by Paula Quinn
Gillian agreed. Colin Campbell was different from the other men at Dartmouth. She remembered one of her first opinions about him. He’d reminded her of the kind of wolf that stalks its prey in the dark. The kind you don’t see coming until it’s too late. The garrison seemed to like him well enough. And why wouldn’t they, when he constantly allowed them victory on the practice field? He’d won her son’s favor, thereby winning hers. And now even her stoic, cautious captain had fallen victim to his guileless charisma.
Of course, she hadn’t told George about Colin’s kiss. No reason to get the poor man killed, although she wasn’t completely certain that her captain would come out triumphant against Colin.
A sound behind her spun her on her heel. The hooded figure standing beneath the entryway nearly stopped her heart. Instinctively, she moved backward until her rump hit the wall. She stumbled for an instant before regaining her balance, but he’d rushed toward her, his hand outstretched, his beautiful face pale beneath the moonlight.
“Lass, I beg ye, have a care.”
“You startled me, Mr. Campbell.” She remained where she was, refusing his hand. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Why do ye avoid me?”
Oh, dear God, why did he care? Why did he sound like her answer was the only thing that mattered to him? She didn’t want him to care. It would lead to nothing but sadness. Geoffrey would never let her go.
“You frighten me,” she told him, wishing the wind would carry her words away as she uttered them. She hated being frightened. More, she hated admitting it.
“Fergive me,” he said quietly, pushing back his hood. “ ’Tis not my intention to frighten ye. ’Tis what I came to speak to ye about. The other night… I didn’t mean to… I should not have…”
She shook her head, agreeing with him and feeling as miserable as he sounded. “You mustn’t.”
“I’ll be more vigilant in the future,” he vowed.
“As I am trying to be now.” She lowered her gaze, embarrassed by the truth. She’d never been any good with concealing her feelings behind some weighty mask. Now was no exception. She didn’t want him to look into her eyes and see the power he had to resurrect dead dreams. If he thought she’d prayed for him, longed for him, he might never give up his quest to guard Edmund.
“I’ll leave ye to yer thoughts then.”
He moved to go, but Gillian’s hand shot forward to stop him. Even in her youth, she had not been this reckless, but the very sight of this swarthy Highland mercenary tempted her to abandon her logic and her fears, and live again. She said nothing, though she’d halted his departure. What was there to say? That she was weak? That being with him was better than being with her thoughts… or her lute? That she…
She caught her breath when he coiled his arm around her waist and drew her up against him. She could do nothing else but watch, heavy-lidded, while his mouth descended on her, tender yet unyielding. She knew with dreaded certainty that she was losing her heart to him. Perhaps it was already too late. Presently, she didn’t care. She just wanted to kiss him back. And she did, despite every alarm going off in her head. Boldly, she ran her palms down the hard contours of his arms and flicked her tongue across his in a sensual dance that pulled a groan from deep inside his throat.
He seemed more aware of the effect they were having on each other than she was and withdrew first. “Ye’re not going to avoid me fer a se’nnight this time, are ye, lass?” Smiling down at her, he kept her close in his arms, shielding her from the wind.
“Perhaps four days this time.” She smiled back. “But if you continue to kiss me like that, I cannot promise it will not be a month before you see me again.”
“Then I’ll restrain myself, lady. Three days was wretched enough.”
Gillian closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to his chest. Oh, she was lost. She couldn’t fight this. She didn’t want to. “Did you miss my company then, Mr. Campbell?” She tilted her face to his and offered him a playful smile.
He grew serious, as if her question unnerved him, proving to Gillian that he feared losing his heart as much as she did. Why? What would it cost him? She already knew: his life, if Geoffrey discovered it.
“I should go check on Edmund.” She broke away from his embrace, hating her cousin more than she ever thought possible.
“I will escort ye to his room. There are things I would speak to ye about,” Colin said, picking up his steps behind her when she turned to go.
