by K. E. Saxon
“My dearest sister,” it began.
“Do not believe that you have escaped from our little games so easily, for there’s much I’ve yet to teach and much you’ve yet to learn.
“As I told you so often in my previous letters, I do not take kindly to those who thwart me. But you are lucky, little one. For I’ve a taste for you that has yet to be quenched and so, you see, I cannot yet destroy you as had been my first inclination.”
Alyson’s hands began to shake so uncontrollably that the writing became blurred. “Oh, God. Oh, God,” she whispered. ‘Twas a prayer. She numbly turned and laid the letter down on top of the bed and leaned over it, continuing to read.
“Did you know that I saw you and Reys that morn at the edge of the wood? I thought I’d stumbled upon a lovers’ tryst, but ‘twas only some dull maneuvering of clothing—you must enlighten me on that tidbit the next we meet.
“Has the troubadour not had" you yet, then, my little dove? Not heard your cries and whimpers as he fucks you noisily in the dark of the night?
“Do you miss me, then?”
She shuddered. “No! Never!”
“Earlier, when I saw you in the chapel, so frightened to look me in the eye, my blood raged to have you beneath me, as we used to do. Oh how I enjoyed those battles we had before you at last surrendered to me.”
Her eyes pooled with tears and she bit her trembling lip until she tasted blood. A visceral memory of the pain he’d caused her each time he’d taken her by force made her womb burn in reaction. I hate you, she thought.
“And, once I’ve gotten this nuisance of a wedding out of the way with the black-haired whelp, then ‘twill not be long before we can begin again where we last were. Will you not like that, dear one?
“Did you know that there is also a demand in King John’s letter that you bear your husband an heir within a year of your wedding, else the contract shall be annulled,” “Godamercy!” she said, lifting her eyes to stare blankly a moment at the wall in front of her. Then, compelled to read further, she lowered her eyes once more to the letter and continued reading: “and you will be given back to me, your guardian brother?” “NO! Reys will never let that happen,” she cried. “I’m sure ‘twas this, more than the matter regarding his sister, that sent your husband to his cousin in such haste, for you came with quite an estate attached, did you not? And, lest you are of an inclination to believe the letter a forgery, I assure you, ‘tis not.
“Let us speak of this face-to-face. Meet me at midnight tonight at the boulder you hid behind that day near the wood.”
And ‘twas signed, “Your ‘loving’ brother, Gaiallard”
* * *
“Aye, ‘tis a sad day indeed.” Lady Maclean said softly on a sigh. She and her daughter, as well as Maryn, Jesslyn and Alyson, were seated in the solar. Their tapestries and other sewing were settled on their laps, but none of them had put a stitch in any of their projects in many long minutes.
“Callum will win,” Maryn said. “He’s been training with Daniel and Bao for two moons now—and he was already so skilled.”
“Yes,” Alyson said softly, “he will win.” For she had a plan, a plan that had been brewing in her mind since she’d first read the letter from her detestable, wicked brother earlier. No matter what, Gaiallard would not win that trial.
“Aye, I pray you are right,” Maggie said thickly. Her eyes were red and puffy from the tears she’d been shedding since Callum gave Gaiallard the challenge. “But, the bairns....”
“Bao and I want to take them with us to raise, Maggie. If...,” Jesslyn said softly, unable to finish the thought. “Bao is going to speak to Callum about it later.”
Maggie smiled sadly. “You are a dear lass, Jesslyn.”
“Hardly a lass, m’lady,” Jesslyn said, “as I’ve two bairns, buried one husband and wed another.”
Maggie patted her hand. “Aye, but you are still so young—I cannot think of any of you young ones as anything but lasses and lads!”
“‘Tis glad I am that Bao will ease Callum’s mind about the future of his bairns, should he not survive the trial,” Lady Maclean said. “For, ‘tis not uncommon for a warrior to have the burden of worry so heavy upon him that he makes mistakes in his judgments on the battlefield—and loses his life.”
“Oh, Lord, I had not thought of that, Grandmother Maclean!” Maryn said. “But, you are right. Daniel has told me stories of men he’s trained or gone into battle with who have been given news of home—whether good or bad—just before a battle begins, and they are so distracted by it, that they make mistakes they normally would not have made and are either maimed or killed because of it.”
Branwenn leaned against the wall, just outside the door of the solar and gnawed on her knuckles. She’d heard the entire exchange and now there was more for her to ponder and worry over. After a moment, she whirled and fled back up the stairs to her chamber.
* * *
Branwenn chewed on her bottom lip as she paced back and forth in her bedchamber a quarter-hour later. Then, as if that nibbling could not stem the crushing dread in her soul, she began gnawing at the fingernail on her right thumb.
What was she to do? Should she tell Callum of their babe this eve, as had been her plan since discovering the blessed state two morns past? Or, would that worry his mind to such a degree that he might lose the battle against Gaiallard? Oh, God! What if it did—what if he died because she’d given him yet another worry to think on when he needed to concentrate on winning against Gaiallard?
And, if Callum was killed—how could she allow that Norman swine to raise his bairn?
