While she would very much love to discuss her dreams with him—she felt they had much in common—she knew it was the lad who interested Colin, certainly not the spoiled young woman who had selfishly run off.
She answered as she felt the lad would. “Dreaming is a waste of time.”
“I am surprised, Harold. I would think you a dreamer of possibilities; all adventurous people are.”
Aye, they did think alike. She shrugged. “Life interferes with dreams, so I do not waste my time on what will never be.”
“You are too sensible for one so young.”
“Life forced maturity on me. I did not ask for it nor want it. But once it was mine I accepted the responsibility that went with it. I will do what I must in life.” Truer words she had never spoken, and the truth of them tore at her heart.
Colin placed a comforting hand on the lad’s knee. “Shanekill is a good place to find one’s dreams.”
The warmth of his hand penetrated her stocking and ran a pleasurable tingle up her leg. Why? Why could she not ignore this attraction to him? Had she fallen so blindly in love that she could not make sense of her senses?
“Colin,” came a whining plea from Colleen. “The night grows late and I grow more eager.”
Hope felt like shoving the last of the fruit tart right in her smiling face. This was her chance to spend time talking with Colin, and the annoying wench had to interfere.
“A moment,” Colin said.
A moment was not long enough for Hope. Her time was limited and she suddenly wished to spend much of it with Colin, to come to know him well and to have good memories of him to take with her when she left.
She had to find a way to keep him talking with the lad while ridding them of Colleen. She took another bite of the tart while giving thought to her dilemma when suddenly her stomach cramped. Instinctively her hand went to the pain and she moaned out loud.
“What is wrong?” Colin demanded, his arm slipping around the lad who sat doubled over.
“An ache… that is all,” she insisted when she realized her monthly time was near and making itself known. Unfortunately another cramp seized her and she could not stop the suffering sound of another moan.
“You are not well,” Colin insisted. “I will take you to Faith.”
Hope recalled what the Devil and his lady were doing and did not wish to interrupt them. And she told Colin just that. “The lord and his lady are busy at the cottage.”
Colin seemed to think nothing of it. “Then I will settle you in my quarters and seek Bridget’s aid.”
Hope knew she could have no one tend her but Faith. She purposely moaned again and this time more loudly. “Nay, I wish Lady Faith; she will know what ails me.”
Colin would agree to anything the lad asked, as long as he suffered no longer. “I will fetch Lady Faith for you once you are settled.”
He stood, leaned over and scooped the lad up into his arms.
Hope was stunned not only by his actions but by the feel of his hard chest and the strength of his strong arms and the tenderness of his heart. The last bit of tart fell from her hand to the ground and Hope clasped her hands together to rest on her stomach, so fearful was she that she would throw her arms around his neck and hold on tightly to him.
“Another time, my love,” he said to a disappointed Colleen as he neared her. “I promise.”
Colleen’s smile was bittersweet and her offer generous. “If there is anything I can do to help the lad.”
“Aye, there is. Find Bridget and tell her to go fetch Lady Faith. She is at the healing cottage with Lord Eric.”
Colleen nodded. “As you wish.” And off she went.
Lady’s head came up instantly from where she lay curled by the hearth with Rook. She whined and immediately rushed to Hope, sniffing frantically at her dangling legs and following as Colin carried her into the great hall and up the stairs.
Rook followed Lady, though remained calm and on guard.
Hope was surprised at the comfort of Colin’s room. The bed was large and draped with fine linens in the deepest of blues. Several beautifully crafted tapestries covered the walls. A desk with numerous candles, parchment, ink pots and quills sat against one wall and two large chests with scarves in foreign designs draped across them sat against another. In front of the burning hearth that toasted the room with even warmth were two wooden chairs with intricately carved arms and legs.
It was obvious Colin had made this room his home, his refuge from the world, his solace. And Hope knew then that he had never brought a woman here. Never, that was, until this night.
He gently laid her on the bed, placing his hand to her head.
“I do not suffer from the fever. An ache in my stomach pains me.” She grimaced at the cramp that tormented her.
“Something you ate, perhaps?”
“Lady Faith will know what to do,” Hope assured him, wanting to ease his needless worry.
He nodded and walked away from the bed for a moment to return with a cloth that he used to wipe the berry juice from around her mouth. He gave a gentle pat, applying a slight pressure in the corners of her mouth. “You enjoyed the tarts.”
“They were delicious.” She smiled, and for a brief second his finger slipped into her mouth, faintly brushing her tongue. She shuddered from the taste of him.
He seemed momentarily stunned and then he shook himself as though forcing himself to wake. “You are chilled.” He pulled up the wool blanket that lay folded at the foot of the bed and covered the lad to his chin. He then sat beside him on the bed.
Hope wished he would remain there by her side. His presence alone made her feel better. But dreams were not meant to be… she shut her eyes tightly against that disturbing thought.
Colin seemed instinctively to know the lad’s need. “Rest, Harold; I will remain by your side.”
Until Faith came, she thought, and then he would remain beside her no more and this private time with him would be done.
“Rest; I am with you.”
