Moonstone

by Olivia Stocum

  He cleared his throat, his arms circling around her. “I might spend a few hours in the lists. Just to wear myself down.”

  “I understand.” Rhiannon kissed his face, stubble abrasive against her mouth. She rubbed her itchy lower lip against this jaw.

  “What will you do?” he asked.

  “Find Alice, go for a walk.”

  “Come watch me later?”

  She didn’t understand why he wanted her to watch him train, but she knew that Triona watched Ronan, and it seemed important.

  “I will come,” Rhiannon said.

  William tucked the plaid back around her, knotting it into place. She leaned in and kissed his neck, his shoulders, then rubbed her cheek against his chest, breathing in his scent. His entire body tensed against hers.

  “Maybe I’ll go jump in the loch,” he gritted.

  “There is snow on the ground. You will freeze.”

  “Precisely the point.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Rhiannon sat down next to Triona on a wooden bench off to the side of the training field. She propped her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands.

  “No dagger today?” Triona asked.

  “I am saving it for special occasions.”

  “So do I. Otherwise I might spoil Ronan.” She stood, catching her three year old. “Stay back, Brian. It is not safe.”

  “Wanna fight,” he said.

  “You are too little.” She picked up his wooden sword, handing it to him. “Fight your invisible dragons.”

  Brian spun in a circle, dark curls bouncing around his chubby face.

  “We didna see the two of you yesterday evening,” Triona said, taking her seat. “Or this morn for that matter.” She grinned.

  Rhiannon rubbed her temples.

  “Och, that does not look good. Want to talk about it?”

  “Nay.” Rhiannon felt as if she had already told Triona too much about their relationship. She wasn’t positive William hadn’t once entertained feelings for Triona, either. Rhiannon sighed, wondering what was wrong with her. She felt . . . Depressed? Let down? “Remember when we spoke of gentleness?” she asked.

  “Aye.”

  “He tried. He really did.”

  Triona blanched.

  “What can be done? I am glass and he is steel.”

  Triona glanced at Ronan, who was sparring four men at the same time. Brian mimicked his father’s movements. “Aye,” Triona said. “I can understand.”

  Ronan shoved one man backward into the turf, then disengaged himself from the fray and came off the field with a satisfied swagger. He swept Brian up and slung him over his shoulder. The boy bellowed out a battle cry, pounding his father on the back.

  “Help, I’m under siege.” Ronan pretended to stumble. Brian laughed as he held on and Ronan slammed onto the bench with the boy on his lap, wood creaking. “My lady,” Ronan nodded to Rhiannon. Brian squirmed, and he let the boy go.

  “Good day,” Rhiannon said, glad her voice no longer squeaked when she talked to him.

  Triona whispered to Ronan and his brow knit. Then he nodded and looked at Rhiannon. He softened his voice. “Triona and I had this made for you.” He pulled a dagger from his belt, handing it to her hilt first.

  Rhiannon took the weapon from Ronan’s sword-scarred hand. “’Tis lovely,” she said, testing the solid weight of it. The handle was set with various gems, including pearls, opals, and moonstones.

  “’Tis a welcome home present,” he said.

  Welcome home. She was home. But home wasn’t Scotland, and it wasn’t Ronan and Triona’s hall. It was the man she wanted so badly to be one with, but couldn’t.

  Triona reached behind the bench and pulled out a tooled belt. “We’re happy you’re here, and we want you to know it.”

  “Thank you.” Rhiannon sheathed the weapon, then stood and belted the fresh leather belt around her waist.

  “Just promise to use it,” Ronan said.

  “Aye.” She stared at the polished gems. “I will.”

  “Use it on William. He will like it.”

  Triona elbowed him.

  Rhiannon’s gaze flicked toward the field, where William was still clashing swords with Connor, then she sank back onto the bench, feeling defeated.

  “Poor Connor,” Triona said. “He takes the brunt of the abuse around here.”

  “’Tis good for him,” Ronan said. “Makes him better in combat.”

  Brian reached for Rhiannon’s dagger with small fingers. “Pretty.”

  Triona snatched him up.

  “Aye, you’ve your father’s eye aright, little lad.”

  Ronan took the boy from his mother and hung him over the crook of his arm. He had a strange way with children, but Brian loved it. He pounded on his father, giggling the whole time.

  “I am finished here for today,” Ronan said.

  Triona smiled sweetly. “So you are ready for nursery duty?”

  “Not quite what I had in mind.”

  While the couple discussed who was doing what next, Rhiannon watched William take note of her. He motioned to Connor and sheathed his sword.

  Mist surrounded the lumpy field and snowflakes floated in the air as he crossed toward her. She couldn’t say he had Ronan’s swagger. Nay, he moved like the jungle cat her father’s friend used to keep in a cage. It would pace all day long, brimming with unused energy.

  “We are going within,” Triona said.

  “I will see you later.” Rhiannon didn’t look away from William. She heard footsteps retreating along the path, along with the sound of Brian’s giggling.

  William stopped before her, and Rhiannon’s gaze slid over him, starting at his brown boots and working its way upward. He grinned and lifted a brow when she reached his face. Rhiannon stood, feeling warm and a little awkward. She found herself wondering what he would say if she asked him to retreat back to their chamber, just so she could take his shirt off.