If only she could get some advice from Grandmother Maclean! That lady always knew the answer to any trouble Branwenn had ever brought to her. But, what if she insisted on telling her brothers? What would they do? Would they risk their own lives then to keep her and her babe here with them, if Callum did not win the day? I beg you, Lord, let him win the day! she prayed for what must have been the thousandth time.
Nay, she must keep silent, she decided. No one could know of this babe until after the joust two days hence, not even Callum. For, she’d rather live with the guilt of having not told him—allowing him to go to his grave not knowing his seed had taken root in her—than live with the towering guilt of knowing she might have caused his death by telling him such before the trial.
With that decision made, she set about planning the midnight tryst she’d be having with Callum in the cave that night. Understanding that this might be the last time they were ever together, she’d decided to bring quite a few tapers, for she would do this thing for him this night—as she’d sworn to both him and herself that she would do on their wedding night. This would be the night that she allowed him to see her at last; allowed him to see the ugly mark on her thigh. She only prayed she would not lose her courage.
Nay, she would not, could not do so. For she’d given him a vow and she would not break it. Not tonight, when all could be lost for evermore in two days’ time.
* * *
“Are you prepared for this Callum?” Bao asked him as they stood just inside the arched entry to the training field. “There is a chance, tho’ I’ll admit, I believe it to be very slim, that Gaiallard will win the day.”
Callum nodded grimly. “Aye.” Looking toward the lists, he said, “Let us practice the maneuver you showed me one more time. I want to be sure I can perform it well.”
“I have another one I learned during a tournament two years past. I believe, if it’s done properly, and with just the right thrust, you can topple your opponent from his horse rather easily.”
Callum narrowed his eyes at Bao. “Why did you not show me this before, cousin?”
Bao gave him a sheepish grin. “I thought to save some surprises for the day I met Daniel on the lists!”
“You were going to challenge Daniel?”
“Aye. Why not? It seemed like a good exercise for both of us. And it would be rather comical, I thought, to hold rans
om his armor, do you not agree?”
“But, you were to be my Kipper....”
“Aye, but did that mean I could not joust as well?”
Callum shrugged. “I suppose not.” Turning the subject, he asked, “Where was Reys going in such haste earlier?”
“Off to Cambria he flies, to see his cousin. He’s sure the letter Gaiallard carries is a forgery, but needs to see the contract his cousin holds with the English king’s signature and seal on it before he can be sure. He’s to bring it back here to compare the two side-by-side.” Bao placed his hand on Callum’s shoulder. “No matter what happens, cousin, Branwenn will not wed that Norman, Reys is set on that. We may not be able to keep her here with us if all does not end as planned, but she will not be tied to that deviant. Reys gave Daniel and me his oath while you were with Branwenn earlier.”
“Good, that eases my mind.”
Bao cleared his throat. “About Laire and David...Jesslyn and I want to take them, raise them, if...” He shrugged.
Callum gave him a relieved smile. “My thanks, cousin. I’d hoped to ask you, as you are Laire’s godparents, to do just that, but it pleases me more that the offer to take both of them came before I had to request it.” He paused, rubbing the base of his palm over his cheek. “‘Tis important to me that Laire never be allowed to live with her Gordon kin, but I fear Laird Gordon may insist upon it. Do all that you must to keep it from happening.”
Bao’s eyebrows lifted in question. “All right,” he agreed. “Why?”
Callum sighed and placed his arms akimbo. “I believe—tho’ I’ve no proof—that Lara was meddled with in much the same way as Alyson when she was a bairn. I know not if ‘twas a member of her family, or someone else, but I think ‘twas what caused much of her selfishness and brazen behavior toward men.”
Bao nodded. “I confess, I’d never thought of such before, but, hearing this from you now, I see how you could be right. For there were several such women I knew during the time I was at the Procuress’s house.”
“So you see why it would ease my mind to know that Laire will not ever reside there,” Callum said. “Of course, I will need to send word to Robert, but I think that he will not fight me on this decision for you and Jesslyn to take his nephew to raise.”
“It’s agreed, then,” Bao said. Shoving Callum ahead of him, he said, “Go, soldier. To the lists!”
* * *
CHAPTER 14
She wore her sea faery clothing to the cave that night. For some reason, she thought it appropriate to do so—after all, they’d never met in the cave as Callum and Branwenn; always it had been Callum and Mai, or fey Mai, as he liked to call her.
And Branwenn wanted what might be their last night together to be filled with magic. Tho’ just the thought of once again feeling Callum’s mouth on her bare skin, of having him deep inside her, of knowing that she gave him pleasure, was magical in itself.
And tonight, he’d see the thing she’d been hiding from him since their first time together. Please, Callum, she thought, love me in spite of it!
She was surprised to find that Callum must have already been here earlier, for there were several layers of furs laid out against one wall of the cavern, near where he’d lain when he’d dropped from the ceiling that fateful day last summer. On top of the furs, he’d spread a sheet of linen and placed a folded woolen blanket on top of that.