His caring words brought tears to her eyes and she kept them tightly closed, refusing to cry, refusing to admit what her aching heart told her, refusing to love.
Refusing to dream.
Chapter Sixteen
Faith chased Colin from the room, insisting she required privacy to tend to the ailing lad. He paced the hall outside his quarters along with Eric who patiently leaned against the stone wall.
“What draws you so to this lad?” Eric asked.
Colin stopped pacing and pondered the question with serious concern. “I cannot say for certain. There is something about him that makes me wish to protect him, though if he were larger in size I have no doubt he could protect himself, given his sheer determination.”
Eric agreed with a smile and a nod. “He can be stubborn, but then I suppose his stubbornness aids his courage.”
Colin ran a quick hand through his hair, his frustration obvious. “He gets himself involved in countless situations that he does not possess the physical strength to tackle.”
“As he did this evening, when he used his puny body to protect my wife?”
“Aye, precisely,” Colin said and realizing his remark, shook his head. “Eric. I meant no disrespect to you—”
Eric held a hand up to silence him. “I understand your concern, but I think you fail to realize the lad’s true nature. He cares deeply enough to think of others before himself. He has strength of character that is remarkable in one so young, and he should be guided wisely so that he may reach his full potential.”
Colin attempted to respond but Eric’s look warned he was not finished.
“What I want to know, Colin, is why this deep concern for this lad?”
Colin looked about to protest his remark when he suddenly changed his mind and simply shook his head. “I cannot say. Since first we met I felt the need to see to his safety. He is bold and blunt and often too foolish and yet—” Colin shrugged. “As you said, he cares deeply. He thought nothing of riskin
g his own life to save Stuart’s.”
“The character of a true warrior. He goes into battle with not himself in mind but his courage strong and his mind prepared.”
Colin threw his hands up. “But he is scrawny with barely an ounce of muscle on him and those wide eyes of his sometimes remind me of a frightened deer caught in the sights of a marksman.”
“A deer that obviously will not surrender.”
“True enough and with a large, fearful dog who should protect but instead requires protection. They make a strange pair.”
“Rook seems to find her attractive,” Eric said with a grin.
“Do you see how Lady sits beside the bed, her head near Harold’s hand, and whines as if it is she that suffers and needs consoling rather than her master?” Another rake of his hair and another pace or two saw to his frustration before he once again stopped. “When I met him he barely knew where his next meal would come from but he made certain Lady ate. When the men dragged the thieving, whining dog into camp he ran to her protection, caring not of his own safety or hunger. And he shared every morsel of food with that dog.”
“Obviously the lad knows how to love.”
“I think he hungers for it.”
“As do you,” Eric said firmly.
“You are not going to start again about finding me a wife, are you?”
Eric laughed. “I need to do nothing. It is in Faith’s hands.”
“Lord help me.”
“I think he is on her side.” Eric laughed harder, to Colin’s annoyance.
“I have met no one that I wish to spend the rest of my life with.”
“You never take the time to know any woman,” Eric accused. “You bed them and forget them.”
“It is the best way.”
“Why? Do you fear being hurt? Disappointed?”
Colin went to lean against the wall next to Eric. “I have known few marriages where the husband and wife loved each other. They married out of duty and necessity.”
“I love Faith.”
“Not when you married her.”
“Soon after I realized that I did,” Eric insisted.
“Then I should take the chance and wed a stranger and hope that I fall in love with her?” He answered his own question with an adamant shake of his head. “Look at this Hope and the trouble she causes. However will her husband deal with her spirited nature?”
“Spirited, not spoiled?” Eric asked.
“Perhaps a little of both.”
“If he were wise and cared for her he would give her spirit free rein and love her for who she truly is. That is love, is it not? Allowing the one you love to be who she is.”
Colin smiled. “You have grown wiser since becoming a husband.”
Eric grinned and laughed. “My wife is a good teacher.’
“I wonder if this Hope will teach her husband so well.”
“Or will he allow her to?”
“So we return to the question,” Eric said, his dark eyes intent on an answer. “Why do you fear love?”
Colin was trapped. His lord expected an answer and that meant he had to face the question. He remained in his own thoughts for a moment, attempting to formulate a good answer. In the end he answered as honestly as he could, surprising himself. “I fear I will never find it. Never find the love that I desire. Never find the woman I can make forever mine.”
“Which is why you envy the lad.”
Colin looked confused.
“The lad loves unconditionally. He does not care if his dog is a coward and needs protecting; he loves her. He does not care that he is puny in size; he fights anyway. He charges into life with the strength of his convictions and loves with an undaunting courage.”
“And you think I do not possess the courage to love?” He sounded indignant.
Eric placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “You have courage, Colin, but you refuse to let it guide you, where love is concerned. How can you ever find a woman to love if you do not take love seriously?”
Colin thought over Eric’s words.
“You wish to teach the lad what he needs to survive in this world and yet he can teach you as well. Learn from each other and you both will benefit.”
