Marin obeyed, drawing in smaller breaths. She could not calm herself so easily though, not when Bran was not there. Not when she was not getting answers. Where was he?
The smaller breaths did help, at least.
Her door opened and her father walked in. He looked stronger than when last she'd seen him, the way she remembered. His beard was closely cropped and his silver-gray hair neatly combed. He stood for a moment staring at her, his eyes glittering with unshed tears.
“Dinna ye go upsetting the lass,” Isla warned.
Father put up a hand and nodded. “Marin,” he whispered.
“Bran. Where is he?” She couldn't stop the rapidity of her breath. It made her head spin and her ribs ache.
He sank into the chair beside the bed, the one Leila had been sitting in, and took her hand. The action made her feel like a little girl again with how his palm engulfed hers with his love and strength. “You love him, don't you?”
Marin tried to force herself to calm, as Isla had instructed, but it was impossible to do so. “Aye.”
“He risked his life to bring you home.” Her father's jaw flexed, the way it did when he was agitated. “You shouldn't have gone out there. You put yourself in considerable danger. Leila—”
“It wasn't her fault,” Marin said firmly. She regretted now having been so confused when she woke and unable to accept her youngest sister's apology. It was a wrong she would ensure was righted later that day.
“I would do it again,” she said. “I would leave again if it meant finding him and being with him.”
Her father winced as though she'd hit him.
“Father, I have spent my entire life giving to my family, doing everything–being everything–for everyone. I’ve done it gladly and with the whole of my heart.” Her words came out breathy and jagged with her shallow breathing. “But leaving to be with my husband was the only thing I've ever done for myself.”
Her father rose to his feet. Marin watched him with trepidation, fearful of what his next words might be.
“Bran made me realize something the day I released him and cast him out of the castle.” He tucked his hands behind his back and paced about the narrow room. “You are no longer a girl, but a woman. You've been a woman since before you should have been. Because I failed you.”
He stopped and lowered his head. She could not make out his expression, but it took a long moment before he spoke again. “I lost myself to my grief, first when your mother died and even in these past years when I haven't been here. You've taken on the responsibilities she left behind, and those I'd inadvertently pushed upon your shoulders. Bran was right. You are no girl to be ordered about by her well-intentioned, yet wayward father. You are a woman, powerful in her own right and capable of making her own decisions.”
He turned to her and swallowed. “I will not fail you again, Daughter.”
“Bran?” she whispered.
He nodded. “He is being summoned from the practice yard. This time while you've been resting, he has been treated not as a prisoner, but as a guest.”
Marin gave a shuddering exhale and scarcely acknowledged the streak of agony it produced in her lungs.
“Ena?” she gasped out.
“She is on her way as we speak.” Marin’s father smirked. “With Kerr’s gross misuse of his power, I was able to quickly summon all the wardens together. He was all too easy to deal with when confronted about his plans to take my castle. The other wardens sided with me. Kerr will be punished appropriately, and Sir Richard was sent to where Ena was being held captive to bring her here. I came home as quickly as I could, out of my concern for you.”
Marin closed her eyes in relief. “Thank you. You have saved her life.”
“She is an innocent in all of this. As was Bran.” The earl stared down at Marin and his face softened. “I have a wedding present for you.” He smiled now, the loving grin she knew so very well. “The castle and lands in Kendal, the one we visited when you were a child, if you remember.”
She did remember. The sun’s heat on her face, the sweet perfume of roses around her in the sculpted garden, the ornate beauty. There had been happy times at Kendal Castle.
“They are yours,” her father said. “For you to go to with your husband. For his sister and her new husband to be safe. I have already made arrangements to hire more servants there and have accommodations made ready for your new life.”
Marin blinked, unsure what she could possibly say in gratitude for such generosity and understanding. “Father, it is so much.”
His brow furrowed with concern. “Are you unhappy?”
A choked cry emerged from her heart. “I could not be happier with your generosity, Father. You have given me everything.”
“As you have for me.” He approached her bed and gingerly embraced her. “I love you, Marin.”
“And I love you too, Papa.” She had not used the girlish endearment in more than a decade. It filled her heart to do so now and brought tears to her father’s eyes.
“Marin.” The deep, familiar voice of her husband interrupted the embrace.
Her father cleared his throat and eased back. For the first time since she thought her husband lost to her, Marin laid eyes on Bran.
Bran ran to his wife's bed as the earl drew away with a smile. The older man nodded at him and left the room with Isla, leaving Bran and Marin alone.
“Marin,” Bran said again. He wanted to say her name over and over again, to reassure himself she was here. With him. Alive.
“My father told me the most joyous news.” She beamed up at him in the beatific way he remembered.
“Ena is safe.” Though he said the words, he still did not believe them. He could not until he saw her standing in front of him.
“Aye.” Marin held out her hand and he took it. “She will be safe with us as well, for father is giving us a castle near the sea that once belonged to my mother.”