She walked closer to it and stared down at the lush bed he’d prepared for them. There were four pillows and—she leaned down, her lit taper out before her—rose petals! She smiled happily, a warm thrill of joy spreading out from her heart’s center into her whole being. Oh, Callum! I do love you!
For that, he truly did deserve as many lit tapers as she could find places for about the bed.
* * *
“You are here,” Callum said as he walked the last few steps into the cave from the passage. When Branwenn turned toward him, he opened his arms to her.
She ran to him and propelled herself into him, holding tight. “I thought you’d never get here!” she said against his chest.
Callum smiled down at her, stroking his hand over the silky-soft hair on her head and letting it trail down the back, finally coming to rest between her shoulder blades. “Are you Mai, then?” he asked, at last noticing what she was wearing. “Will you be taking me back to your faery kingdom, as you once threatened?”
She shook her head, her cheek rubbing against the rough material of his woolen tunic. “Nay, tho’ I wish with all my heart I could—we could—just fly away from here and live out our lives together as we’d planned.”
He leaned back a bit and cupped her cheeks in his hands, bringing her chin up, forcing her to look him in the eye. “We will live out our lives together as we planned. I swear this to you. We must. For God will surely give me the strength, the cunning I need, to beat that devil and get him from our lives for good.”
“I pray—have been praying—that you are not wrong.”
Callum looked around the cavern chamber. “Branwenn! There must be o’er a hundred tapers in here—tell me you did not take them from the chapel?” he teased.
She shrugged and dipped her head. “Nay,” she said softly, “they were given me by your mother this day past for our”—her voice cracked—“wedding night.”
Callum curled his fingers under her chin and rested his thumb on top of it. With a nudge, he brought it up so that he could see her countenance once more. “‘Tis perfect, then, do you not see? For this is our wedding night.”
“Aye, tho’ ‘twas never blessed by the priest, I feel the same. We are wed, and this is our wedding night.”
“Come, my love, let us settle upon our wedding bed where we can be more comfortable, for I’ve much to say to you before we join our bodies at last—and once again—to consummate this union.”
Branwenn nodded and allowed him to lead her by the hand to the bed of furs. After he’d positioned himself upon it with his back against the cave wall and two pillows behind him as a cushion, he settled her between his legs, her back resting on his chest, his arms wrapped around her and tucked under her breasts. “Lord, you feel so good,” he rumbled against her ear.
She nodded. “Aye,” she agreed. “You, as well.”
They sat in silence for several moments, each lost in their own thoughts and enjoying the close contact they now shared.
“Did Jesslyn tell you that she and Bao want to take Laire and David to raise, if I am killed two days hence?” Callum asked softly.
Branwenn tensed. “You swore you will not die!”
“Aye, and I surely plan to do all I can to live. But, Branwenn, there is always the chance, no matter how small we believe it to be, that all will not go as we believe. Therefore, we must think of our bairns.” He gave her a light squeeze. “Do you object to your brother and Jesslyn taking them?”
“Nay.” She tipped her head up and to the side, looking up at him. “But what of our vow to Isobail? We swore that we would raise David and now we are forced to foster him to Bao and Jesslyn. Do you think Isobail would not approve, be angered?”
Callum rested his head back against the wall and thought on that a moment before answering at last. “Nay,” he said with a shake of his head, “she would not. Not knowing all that we know and seeing that we are acting in good honor and to ensure justice.”
Branwenn’s brows furrowed. “Reys came to see me in my bedchamber before he left. He’s sworn that, no matter what happens, my cousin and he will never allow a union between me and that depraved Norman to whom I was once betrothed.”
“Aye, and neither will Daniel or Bao, that is certain. They will each challenge the man to the same trial as I have done, should I lose this battle and my life, and aught happens which undermines Reys’s promise.”
Branwenn sat up straight. “Nay! They must not! I will go with the Norman before I let that happen.”
“Sshhh, love, no need to fret now, for I do not intend to lose this trial.”
Callum leaned down and pressed a kiss first to her cheek and then moved up to her ear, nibbling and stroking the outer perimeter with his tongue and teeth. “I’m remembering that day in this cave—do you recall?” he said, his voice a rumble and his breath hot and moist against the inside of her hearing canal.
Branwenn had no idea why she did so, but she blushed. ‘Twas hot and it stung her cheeks. Why, after all they’d shared, the memory of the first time they’d been together, of what she’d demanded, of what he’d offered, should suddenly make her shy, she could not fathom. But it did.
“Aye,” she whispered with a nod.
“I’ve often wondered—what made you request such a thing of me?” He tightened his hold around her, bringing her buttocks more snugly against him. This is when she realized the extent of his arousal. Her own body readied in response and some of her timidity fell away.
She felt a tickle on the side of her cheek and she rubbed it against her shoulder. “Umm,” she began. “Well...”
“Aye—what? Tell me,” he urged.
Her heart pounded. But, she wanted to tell him, be honest with him. For, this might be their very last time together alone and she wanted him to know her, really know her, as if they’d been wed for fifty years and there was naught else to learn, and all was comfortable, as some of the old couples she’d known in the Maclean village had been. Aye, ‘twas what she wanted. To be the wife she would have been to him fifty years from now. No secrets.