Faith stepped out of the room, softly closing the door behind her. “I have given Harold something that will help his ailing stomach, though I suspect he will have a fretful sleep. I thought I might stay with him throughout the night, so if he wakes I can see that he takes more of the brew I prepared.”
“I will sit with the lad and see to his care,” Colin offered without hesitation.
Faith worried that such intimate quarters might cause a problem for Hope, and her reluctance showed.
Eric slipped his arm around his wife’s expanded waist. “Colin is capable of seeing to the lad and you need your rest.”
Faith’s need to protect her friend brought a protest to her lips but she caught it before it slipped out, her instincts informing her that perhaps the two needed time alone to become better acquainted.
“I will give you instructions,” she said to Colin with such a sweet smile that her husband furrowed his brow and rested a curious look on her—one she chose to ignore.
Eric waited just inside the room as his wife instructed Colin about his duties. She then joined her husband, taking his hand, her smile remaining much too sweet. She was up to something—he knew it. He could question her, for she was forever honest with him, but she did know how to evade the issue if she so chose. Nay, he would watch her carefully and discover for himself what she was about.
They quietly left the room, leaving Colin to watch over the lad.
Colin moved a chair near the bed to keep a watchful eye on Harold. Faith had borrowed a soft linen tunic of his for the lad to wear as a night rail and had scrubbed his face so clean that his split lip and bruised eye stood out in stark contrast to his pale complexion. He looked small and helpless huddled beneath the wool blanket, and Colin felt a surge of protection rush over him.
What was this compulsion he had to protect the lad?
Why this need to look after him? Especially when the lad asked no favors of him. He was content enough on his own. Yet Colin could not let it go; his need to see to Harold’s safety and wellbeing forever haunted him.
Lady whined softly, her head resting on the bed beside Harold.
“Hush, Lady, your master needs his rest,” Colin said in a soft yet firm whisper.
Lady simply whined again, her large eyes resting on Harold and then turning to Colin as if the animal expected him to do something.
Colin called Lady to him. She was reluctant to leave her perch, but Colin’s command turned firm and with one last whine she moved to Colin’s side.
He gave her head a pat and her ear a rub and offered consoling words. “Harold is fine. You need not worry. I will take care of him.”
Lady seemed to understand and rested her head on Colin’s knee, her whining at an end.
“You are lucky, Lady,” Colin whispered. “Harold loves you even with all your faults.”
A soft whine told him she agreed, and then Lady settled herself at his feet to sleep.
Colin rested his head back against the chair. Was that what he was searching for? Someone to love him unconditionally, faults and all, just as he was willing to love someone. He was not interested in perfection. Perfection harbored selfishness and boredom. He did not wish to be trapped in a loveless marriage where the husband and wife tolerated each other and mated to produce the expected number of heirs.
He wished a wife who sought their bed with enthusiasm and bore his children out of love.
Colin closed his eyes. Eric did not know how very lucky he was to have Faith. Their love was enduring and would last this lifetime and beyond… a forever kind of love.
Harold understood such a love. He gave it to Lady, and he would give it to the one he fell in love with. Unconditionally. Forever.
Colin faded off to sleep, love heavy on his mind.
Hope woke near dawn and stretched slowly beneath the covers. She had a restful sleep and her body felt good. No cramps, no pains or aches; she felt refreshed and the feeling brought a smile to her face.
The smile faded when she caught sight of Colin slumped over in sleep in a chair beside the bed. She instantly came awake, though she hovered protectively beneath the covers.
The previous night came rushing back to her and her heart set to beating irrationally. She had spent the night in Colin’s bed with him asleep in the nearby chair. This was not good. It was dangerous, much too dangerous.
She should be grateful that she had not woken at all during the night or talked in her sleep or any number of incidents that could have occurred with them in such close proximity. Her disguise at the moment, a linen tunic she assumed belonged to Colin, was too precarious. There was not a sufficient amount of clothing between him and her.
Her most pressing problem, though, was slipping out of the room without waking him. She wanted to place as much distance between them as possible, at least until she could dress and resume the role of the lad Harold. At the moment she felt too much a woman, and he was too much of an appealing man to completely ignore.
His body slumped in deliberate invitation. His muscles, while relaxed, possessed definitive structure that caught the eye and his long legs stretched out in welcome. And since Hope was not one to waste time or ponder whether her action was right or wrong, she focused a purposeful glance below his waist.
Her smile grew. He certainly seemed endowed from what she could see, a fact that naturally stirred her interest.
He moved restlessly in the chair before settling once again, and the thought that he would wake while Hope was in his bed set her into action.
She spied her clothes folded neatly near the fireplace and she leaned over the bed, certain she would find Lady sleeping beside it. She was surprised to see her sleeping at Colin’s feet and a sound sleep at that, since she snored lightly.
Hope quietly slipped from beneath the covers, hunching down beside Lady to wake her with a gentle tap and a finger to her mouth. She had learned quickly enough that this command meant silence.
Hope walked past Colin on tiptoes and Lady gave him a wide berth as she made her way past him to follow her master. With a snatch of her clothes from the bench she flew to the door.
Lords of the Kingdom Page 88