The Ward's Bride (Border Series Prequel Novella)

by Cecelia Mecca

  The earl’s son did not look convinced.

  “I know this is not easy for you, Lady Cora. If I were given no choice but to leave my home and reside in the Scottish Highlands for the remainder of my days…”

  He shuddered, and Cora laughed at the look of genuine disgust on his face. As servants hustled around them to make last-minute preparations for the mid-day meal, Cora re-considered her decision to retreat to her chamber.

  “But you’ve married an honorable man. The best one I know. And judging from my father’s assessment of your clan’s importance in brokering peace along the border, I can understand the need for such a match. But that does not mean adjusting will be easy…or smooth.”

  Adjusting. Perhaps it could be done. Her father may say otherwise, but aside from him, there was not one member of Clan Maxwell who wouldn’t understand her desire to leave England and go back home to Scotland, where she belonged. Where she would be reunited with her sister and her mother. Even her father, no matter how disappointed he’d be in her.

  Remembering her goal, Cora tried another tactic.

  “Our marriage was successful in keeping the peace, for now. But surely that will not last. It is only one day, after all.”

  “The Day of Truce? Aye. One day that will lay the foundation for others to follow.”

  He sounded like her father.

  “Adam wants to please you.” She wasn’t sure what had made her say that, only that it was true—and it was the reason she could not bring herself to follow her original plan.

  Richard raised his eyebrows. “I suppose he does.”

  “I leave you to your meal. Good day, sir.”

  Cora inclined her head and walked slowly up the stairs.

  She needed to be alone.

  She needed to go home.

  Adam entered the great hall and clenched his fists. His white-hot anger was directed at the most unlikely person. He couldn’t remember ever being this upset with Richard.

  Moments ago, he’d entered the keep to see Richard and his wife sequestered near the staircase, heads bent together in intimate conversation—something she’d withheld from Adam more often than not these last days. The sound of their murmuring had flitted to him across a room that, thanks to her, now smelled like germander. He rather liked the new smell.

  But he most assuredly did not like what he’d witnessed.

  “Richard!”

  Richard’s eyes scanned the crowded hall before landing on him. He raised a hand in greeting, but Adam did not follow suit. Instead, he stalked toward a small storeroom, glancing back only once to ensure that Richard had taken his silent cue to follow.

  “What the devil—”

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Richard took a step back and stared at him. Then promptly burst into laughter.

  “You think—”

  “What I think is that my wife seems to find more pleasure in your company…”

  He stopped. This was the very topic he’d hoped to avoid discussing with Richard—and he was the one who’d brought it up.

  All humor dropped off Richard’s face. “What is it, Adam?”

  How was he supposed to answer without embarrassing himself? Without disappointing the earl, who did not need any extra worries right now? He should have let the matter drop, but the sight of the two of them together…

  “I know you trust me,” Richard said.

  “Of course I do.” Adam ran a hand through his hair. “Jesus.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “Richard, I…” He wasn’t sure how he’d planned to end that statement, but he needn’t have worried.

  “I know about your agreement,” Richard said without mirth.

  “How?”

  “Secrets are not kept in a castle, and servants are less loyal to a new lord.” He clapped him on the back. “Adam, you’ve nothing to worry about. Your wife has not done anything untoward. Nor have I.”

  Of course not. The struggle of the last week—of staying away from her when he only wanted to be near her—had maddened him. “I’m not sure what came over me.”

  “‘Tis obvious, is it not?”

  Adam could only see a portion of Richard’s face in the darkened storeroom, but he knew what the man implied.

  “I am not in love with my wife. I hardly know her.”

  Richard remained silent.

  “I apologize.” The words felt so miniscule, but he had to say something.

  “What in the devil do you have to be sorry about?”

  “You and your father asked so little of me after I took so much.”

  “You can’t be serious, Adam.”

  Adam shook his head.

  “So that’s what your wife was getting at.” Richard grabbed his arm. “Listen to me. You are family. Father and I will never forsake you or cast you aside, no matter what.”

  “I have failed your father.”

  “Adam,” Richard raised his voice, “you’re not listening to me. You are one of us. You are a Caiser. It’s why you’ve been given this.” He gestured out the door with his hand. “It is your right. Do you understand me?”

  Adam looked at Richard’s face. Part of him had known these things, but it was different to hear Richard say it aloud. His heart thumped heavily in his chest.

  “If Cora Maxwell marched back to Scotland this very moment, you would still be lord of Langford. If you lost the damn castle to the Scottish, you would still be my brother.”

  Richard released his arm.

  Adam didn’t know what to say. He was rarely speechless, but he was afraid he’d embarrass himself if he spoke.

  “Now, go win that stubborn lass to your side. I’ve seen you do it with maids you didn’t love, so it should be an easy task.”

  Adam wanted to argue, but he was afraid Richard was right. He’d told himself that what he felt for Cora was simply lust. He’d never been denied by a woman he wanted this much.

  But it was more than that. Somehow he’d fallen in love with the woman who was determined to make his life hell. Who was deliberately goading him. Did she really think he’d set her aside?

