyes held his. “I believed Lord Arthyan was my friend.” Griffin cupped her shoulders, his blood pounding hot. “Rois, tell me what you told the earl.”
Tears
filled her eyes. “I asked Lord Arthyan if because my father sanctioned our marriage, he would come under suspicion by King Edward. I—I should have stopped there, but I admitted to the earl that I believed my da would never approve our marriage unless he knew you and has been meeting with you in secret. I also assured him that my da’s loyalties remain with Scotland.”
A muscle worked in Griffin’s jaw. “What did he say?”
“Lord Arthyan assured me nae to worry, but I have placed my father’s life in danger!”
Bedamned. “Have you told anyone else?”
“Nay,” she whispered. “I hurried to find you after he showed me the document.”
“Full of falsehoods. No such document exists. ’Twas concocted to support the earl’s lie.”
“W-we have to warn Da!”
Griffin drew her against him, stroked her hair. “I will send a runner this night.”
Eyes hot with anger, she met his gaze. “Lord Arthyan lied to me. I will—”
“Do naught.”
Rois shook her head, frantic to find a way to repair this. “How can you expect me to do nothing when ’twas my impulsiveness that has endangered you and my father, and may thwart any future information the rebels desperately need?”
“Listen to me,” Griffin said, keeping his voice even. “We need to stop and think this through. First, if the document was real, the earl would have delivered it without delay to King Edward’s guard and ordered my arrest.”
“True,” she conceded. “So what do we do now?”
“You will go into hiding until I have dealt with Lord Arthyan.”
Rois stepped back. “I will go nowhere! Throughout my life I have allowed my emotions to guide me, one such decision which led to our marriage. However thankful I am for that twist of fate, too many other times my actions brought about regret. But,” she said, her voice rough with emotion, “this day I have learned my lesson. The danger to my family is because of me and, by God, I will have a hand in repairing it.”
“Rois, I will not place you in danger.”
She angled her jaw. “’Tis too late.”
Griffin cursed. “I want you safe.”
Her heart ached. “I know.”
With a grimace, he rubbed his brow and shot her a hard look.
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