She should stop him, but she didn’t. What harm was there in walking down the stairs with him, even letting him look in on her son if he wished to? He certainly wouldn’t kiss her again in her babe’s chamber.
Reassuring herself did nothing to stop her hands from shaking when she opened Edmund’s door a few moments later. The room was quiet and softly lit with candles burning low on their wicks, but she could see Colin’s face clearly enough when he stepped up to the edge of the bed beside her. So then, it hadn’t been only her that he’d missed these last few days.
“I understand why ye doubt my ability to protect him,” he whispered, turning to arrest her heart with the residue of tenderness for her son warming his gaze. “But if ye knew—”
“I don’t doubt that you believe you can,” she interrupted gently. “Though you stumble from time to time in the practice yard, you walk with the confidence of a king. You go about conquering monsters with a magic dagger and some candle wax. But Geoffrey is more than a bad dream. You cannot protect Edmund from him.”
“I can, Gillian.”
“How? How can you when you are not with Edmund all day, every day? Geoffrey has authority here. He needs but to speak the word and any harm could befall my son.”
“I would take him away.”
Her breath stilled, followed an instant later by her heart.
“I’ve already spoken to Captain Gates, and he—”
“What? What are you saying?” When her son stirred in his bed, she snatched Colin’s wrist and pulled him toward the door. “You want to take Edmund away?”
“Aye. I mean to get him away first, without yer cousin suspecting anything amiss. I will get ye out after that.”
She shook her head. What was she hearing? George would never have agreed to this. And if he had, he would have told her.
“I need ye to trust me, Gillian.”
With her son’s life? No. Never.
“He will be safe, lass. I vow it. Ye must not depend on William of Orange fer yer aid.”
“Why not?”
He looked anguished and angry, but he didn’t give her a reason for his warning.
“Please, just trust me.”
“The hour is late, Colin. You should go.”
He hesitated, his gaze drawing her in until she felt tempted to move closer to him. She didn’t. She’d kissed him. She’d feared for his life and her sanity. She didn’t want to think about him taking Edmund from her… not even for a day. Trust him? Dear God, would that he had asked anything but that.
Chapter Twenty-two
Gillian was summoned early the next morning and escorted by George to her cousin’s solar. When she saw Colin already present, standing by the window, she felt a renewed prick somewhere deep in her chest. Why was he here? Did it have to do with Edmund?
“Gillian.” Geoffrey’s cutting voice raked across her ears. “Your father arrives at Kingswear tomorrow with the bishop and has requested to see you.”
Her father? Hope did not hasten her heart. She’d learned during his past visits that he didn’t come to bring her home, but only to assure her mother that he’d seen her alive and well. Gillian wondered why Evelyn Dearly cared. Perhaps, she told herself often, her mother secretly wished her daughter and grandson were dead. Then she wouldn’t have to be burdened with the idea of Gillian showing up at one of Essex’s posh balls with her bastard on her hip.
“We leave first thing tomorrow morning,” her cousin continued, oblivious to the tears welling up in her eyes. She didn’t know w
hy her body chose to betray her now, and over her parent’s detachment.
“Has he requested to see Edmund as well?” she asked, pulling herself together.
Geoffrey rose from his chair and hovered over her. “Why would he?”
Then he hadn’t. It didn’t shock Gillian, and it didn’t change her mind about what she meant to do. “It’s time he finally meets his grandson.”
Geoffrey laughed, as if in utter surprise and delight at her gall. “Your waif will remain here. I’ll not hear another word on the matter. It’s time you began obeying me, Gillian. When we—”
Oh, but she was tired of him bullying her. If she were a man, she would have punched him in the mouth. She was also tired of her parents pretending that Edmund didn’t exist. It was too easy for them with her locked away here. But not this time. “I will not be going without my son,” she said, cutting off whatever he was blabbering. “Tell the earl I refuse to see him. Tell him that nothing you could threaten to do to me or to his grandson could persuade me to look upon his face. He shouldn’t be angry with you for too long, dear cousin.” She gave his shoulder a tender pat. “After all, you are nothing but a mere messenger.”