  Never.

  He would simply have to redouble his efforts.

  “Richard, I need your help.”

  “Anything, brother. What do you have in mind?”

  8

  Four days after Richard’s arrival, Cora was no closer to going home. After realizing Adam was jealous, she’d hoped Sir Richard would unwittingly assist her in her mission, but her husband simply smiled every time she spoke to the earl’s son.

  Each night their routine was the same. And though he came to their chamber a bit later with Richard in residence, each night he asked about her day. Their quiet conversations were sometimes lighthearted, and others more poignant.

  He told her of the earl’s sickness, and Cora was genuinely sad for him. It was clear Adam saw the man more as father than overlord. And from what Richard had told her, and from the way he treated her husband, he truly was a part of their family.

  And though she slept in Adam’s bed, he had not touched her since that first night. Surely she was not disappointed. But as she lay next to him, Cora thought about his touch…the feeling of his lips on hers. Of his fingers inside her. While she knew she should be considering more ways to torment him, the memory of his caresses tormented her instead.

  Despite the temptation, Cora was determined not to relent. She would merely direct her thoughts elsewhere.

  When Adam had learned of her propensity for the bow, Cora had hoped he would allow her to train with the men. She’d done so back home, and her husband was accommodating in many ways. But on this, he would not budge.

  Until today.

  This morn, he’d left her a message to meet him in the training yard after she broke her fast. Walking swiftly through the courtyard, Cora waved to a knight she recognized from the evening before. The people of Langford had finally begun to accept her as one of their own. If only she
could do the same.

  “Welcome, my lady,” Richard called out as she made her way through the wooden gate of the training yard.

  She could hardly hear him over the clanging of swords. Adam, it seemed, was fond of this place. He’d spent much of his time here in the last few days, leaving administrative duties to the steward.

  “I’m told you requested my presence.” She addressed her husband, who was dressed casually in hose and a linen shirt that hung loosely around his tanned neck. Her traitorous heart skipped a beat—just as it seemed to do every time she spied the man.

  She found herself looking at his eyebrows. They were fuller than most, which gave him a foreboding appearance when he was serious. And he towered over every other man in the yard.

  She forced herself to look elsewhere.

  “Aye. A word if you please?”

  Adam guided her toward the armory. The men around them pretended not to stare, but it was evident they were not accustomed to a woman in the training yard.

  “This ends today, Cora.”

  This?

  “I propose a challenge.”

  “I’m sure I don’t understand.”

  His eyes pinned hers, the green specks sparkling in them. “Did you really think I would set you aside? Do you know how rare such a circumstance is in England? Perhaps it’s commonplace in Scotland, but when a man weds a woman here, he promises to love and protect her. For all time.”

  As he spoke, Cora felt the blood draining from her face.

  “So you do not deny it?”

  She was weary of lying to him. Of working against him, or trying to. “Nay, I do not.” She looked him straight in the eyes. “I want to go home.”

  The hurt in his eyes surprised her. He cared only for the land and title their union had brought him, did he not? But there was no time to mull it over—the fleeting expression was so quickly replaced with a look of anger, Cora was sure she had imagined it.

  “You want to go back to Scotland? Go.”

  Was he serious?

  “I challenge you to a contest, wife. One shot. If you are closer to the mark, I will send word to your father that I’ve appealed for a judicial separation.”

  Cora’s eyes widened. “Why would you do such a thing?”

  “I’ve no wish to spend my days with a wife whose only desire is to leave her husband’s side.”

  “But the agreement? Langford?”

  “I will worry about the repercussions. You will ensure your father will not retaliate.”

  She nodded readily. “Aye. I will do so. But you realize, Adam…” She didn’t want to voice it aloud lest he change his mind, yet she still found herself saying it, “You will be unable to remarry.”

  His expression did not change. “I have no need for a wife.”

  What does he mean by that? Cora wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  She took a deep breath. “And if you win, I will remain here, at Langford.” She had already started to walk away, eager to begin. To settle this matter once and for all.

  “Nay.”

  She spun back around.

  “Nay?”

  “As I said, I’d prefer a willing wife. If you win, you’re still free to leave.”

  She didn’t understand. Cora looked around, but no one other than Richard watched their discussion—and he was distant enough not to hear them. Did he know what Adam proposed? Nay, it would kill Adam to admit such a thing to a man he revered.

  “If I win, you will give me your virginity. Tonight.”

  Nay! She could not! “Adam…”

  “You know as well as I do that divorce is not possible. Neither of us has been abusive or unfaithful, and I’ve no desire to have a reputation for either. We will still be married either way. But I give you my word, I will tell no one the marriage was consummated. Provided, of course, a child is not conceived from our union.”

  “But if you choose to—”

  “Cora, look at me.”

  She did—and immediately wished she had not. The pain in his eyes was now so evident, she felt her own eyes fill with tears. She did not want to hurt him. Cora just wanted to go home, back to where she belonged. If only he…nay, Cora would rather live alone than with the pain of enduring a loveless marriage like her parents. And unlike her mother, she had neither kin nor friends to fill the void.