  “Did you see my new dagger?” she said instead.

  “Aye, I saw it earlier. It looks good on you. Care to try it out?” He winced. “Perhaps that wasna entirely appropriate.”

  She shrugged, glancing away.

  “Look at me,” he whispered.

  When she did, he leaned in. Cradling the back of her head, he kissed her. He was warm in the cold air. He’d shaved, just like he said he would. She ran her fingertips over his jaw, then into his hair. Needing more, she kissed him harder.

  He laughed, letting her go. “This is not a good place for such things. We can perfect our skills later.” He smoothed her hair down and smiled. “Go for a ride with me. I want to show you the ruins of the castle that was here before Ronan built his hall. It belonged to my ancestors.”

  “You do not want to take a break from me?”

  “I already did that.” He rolled his shoulder. “’Tis not as cold today as it has been. Might not get another opportunity any time soon.”

  She wasn’t about to pass that up. Rhiannon had never experienced winter in the Highlands before, but she had the feeling the cold weather would get far worse before it got better.

  * * *

  Rhiannon stroked Jeremiah’s dark muzzle. “You have missed me, haven’t you? I know you have.”

  William leaned back against Jamie and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why don’t you come pet me,” he said.

  “I just did that.” She blushed, despite the wind on her face.

  “Men require more attention than horses.”

  “I am coming to that conclusion.” She moved away from Jeremiah. William caught up her hair as it blew around the both of them.

  “I should have braided it,” she said.

  “I like it loose.”

  William tucked her cloak closer against her neck, tightening the broach that held it in place. Taking her hand, he led her over rocky, heather-coated soil. The frozen ground crunched under her shoes.

  “One tower yet remains of my forefathers’ castle,” he said.
“We decided to keep it intact. We replaced the damaged stones and rotted supports.”

  “By we, you mean you and Ronan?”

  “Aye.”

  “The two of you restored it yourselves.”

  He shrugged. “We did have some help.”

  “But you got your hands dirty nonetheless?”

  “Aye.”

  “Do you prefer it here to your own home?”

  His fingers tightened against hers. “’Tis not that I dinna love my people.”

  She clutched her skirts in one hand as they stepped over shattered, moss-coated stones. “But you love them more, Triona and Ronan?”

  “Aye.”

  William’s eyes looked distant and her stomach clenched. His relationship with Triona had nagged her on and off, but she had hoped she was wrong. As he guided her over a pile of rocks, her shoe slipped and he caught her against his chest.

  “Do you love her?” she blurted. Rhiannon winced and wiggled against him. William swung her onto level ground.

  “What did Triona tell you?” he asked.

  She was horrified that he would immediately think of Triona. “Little. Just that it was hard for you when she married Ronan. It has more to do with how close you are. She knows things about you.”

  “Please didna get the wrong idea.”

  “Why would you feel the need to say that unless there was a wrong idea to be had in the first place?”

  William ran his hands through his hair.

  “You do love her.” Rhiannon took a step back. “For how long?”

  “Before she and Ronan . . .” He looked up at her, eyes apologetic. “Before you.”

  She took another step, tripped over a rock, and fell, her skirts heaping around her. William came down on his knees, then sat back on his heels, not touching her. “Are you all right?”

  “I have not yet decided.”

  “Did you hurt yourself, I meant.”

  “Just tell me now if there are any other women I should know about.”

  “Rhiannon, stop.” The wind blew and William tucked her skirts closer against her legs.

  “Um, thank you.”

  “I should have told you.”

  “That you have been in love with your best friend’s wife?”

  “’Tis not like that. I have known her longer than he has.”

  “You are not helping things any.”

  He eyed her. “I could have had her. But I chose to give her to Ronan instead. He needed her more than I did.”

  Rhiannon watched sparrows dart about in the air. One disappeared into a dark space in a dome-shaped pile of stones.

  “As if the whole affair was up to the two of you,” she said. “Do all men believe they own women?” A stone dug into her backside and she shifted away from it. William tucked his arms around her, helping her up.

  “Maybe I was afraid to tell you,” he said.

  “That you were in love with Triona. Yes, I could see why you would not want to tell me.” She lifted her chin to him.

  “I knew it could never be.”

  “But you were in love-”

  “I was. But not since you.”

  “The two of you never. I mean you never . . .”

  “Rhiannon,” he warned.

  “Right. I should not have asked.” Then she frowned and pointed. “Blast that. I want to know.”

  “Know what, if I ever bedded my best friend’s wife?”

  Her neck warmed. “Before she was his wife.”

  “Nay, of course not.” His eyes were dark.

  “Well, good then.”

  “One kiss.”

  “A kiss?”

  “One incredible kiss.”

  “Ah.” Rhiannon felt around for something to sit on.

  “It was years ago.”

  She planted her rump on a pile of stones and glared at him. “How am I to compete with her?”

  “Compete? Why would you have to compete?”

  “Because she . . . and Ronan . . .” It was embarrassing to say out loud. “It is rather obvious that they can’t keep their hands off each other. And here you are, shackled to me.”

