“It could be worse, to grow old alone.”
“Do you think he would allow me to bring Moyran with me?” Cara considered wistfully. An older man might appreciate a ready-made family.
“She is safe here, Cara, and happy. Are you sure that is what is best?”
Cara lifted her head, her eyes stinging. She wiped her cheeks. “What is best?” she huffed. “Isn’t it obvious that I’ve much to learn in that area?”
“Dinna be so hard on yourself, Cara. What happened is in the past. You are older now and able to make your own judgments.”
Cara thought for a moment and nodded. “I wish Father thought as much.”
“’Tis unfortunate that your choices are what they are,” Kiernan remarked.
Cara caught a movement from the corner of her eye and turned to watch Moyran at play. Would she have done anything differently had she been able to?
5
LOST. DAY AFTER DAY, FOLLOWING THE SAME routine, Cara felt no more comfortable being cast as the wayward daughter, estranged from her own parents in their house, than she was in not being able to be a mother to her own child. She found herself spending more and more time alone, taking long walks through the woods between the two households, seeking solace for the loneliness inside her. Today, on her way to Kiernan’s, she’d chosen a path less traveled closer to the edge where the English and Gaelic boundaries met. Nestled deep in the woods, she discovered a secluded pond and paused to rest her weary form in the arms of the grassy bank.
“Imagine meeting you again, after all this time.”
Cara opened her eyes, startled to find Gregory leaning against a tree, watching her. She bolted upright from her nap.
“I did not wish to disturb your sleep. You looked so peaceful,” he stated with a pleasant smile.
The last time she’d seen him had been that fateful night three years ago. It seemed an eternity now. The thought crossed her mind that he might have stayed in contact with Edmund. She stood, brushing the grass from her gown, aware that she’d perhaps strayed too far off course this time. “My apologies, is this your land? I was walking and must have wandered too far.”
Gregory tossed a twig into the water. “It’s quite all right. My father’s land, really, that of Dublin castle, meets against this line of woods. But you’ve no reason to be alarmed. I’m glad to see you again.”
Cara was aware from listening to her father speak about the English that it was Lord DeVerden who lived in Dublin castle. “You are Lord DeVerden’s son?”
He gave a short laugh. “Guilty as charged.” He bowed low and came up smiling. “I’ve never given my position much thought, to be truthful, Cara.”
She eyed him, uncertain whether to believe what she remembered about him. He did appear more like a man, and certainty as to his physical features…
Cara looked away, suddenly aware that she’d been staring.
“The years have been kind to you, Cara. You are still as beautiful as I remember.”
Overwhelmed by his presence and mindful of his social position, she held her tongue, unsure what power he welded. She watched a dragonfly skirt along the water’s surface. A fish leaped from the water, snapping the bug in its jaws before disappearing into the dark depths.
“Cara, I can understand why you would not be able to find it in your heart to look at me, much less speak to me. I behaved horribly to you when last we saw each other. You are well, then?”
His questions, too intimate, unnerved her. “I am well, thank you.” She bent down to retrieve her shoes. “If you will excuse me, sir, I must be going.”
“Must you?” he asked, taking a step toward her. “You have not even asked how I am, or about Edmund.”
Cara’s heart stopped at the mention of Edmund. “Forgive my manners, milord. I hope you are well, but I must take my leave. My sister will be expecting me.”
“Ah,” he said with a look of resignation. “Then you still carry feelings for him.”
She met Gregory’s steady gaze, stopping herself before she could blurt out that Edmund was, after all, the father of her child. She had no reason to believe she could trust this man to get word to him that he had a daughter, despite the fact that Gregory was her only connection to him. But the urge was powerful, just the same, to reveal her secret. “He is taking his orders?” she asked instead. Time had dulled the pain of his leaving, and Cara had finally resigned herself that he’d come to his senses, seeing the danger of fighting the law and betraying his king.
“It was strange,” Gregory responded. “The last I knew from Lord Collier, Edmund was living in a monastery in the French mountains. They live very stark lives, giving away everything to the poor, living off the land. His family, of course, was furious. His father all but disowned him for abandoning the more profitable priesthood.”
Cara was not surprised somehow that Edmund might find a way to quietly defy his family. She raised her eyes and met Gregory’s dark brown gaze. There was no malice nor mischief in them as before; in fact, there was very little sign of the boy she’d met at the festival.
He picked up another stick, aiming it toward the pond. “If I know Edmund, he’s created a sanctuary for every living thing in need of help.” Gregory tossed her a side glance. “He was always better with people than was I.”
A rumble in the rolling gray clouds above caught her attention, and Cara looked up just as the rain began to pour. Gregory beckoned for her to join him under the shelter of the tree.
“Nay, I should be going,” she called above the din of the torrential downpour.
“It will be over soon. Quick, before you get soaked to the skin.” He offered his hand.
Cara looked down at her gown, seeing it was already sticking to her body. Reluctantly, she took his hand and joined him beneath the dome of leafy branches.
“There now, that’s not so bad, is it?” He smiled and plucked a wet strand of hair from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear.