  “Either way, you can leave. On the morrow.”

  How could she best him with her hands shaking as they were? But he was giving her a way out. And she had no choice but to take it.

  “Very well.”

  At those words, Adam turned from her and spoke with the armorer. He returned a moment later with her bow. She took it from him and walked briskly to the target. Richard stood in front of it as if expecting her. The bow was usually a part of her, but today it felt foreign. Heavier than usual.

  “Good day, my lady.” Richard inclined his head. He was dressed more formally than Adam, in a dark blue tunic threaded with silver.

  “My lord.”

  Richard handed her one wooden arrow.

  “We will be using the 400-yard target, my lady. You will each loose one arrow at a time. The owner of the arrow deemed closest to the target will be declared the winner.”

  So, he knew about the contest, if not the terms. She nodded, anxious to begin.

  “Sir Adam has agreed to allow you first choice.”

  She glanced back at her husband, who stood so close behind her she could hear his even breathing. He was preparing, and she must do the same.

  Cora closed her eyes and imagined the target. When she finally opened her eyes and stepped to the line drawn in the dirt by Sir Richard, she was ready.

  Taking aim, Cora did not pause but instead pointed her arrow into the sky and let her shot loose. It sailed high before descending toward the target. She held her breath, realizing for the first time since she’d accepted the bow from Adam that the normally noisy training yard was completely silent.

  The English knights knew the rules of this contest even if they did not know the stakes.

  “A fine shot, my lady.” The gruff voice from behind her sent shivers down her back.

  She stepped aside and allowed Adam to replace her position.

  It was a good shot on the outermost edge of the center. From this position, it would be nearly impossible to defeat.

  Cora smiled until she realized what her shot likely meant.

  Richard handed Adam his arrow. Cora watched as he took aim, and for the first time since he had suggested the contest, she began to worry. His position was that of a man who knew the longbow well. She’d heard of her husband’s prowess in battle, of his mastery of the lance in tournaments, but she’d never seen him practice with the bow. She’d assumed his skill with the bow was passing fair. But Cora’s palms began to sweat as his shot descended and—unbelievably—grazed by her own, landing in the middle of the target. The bow slipped from her hand as the crowd cheered.

  She stared in disbelief.

  “How…”

  Before she could finish, her husband leaned toward her and whispered into her ear.

  “I look forward to seeing you later this evening, wife.”

  And then he strode from the yard without a backward glance. Activity slowly resumed around the yard, but Cora could not process what was happening around her. She could not do anything other than stare at his arrow.

  It was an impossible shot.

  “He is more skilled than I realized.” She said the words aloud to no one in particular.

  “You would be surprised, Lady Cora, at your husband’s many skills,” said Sir Richard. His crooked smile was the only confirmation she needed.

  He did know.

  The knave held out his arm and she took it. What other choice did she have? For, like her husband, Cora was a woman of her word. And though she would not be leaving in the exact manner she’d expected, this was, at least, her last night in England.

  Tomorrow she would be going home to her fami
ly.

  Adam’s hand stilled as he prepared to enter his bedchamber.

  Thanks to Richard’s plan, he had one more chance to convince Cora of how good they could be together. He knew Cora cared for him…desired him. Her eyes betrayed her even if she refused to admit it. And since he disentangled her each morning before she woke, Adam didn’t think his wife realized she slept against him each night.

  For a moment, he had worried tonight would not happen.

  Richard was so skilled with the longbow, he was called on to train men throughout Northumbria. Though her ability was impressive, Adam was sure his friend had only asked for her advice as a kindness, a way of drawing her out by playing to their common interest. Perhaps it’s what had first angered him about their camaraderie.

  Adam had learned some of Richard’s skill by proxy, but the longbow was not his weapon of choice. For the last three days, he had shot arrow after arrow until his hands ached and Richard begged him to stop to take a meal. He’d hardly seen his wayward wife, or anyone, with the exception of the other knights, whose curious looks had finally been mollified today.

  Though none but Richard knew why, of course. They only knew he trained with a vengeance and, by some miracle, was victorious.

  Damn if his wife hadn’t nearly bested him.

  She did not attend supper, and he knew from Clare that she had retired hours earlier to their bedchamber.

  When he opened the door, darkness greeted him.

  He inhaled, the scent of rosewood reminding him, as if he needed a reminder, of who occupied the room. Before Cora arrived at Langford, the castle and its keep had been well fortified but not particularly inviting. The small changes she’d made had begun to show themselves everywhere he turned. And though he was a practical man, Adam could appreciate the effort she’d put into improving a home she did not believe was hers.

  He would have to prove otherwise to her.

  As was his custom, no servants or attendants remained in the chamber. Its sole occupant sat in front of the fire sipping what he presumed was wine. Their nightly habit of drinking by the fire was one he planned to continue.

  First, he had to convince her to stay.

  He could see her clearly now. Navigating around a wooden chest, Adam stopped abruptly. Cora’s unbound hair flowed down her back and shoulders, but that wasn’t what had startled him. She wore the chemise from their wedding night. He remembered the feel of the soft silk and forced himself to breathe.