  “I dinna blame you for it.”

  “Maybe I do. I want you.” She ran her hands over her hair.

  William scooped her off the ground, Rhiannon squeaking and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He looked her in the eye. “And that was all I ever really wanted.”

  “But I know you need more.”

  “If all I wanted was a woman, then I could find one easily.”

  She knew he could. Rhiannon surrendered and let him carry her toward the lonely guard tower. When he reached the top, he set her on her feet. She could tell she was exasperating him. His eyes were still dark and his face tight.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “For what?”

  “I do not know. Everything.” She sniffed. “And now I don’t know if I will ever be able to look at Triona the same way again.”

  “If you turn around, you can see the loch,” he said, watching her like she was losing her wits. She opened her mouth, but he turned her so that her back was against his chest, then wound his arms around her waist.

  “You make me more emotional than I usually am,” she said. “I did not cry once from the time my parents were killed, until I met you.”

  “I remember you crying when I pinned you to the ground after making you fall from my horse.” His arms tightened around her. “You were focused on survival before I came along. I have seen it before, in men who have fought bravely, then drink themselves into a stupor afterwards, crying into the bottom of their cup.”

  “I still say it is you.” She pulled from his arms. “I want to go back now. I . . . need to think.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  They sat around the supper table in the great hall, Ronan giving a dissertation on the art of the siege, and Triona frowning at William as if she wished there was some way she could fix all of his problems. Rhiannon poked at her pheasant with her new dagger.

  It hadn’t occurred to him to tell Rhiannon about Triona. Aye, he’d been jealous of what Ronan and Triona had, but he hadn’t felt the same about Triona since Rhiannon came into his life. He just didn’t see her in that way anymore.

  Someone kicked him from under the table. He looked up, and Ronan lifted his brows.

  “Rhiannon.” Triona stood and set aside her napkin. “My seamstress wanted to get a few more measurements from you. I think now is as good a time as any.”

  “More measurements? I thought she’d already made all of my new gowns.”

  “Well . . . you have put on some weight, and she wants to make alterations.” Triona blanched. “I didna mean that in a bad way.” She took Rhiannon by the hand and pulled her out of her chair. “We must not keep Fay waiting.”

  Rhiannon sheathed her dagger with her other hand, going with Triona like one who was about to have their tooth pulled.

  He hated that Rhiannon now saw Triona as competition.

  As they crossed the hall side by side, William noticed how Rhiannon’s greater height made Triona look like a sprite. Her dark red hair couldn’t have been more opposite Triona’s fair blonde. He liked the way Rhiannon’s full hips moved atop those long legs of hers.

  Ronan cleared his throat. “If you are finished lusting after your wife, which by the way, you have every right to do, I need to speak with you.”

  William eyed him. “Enjoying yourself?”

  “Aye, as a matter of fact, I am.” Ronan grinned and held out his hand. He held a gold ring set with an amethyst in his palm. “A gift.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but I am already married.”

  Ronan snorted. “’Tis for your bride. And considering what a gem she is, I would advise you place a ring on her finger for all to see and know that she is claimed.”

  William felt the wind release from his sails. “Aye. Thank you. I should have considered as much myself.”

  He should have considered a l
ot of things.

  William held the deep purple stone up to the firelight, not that he knew anything about gems, but it seemed shiny enough.

  “It was among my spoils,” Ronan said. “Triona never wears it.”

  “Thank you.” William put it into the pouch on his belt.

  “I suggest you think about how to give it to her. Women tend to get emotional when it comes to rings. Triona did.”

  “I’m not sure I know how. I am doing a lousy job at being a husband.”

  “So am I.” Ronan grinned. “You could ask Triona for suggestions on how to present the ring to her.”

  William rubbed the back of his neck. “She knows now. Rhiannon that is. She knows about Triona.”

  Ronan mouthed his wife’s name, then his eyes widened in recognition. “Och.”

  “Aye. And the timing could not have been worse.”

  “Perhaps the ring will help?”

  “And when she finds out it belonged to Triona first?”

  Ronan winced.

  “By the saints, but I have loused this up from the verra start.”

  Ronan clamped a hand on his shoulder. “No one could have done worse than I. The only fool is the man who gives up his jewel without a fight.”

  The stairway to William’s chamber seemed longer than usual. He opened his door, unsure whether or not Rhiannon was there yet. He saw her outline across the room, sitting on the window seat in her chemise. Her head was down and her hair cast around her. No candles were lit. Only the light of the fire illuminated the room, flicking over the wooden floorboards. William closed the door and crossed toward her. Unbuckling his baldric, he set it aside, then sat next to her.

  “I can believe that you no longer have feelings for her,” she said. “But I cannot believe that it is enough just to know that I want you.”

  She stood, and he wondered if it was in attempt to put some distance between them.

  “I wouldna betray you, if that is what you’re worried about.”

  She ran her hand over a bedpost. “I didn’t think you were the sort of man who would. But as long as we can’t be . . . together. I will look at her and know what you could have had. And I will know what I could have had, if only I had kept myself locked in my chamber that night.”