Fire lanced up Geoffrey’s cheeks and blazed to life in his eyes. Fearing she’d gone too far, Gillian lowered her gaze and bit back the remainder of her words until her jaw ached.
But it was too late.
“What a mouthy bitch you are, cousin. You simply don’t know when to quit.”
She looked up in time to see Colin move away from the window and take a step closer to Geoffrey, the hilts of his many daggers gleaming in the firelight and George’s warning glance stopping him.
“But now that you bring up messengers,” Geoffrey spat, his eyes as cold and as dark as the fathomless depths of the sea, “do you think the opinions of some wretched whore would sway the mind of a great man? A man like Prince William, for instance?”
Prince William? Why would he say such a thing? Gillian fought the intense urge to flee and stood her ground… keeping her trembling hands at her sides. What did he know? Had someone told him about her missives to the prince? The room spun just a bit when she swung her gaze to Colin—the only one besides her who knew.
He’d betrayed her to her cousin.
“Thankfully for us both,” Geoffrey practically sang, appearing to have forgiven her. She knew better. “Not a single drop of your venom has touched him.”
She blinked her eyes away from Colin and back to him, hoping she’d heard him wrong. “I don’t… What do you mean?”
Geoffrey’s tight lips relaxed into a triumphant snarl. “Why, I mean your letters to Prince William. What do you think I mean? I’ve intercepted them all.” He chuckled, watching her fall into the closest chair, her bloodless complexion proof enough of her guilt. “The prince will not be saving you, dear Gillian. No one will.”
“What letters? What the hell are you referring to?” It was George who spoke while she tried to remember to breathe and why she wanted to continue.
Geoffrey turned to him, his joyous grin fading. “I was coming to you next, Captain, but I will conclude with you now. I speak of the letters against me that your charge has been penning to the Dutch prince while you were busy teaching her son how to piss standing up.”
“Impossible.” George almost laughed in his face. “There are no letters—”
“Not anymore,” her cousin agreed. “I burned the last of them last eve. Did I not, Campbell?”
Gillian watched, the closest she’d ever come to letting Geoffrey witness her tears, while Colin nodded. Burned. None of her letters had ever reached the prince. How could it be possible? How could everything she’d hoped for, risked everything for, be over so quickly? No help was coming. Her gaze frosted over on Colin. He might not have told her cousin her secret, but he knew what had become of her letters and he hadn’t told her. She’d kissed him. She’d allowed him to awaken her dreams. She’d become a fool once again.
“As of today,” her cousin continued, “you are no longer Gillian’s guardian, Captain Gates.” He held up his palm to stop George when her captain objected. “I put you to service to watch her. If you truly don’t know about her treachery against me, then you failed miserably at your duty. On the other hand, if you did know about them, that would mean you have also betrayed me. Either way, I need a man I can trust to do what I ask. She will be in the care of Mr. Campbell starting today.”
Like hell she would! Gillian didn’t wait to hear whatever George was about to say but stood up and swiped a tear from her lashes. She had had enough of sitting around cowering and taking orders from Geoffrey. Enough of fearing what he might or might not do. It wasn’t over. It couldn’t be. She couldn’t give up or give in, now more than ever. Her course may have changed but she still had to fight… for Edmund. Perhaps she would steal into her cousin’s room tonight and kill him while he slept.
“Geoffrey, Captain Gates knew nothing of what I was doing, so don’t threaten him.” She let him hear the bite in her warning, unconcerned with the consequences. Let any one of them lay a finger on Edmund… “As for Mr. Campbell, I can promise you that no matter how sharp his eyes are, if he makes a move against me or Edmund”—she spared the Highlander her briefest glance—“he won’t see my dagger until it’s in his heart. In regard to my visit to Kingswear, you will have to tie me to a horse to get me there without my son. But I warn you, Geoffrey, you’d best prepare to explain to the earl why his daughter is so badly bruised and battered, because I swear I will fight to my death if I must with whoever tries to bind me. It will be easier on all if I bring Edmund.”