He gently drew his arms around her, fearful of causing her pain. She was sweet and precious in his hold, the way he remembered. Her head came to rest on his chest, and he found himself stroking the silky length of her hair before he realized what he was doing. He wanted to touch all of her, to ensure himself this moment was real and not yet another dream.
He'd had too damn many of those. They'd been so vivid, each time he'd rushed from his chamber, sure he would find her sitting up and fully recovered. Once he'd found she had developed a fever instead, and he sat with her the two days it took to finally loosen its grip on her hot, reddened cheeks.
“I thought I'd lost ye, Marin.” His voice clogged with emotion. “When I realized that battered lass on the ground was ye.” He gritted his teeth to fight for control. “There were so many times after. When ye became so still on the way here, when I saw the extent of yer injuries, when ye developed a fever. And all the while, even as I feared losing ye, I could never regret having let myself love ye.”
“I love you with all my heart, Bran.”
“Ach, I know it.” He closed his eyes and reveled in the feel of her in his arms. “A wee bit too much, judging by yer attempt to try to find me. It was reckless and impulsive and—”
“You would have done the same for me,” she said against his chest.
“Aye.” The love he had for her was so great, it welled in his throat and made his voice tight. “I would do anything for ye.”
“With good fortune, neither of us should face such circumstances to save the other again.”
He stared down at her and imagined her in their new life. In a castle where the land was safe, and the border territory was only a distant memory.
“What are you thinking?” she pulled her head from his chest and glanced up at him.
“I'm wondering what our life will be like together in our castle.” He ran his thumb over her cheek where the discolored bruise was fading to a deep yellow. “And I wonder what ye want out of our life.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ye've never tho
ught about what ye want, Marin. Ye've always done for others.” He let his thumb brush over her lower lip. “This is our life and I want ye to think of yerself for once.”
She smiled. “I have what I want.”
“But there is more. Ye could take up gardening.” He kissed her gently. “Ye could swim out in the sea like a selkie.” He kissed her now-smiling mouth. “We could have children.”
“Aye,” she breathed. “Children.” The simple word made her smile with wonder at the idea of having her own, ones who looked like a perfect mix between her and Bran. A sweet babe to cradle in her arms, as she had with Leila all those years ago.
“We should try for them soon.” She slid a coy look up at him.
“When ye’re healed,” he replied gruffly.
Her fingers ran down his chest to his abdomen. “We can stay in our chambers late every morning and retire early every night. Mayhap even in the afternoon.”
“The afternoon?” He dropped his jaw with exaggerated shock. “Ach, next thing ye’ll be suggesting is Friday, or some other day not sanctioned for copulation.”
Her brow quirked upward like a shameless flirt. “Every last day of the week.”
He held her face in his hands and kissed her, so glad to have her safe and in his arms, and so eager to see what their new life would bring them. If nothing else, he knew there would be passion and love and happiness.
“Bran.” A familiar voice called his name from the doorway.
He froze. Ena. He released Marin and spun around to find his sister rushing toward him. Her long dark hair was bound back, and her slender face was clean. She did not appear to have any bruises indicating beating, or other signs of misuse.
He took his sister in his arms. She squeezed him with impossible strength. “Ye saved me.” She released him and blinked back tears. “My Renault will be joining us soon.”
She glanced around Bran. “Is this Marin?”
Marin smiled. “Aye. It is good to meet you after all this time, Ena.”
“Thank ye, my lady.” Ena bobbed an uncomfortable curtsy.
“Marin,” Marin corrected. “Please. We are sisters and there is no greater joy in all the world than a sister.”
“Mayhap a brother.” Ena grinned at Bran, then back at Marin. “Or mayhap even love.”
“Or mayhap children.” Bran reached for Marin’s hand while he held his sister’s shoulders secure in his right arm.
Regardless of where the love came from, or whether the person was noble or poor, they all found wealth in joy. And Bran knew himself to be the richest man in all the world.
Epilogue
March 1336
Kendal Castle
Marin closed her eyes and tilted her face to the heat of the sun. The air was cold with the last of the winter chill, but it was a lovely contrast.
“Ye look bonny.” Bran's voice sounded beside her.
She opened her eyes to find him smiling down at her. A breeze blew in through the open window and ruffled his dark hair.
“This castle suits ye, as does the land here.” He drew her into his arms where his skin was warm despite the coolness in the air.
“This was my mother's favorite castle. We have many fond memories of visiting here.” Marin glanced to the dormant gardens below and could almost see her mother's golden head bent over a bush filled with massive roses. Leila had inherited her way with plants, a skill Marin had always envied.
“Why dinna yer da bring ye here instead?”
She tore her gaze from the garden and let her stare fix out on the glittering sea in the distance instead. “Werrick Castle was too important. With Father being Warden, he had to remain there, and Mother could not stand for us to be separated. Their love was greater than any ever known.” She smiled at Bran. “At least for their time.”
He gave a deep chuckle against her ear and snuggled her closer.