His gentle kindness surprised her in a way that she found admirable. Perhaps he’d changed from the egotistical young man she once knew. Cara remained on guard about his intent, just as she did around all men.
“Do you believe in fate?” he asked.
He was standing close enough that she could feel the warmth from his body. What alarmed her was her own body’s reaction. Was it fear or something else that made her heart beat wildly in her chest? It was not as though she held any wistful thoughts about romance anymore. “Nay, I believe we decide our own fate.”
He ran his knuckle softly down her cheek. Cara’s eyes met his.
“In that case, I cannot tell you enough times how sorry I am for how I behaved in my youth.”
She averted her eyes, wishing the rain would cease, yet confused why she should let that prevent her from leaving. “There is no need for you to make your confession to me, milord.”
“I know I have not given just cause why you should listen to me, but I hope in my heart that you will.” He paused, placing his fist to his mouth, as though deep in thought. “Edmund was—and is, no doubt—a better man than me. Unselfish, full of love for his fellow man. God knows he was more than tolerant of me when we were young.”
She glanced at him. “I thought this was about you.”
His finger touched her chin, drawing her eyes back to his. “Edmund made his choice.” Gregory searched her eyes. “And did what he had to do.”
One question had burned in her mind all these years, and unable to ask Edmund, she chose to ask his friend. “Did he love me?” she blurted without thinking.
The corner of Gregory’s mouth lifted with a sad smile. “I believe that he believed he loved you.”
It was not the answer she had hoped to hear. After years of imagining what it would be like to have Edmund return and see the three of them as one happy family, Cara realized suddenly that she’d painted an unrealistic picture, just as Edmund had done that night.
“I would never have left you, Cara.”
S
he frowned, jarred from her thoughts. “My apologies, what did you say?”
Gregory gently cupped her face between his hands, and Cara’s feet froze where she stood. “From the first moment I saw you at the festival I was lost.”
She studied his face. What was this? “What is your meaning?” She could barely breathe, staring into his intense brown eyes, eyes that seemed able to look deep into her soul and see her painful loneliness.
He lowered his head, watching for her response as his lips hovered over hers. “I lost my heart that day, Cara. But Edmund was certain that he would have you. What could I do? He was, after all, my friend.”
His lips, cool and moist from the rain, touched hers, sliding over her parched mouth. He did not press any further than she wished, but hesitated, his breath warm, waiting for her to choose her fate. Need pushed her to her toes. It had been so long since she’d felt the heady pull of desire, the taste of a man’s lips. Cara gave in to her curiosity little by little. Could another man’s kiss affect her as Edmund’s once had?
Tender yet insistent, Gregory’s hungry mouth coaxed her lips until she opened willingly, letting her tongue mate with his. Cara’s hands dangled lifeless at her sides, lost as she was in his rapturous kisses. He lifted her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. His palms drifted down her back, cupping her bottom, drawing her close, leaving no question of his arousal.
This was all too surreal. Perhaps it was a dream, a strange dream of him nuzzling the warm spot below her ear, eliciting pleasured sighs from her. Making her feel sensations she hadn’t felt in years. The image of the Green Man on the garden gate emerged in a sensual fog in her brain. Her fingers twisted into his shirtsleeves as a rush of cool air washed the shoulder where he’d tugged down her dress. His mouth left fire in the wake of his hot kisses.
“Why are you doing this?” she gasped. She was breathless with wonder at how desperately she missed the touch of a man.
He slid his fingers down the front of her gown, pushing away the fabric, lifting her soft mound in his palm. He closed his mouth over the sensitive tip, causing her blood to heat with desire. His unshaved cheek rubbed against her tender skin.
“I have never forgotten you, Cara,” he breathed against her rain-soaked flesh.
Three years? What was she doing? Cara moved her hand over her breast, halting his ministrations, and stepped away. She lifted her bodice back in place and forced herself to look at him. “Are you telling me that in the time since we met, you have never taken a wife?” she asked incredulously, distancing herself as best she could under the confines of the tree. Something didn’t seem right.
“I found no one to compare to you, Cara. It is true. Please, it pains me to see the look of mistrust in your eyes.”
“But you are Edmund’s friend.”
He nodded, raking his hand through his hair. “One of the reasons I waited so long to find you, I’m afraid. I wanted to be sure Edmund had made up his mind.”
“And how did you find me?” she asked.
Gregory smiled. “I was preparing to ride to your father’s house in the next few days, but in truth, I am glad that fate gave us this opportunity to speak together first.”
She shook her head. Surely she was dreaming this. “Visit with my father? About what? What about the statutes? You should not even be here.”
Gregory cast a look to the heavens. “The statutes?” He gave a short laugh. “They’ve weakened to nearly nothing. Even the man who proposed it has left parliament, in a quandary to its validity, nay, its necessity. Not only have they not been able to enforce it, there have been countless unions made between the Gaels and English. You didn’t know?”
Cara would not believe him. “Nay, and why should I believe you?”
His face registered surprise. “I assure you, milady, it is the truth. Why would I speak otherwise?”