For a moment Geoffrey looked like he wanted to throttle her senseless. Gillian knew he wanted to. She wanted to roll up her sleeves and dare him to give it a go. She knew how to use her dagger and her fists, thanks to George. But being a lady, she refrained. Besides, she knew how to beat him. She simply had to keep her reaction to him to a minimum.
He took great pleasure in belittling her, and believed he came out victorious in every battle in which they engaged. She was certain he’d anxiously waited for the day when he could tell her how clever he’d been at seizing her correspondence with William. He wanted to gloat over her helplessness. She wouldn’t let him.
Without waiting for his response, she turned to George on her way out of the solar. “Captain Gates, if you would please escort me to my son’s room.”
“That was quite bold,” George said when they were alone in the hall.
“I know. I went too far. I cannot let Edmund out of my sight for an instant.”
“Your mercenary would bring him to my house in Essex.”
She stopped and turned to him. “Why did you not tell me that you spoke with him about this?”
“I wasn’t certain it was a good plan.”
Gillian gaped at him. “And now you do? George, your home is the first place Geoffrey would look for us.”
“Not if it was his idea to bring Edmund there.”
She shook her head. “What in blazes are you talking about? Are you mad to think I would—” Her words were cut off by the solar door opening and Colin stepping out. She watched him pause when he saw her and then thought better of it and continued his stride in her direction.
“Good, I’m glad I caught both of ye.” He turned to George first. “Captain, I had no idea what he meant to do. But now that’s he’s done it, it makes my plan easier.”
“Mr. Campbell.” Gillian stepped up to him and tilted her chin. “I have no idea what your plan is, nor do I care. It will fail because I will have no part in it. I don’t know what your motives are, but if my cousin can trust you, then I cannot. You are not taking my son anywhere without me and if you ever bring it up again, it will be the last time we speak. Do you understand?”
He had the audacity to let his mouth hook into a smile. “Aye, but would ye be opposed to me telling ye that ye stood like a warrior in there? He wanted ye to break and ye didn’t.”
She qui
rked her brow at him, astonished that he would try to compliment her, perhaps continue to win her favor after what he’d done. She would be a fool no more and it was time he knew it. “You took a chance with my heart, then, didn’t you? You had no way of knowing my reaction and yet you told me nothing about my letters being destroyed before they ever reached Prince William.” He had nothing to say to that, did he? She nodded to herself, angry enough to slap him. “Now that I think more on it, I would prefer if you cease speaking with me from this day hence.
“Captain,” she called out as she headed for the stairs. “Please see that Mr. Campbell does not follow me. I fear he might try to kiss me again.”
She cringed at the sound of a fist striking bone, and then she smiled when she heard George shout, “To the yard, Campbell, and you’d best prepare for the worst.”
“I didn’t force myself on her,” Colin explained, turning to the captain when they stepped outside.
“I trusted you.” Gates’s fist came around swinging yet again. This time Colin stepped back, avoiding the blow.
“ ’Twas a moment of weakness.”
The captain scowled even harder and ripped his sword from its sheath. “Then she means nothing to you. You take liberties with her for no reason other than your own desire.”
“I didn’t say that.” Colin ducked, narrowly escaping a slice to his neck. He nearly fell backward when the blade returned to cut him down the middle. Hell, all those nights of practicing together had paid off… for the captain. Pity. Finally, he had before him a man who promised to deliver a good fight, and Colin didn’t want to fight him. He’d have to injure the captain to end it.
“I don’t know what I feel fer her…,” he confessed, knowing that the only way to disarm this opponent was with the truth. In his line of duty, Colin didn’t give up many of his truths. But he found that once he spoke this one, he couldn’t stop. “ ’Tis like a madness that plagues me, and it is getting harder to harness every day.”