A baby squalled in the distance. Ena’s new son, who was ready to eat nearly every hour. The poor woman had finally conceded to hire a wet nurse just to get a moment’s rest.
The boy brought great joy to the castle, as well as renewed hope for Marin that she and Bran might soon have their own child.
“It would be a wonderful place to raise children.” She ran her palm over her flat stomach. “Someday.”
He swept her hair away from her shoulder and kissed her exposed neck. “Someday if God wills it. Until then, we will continue to pursue our efforts in conceiving.” There was a playful, sensual undertone to his voice.
Mayhap with another man, Marin might have been more discouraged by her inability to bear a child in three years’ time. But with Bran, with his unwavering love and the beautiful, peaceful life they lived together, the issue had not been one of great import. How could it be, when her life was so perfectly happy?
A sharp knock came from the door. “Stay here,” Bran said in her ear. “I’ll send them away.”
And send them away he did, but when he returned to her, he held a missive in his hand. Anice’s neat writing spelled out Marin’s name.
He held the note aloft with a wicked grin. “A kiss for a letter, my love.”
Marin laughed and gave him a kiss as she pulled the folded parchment from his fingers. She unfolded the note to find Anice’s neat writing had gone sloppy.
“She says she does not know if we will receive this,” Marin said as she read the note. “She wants me to know they have been under siege from the Grahams, but that all will be well, for she has a plan.”
Bran leaned closer, the playfulness gone from his expression. “Does she say what she intends to do?”
Marin read on and shook her head. “Only that this is to warn us not to come until she tells us it is safe to do so.”
Bran ran his hands down Marin’s arms. “I fear for the Grahams being at the mercy of yer sisters.”
“This is serious,” Marin chided.
“Aye.” Bran held her face in his hands and met her gaze. “The curtain wall is strong, and yer family is resourceful. Dinna forget Drake is there and still has connections on the Scottish side, aye?”
It was true: Drake had remained at Werrick Castle. Sir Richard had deemed himself too old to ride into battle and Drake had been eager to fill the role when Marin’s father had offered him the position of Captain of the Guard. The Earl of Werrick had always been one to recognize skilled warriors.
“We will find out more details,” Bran said. “All will be well, my love. I’ll send a runner today.”
Marin nodded.
“All will be well,” Bran said once more. This time the reassurance sank into Marin’s heart.
She nodded again with more conviction.
“And if ye need someone to need, I’m here for ye, lass.” He winked at her.
She couldn’t help but smile at such an offer. Because he had always been there for her, his strong arms open to ease away her fears, his smile there to lift her spirits.
Everything would be well with Bran at her side. Even this.
He was her husband, her love and the best promise she ever kept.
* * *
Thank you for reading MARIN’S PROMISE! I read all of my reviews and would love to know how you enjoyed MARIN’S PROMISE, so please do leave a review.
Check out Anice’s story in ANICE’S BARGAIN where Anice realizes the only way to save her family, is to marry a Graham reiver.
One-click ANICE’S BARGAIN
ANICE’S BARGAIN
Anice Barrington, the most beautiful of the Earl of Werrick’s daughters, will stop at nothing to protect her family during a siege, including offering herself as bride to her enemy.
James Graham has grown weary of a life of destruction and longs for peace. While marriage to Anice offers a new opportunity, it comes at a high cost.
Forced together by desperation and held by passion, will love take root, or will the bitterness between enemies tear them apart?
***Keep reading for a first chapter preview of ANICE’S BARGA
IN**
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ANICE’S BARGAIN
Chapter 1 Preview
March 1336
Brackenhill, England
It was not their first siege, but it was certainly their longest. The Grahams were determined.
Lady Anice Barrington, second daughter to the third Earl of Werrick, regarded the dismal larder with her father at her side. Their gazes were mutually fixed on the lone sack of grain.
“The last,” he muttered. His brow furrowed into a complex map of creases, carved by a life of sorrow and hardship.
“Is there nothing else?” Anice asked. The large red brown dog sitting near her feet shifted and gave a low whimper as though he could understand their dismal discussion. Piquette was not allowed to receive his own ration of food and so Anice split her meager portion with her beloved pet. It was hardly enough to fill either of them. They were left persistently desperate with hunger, though neither offered up complaint.
Nan, the cook of Werrick Castle, crossed her arms over her chest in a show of authoritative knowledge. “Nothing left save any new vegetables we manage to grow in the garden, my lady. But they get eaten as soon as they’re plucked from the earth.”
“We’ll need to reduce food distribution.” The earl nodded absently to himself, content with his decision.
Nan cast Anice an anxious glance, the steel in her back melting. “We’ve already done that several times. The people are starving.” The cook had once been round and plump, the way one in her position ought to be—or so Nan had said. The lean months, however, had left her sharp chin jutting from sagging skin and her kirtle swinging around her once generous frame. They were all too thin, too hungry.
Marin's Promise (Borderland Ladies Book 1) Page 27