A swirl of mixed emotions filled Cara’s heart. “And what is the truth, milord?” she retorted. “Which of you, Edmund or yourself, has had the heartiest laugh at my expense?”
“Ah, I see now how it is. You think that I am telling you these things in order to win a quick romp. Here is the truth then, Cara. When my father dies, I stand as his heir to inherit everything. I can take care of you. Give you everything you want, all you deserve.”
Cara could not believe her ears. Of course, he didn’t know about her child. That bit of news would no doubt sour his amorous intentions.
“Cara. You must believe me,” he said, reaching out to touch her, but drawing away at the look on her face.
“Why should I? Three years. You don’t know me. You don’t know what I have been through, what sacrifices I have made.”
He regarded her with an inquisitive look. “Tell me everything, Cara. If I can help, I will. I want you to believe me.”
He took a step toward her, but she eased away. She held up her hands to keep him from touching her, and backed out from under the tree. The rain came down in torrents, pounding her body. “Leave me alone,” she said, grabbing her shoes and running through the downpour to Kiernan’s house.
Cara stared out of the window of the room she’d once shared with her sister. The episode with Gregory the day before had left her confused, and then to come home and hear her father extolling the praises of the fifty-year-old widower farmer he’d hope she would marry was too much for her. She’d gone directly to her room, refusing the evening meal, and now breakfast. Cara thought of how many times she’d lain in her small bed and dreamed of the handsome young man she would marry one day. How passionate would be their love and how they would gracefully grow old together, surrounded by their grandchildren. But all of that was but the dreams of a naive young girl, a girl who no longer existed.
A soft tap on the door brought her out of her reverie, and she found her mother, hands clasped together excitedly, standing in her room.
“Ye need to come out here, Cara. There’s a most handsome gentleman whose come a-callin’. He speaks of marriage.”
Cara searched her mind for the handful of young men in her village not already betrothed. Gregory’s words sparked in her mind and she stood, peeking around the door to see him seated at the family table, speaking with her da. Her eyes widened and she slinked back into the room, her mind reeling over what to do. Had marriage been what he’d meant when he told her he was coming to see her da? Cara hugged her arms.
“Cara, you should make yerself presentable to your guest,” her mother suggested.
“I cannot marry him,” she whispered, trying to control the panic playing in her head.
Her mother eased the bedroom door shut and settled on Kiernan’s old bed. “Listen to me, child. I canna say what misgivings you have about this man. But he is of sound stock and has promised many good things to yer da in exchange for your hand and your dowry.”
Cara studied her mother’s eyes. “My dowry?”
“Aye, as our only child yet unmarried. Yer da has offered part of his land to the lad now, and the rest upon his death. He’s added a part of our cattle, as well, and a shared seat in the village administration.”
“That’s too much. Why would he offer an Englishman so much of all he has in this world?”
Her mother rose and came to her, touching her cheek. “Because in spite of what you think, yer da wants to see you happy. This young man apparently has impressed him as being one to provide that. Things are not the same as they once were, Cara. Our way of life grows smaller each day. Yer da knows this and is trying to see to it that you and Kiernan will be cared for.”
Cara paced, considering her options. “Does Gregory know about Moyran?”
Her mother shook her head. “I think Galen is leaving that in your hands. Moyran is safe and happy as any child could be. It is possible the lad would take her in, but he may also want to be startin’ a family of his own.”
Cara took a deep breath and looked up at the simple thatch roof she’d lived under her whole life. How would she fare in the elegance of an Englishma
n’s house? How could she marry Edmund’s best friend?
“Then again, there is always the option of Theron Harrington’s hand.” Her mother gave her a pointed look.
The idea of suffering through life with an old man whose teeth were nearly gone turned her stomach. And as Gregory had pointed out, Edmund had chosen his life. Now she must choose what was best for her. Not all marriages began because of love. She could learn to love Gregory, and at the very least, she knew she might enjoy his bed.
Cara followed her mother. Gregory and her da both stood when she entered the room. Cara etched in her mind the look of desire on Gregory’s face and tucked it away. “It is with humility that I accept your proposal.”
6
EDMUND LOOKED DOWN AT THE ROUGH SCARS crisscrossing his hands, evidence of his work in tending the gardens of the remote mountainside monastery. He hadn’t taken much notice before now. The letter he’d received had caused him to face the ghosts of his past—the reality that a world truly existed beyond the safe walls of this simple abbey. Since the arrival of the invitation three days ago, sent via his mother, a part of his life that he’d managed to tuck away, denouncing its importance as part of a reckless and rebellious childhood, had been reopened. And it drummed up emotions that he’d set aside long ago in favor of servitude and self-denial. His parents, of course, were angry that he’d abruptly ended his studies toward becoming an entitled member of the priesthood. Even more so, when he instead chose a path that many would find difficult, if not impossible to walk. But he’d chosen it as a sacrifice, a way to rid himself of his past mistakes, to empty himself entirely of every gain—material or title—and exist in a cloistered world where he would serve only God in silent humility.
The Pleasure Garden: Sacred VowsPerfumed PleasuresRites of Passions Page 5