by Amy Harmon
* * *
“Is everyone comfy cozy?”
Kellen glared at Gillian as she tugged and smoothed the blanket over four sets of legs and feet. He moved his shoulders to try and get more comfortable, and as Francis dug an elbow into his ribs, Kellen winced.
His bed had never been so crowded, and he would no doubt be pushed to the floor before dawn. He’d hoped to share a bed with Gillian, not three hysterical faint hearts. “You do understand I am exceedingly unhappy with you?” asked Kellen.
Gillian bent her head. Was that a giggle? “Yes, I know.” She rounded the side of the bed and tucked the blanket about Peter’s shoulders. When she finally met Kellen’s gaze, she didn’t quite smile but looked impish in the candlelight. “I plan to feel guilty all night long. I doubt I’ll sleep much at all.”
Kellen watched her expression closely, questioning her sincerity. Was she trying to bite back a smile? “I would hope not since I doubt I’ll sleep myself. I’d not planned to share my bed this night with three whimpering boys.”
Gillian nodded. “This is all my fault.”
Kellen shifted again, unable to get comfortable on the very edge of the bed. “Indeed. I am gratified you realize such.”
Gillian was obviously trying not to laugh and Kellen’s frown deepened. “This amuses you?”
Gillian ducked her head. “No. Not at all. I’m sorry. Really. I was thinking of something else.”
He snorted, and as Gillian leaned over Peter and Ulrick to tuck the blanket around Francis, Kellen reached out and grasped her soft hand, forcing Gillian to meet his gaze.
She pressed her lips together, then nodded. “Truly.”
Kellen’s lips twisted. “These dragons you told them of. Perhaps you should keep such tales to yourself in future?”
Gillian tugged her hand free and, with finger and thumb, made a motion across her lips. “Never again. I promise, no more scary stories.”
The boys protested and Gillian shushed them.
Kellen sighed loudly so she’d understand how put out he was with her. “I’d not guessed you’d be such a troublemaker.”
Gillian laughed and tucked the blanket around Ulrick. “You were hoping for sweet, demure, and silent?”
“As if the gods would thus smile upon me.”
Gillian laughed softly once more as she knelt on the bed and leaned over Peter and Ulrick to kiss Francis on the forehead. “To chase away the bad dreams,” she told him.
She kissed Ulrick next. “To guard against dragons.”
She kissed Peter. “To ensure a good night’s sleep.”
Kellen quickly leaned up on one elbow. “What of me? Perhaps I will need a kiss to keep my dreams sweet.”
Gillian rounded the bed and looked down at him. “I thought you weren’t going to get any sleep tonight.”
Kellen lay back. “Mayhap a kiss will soothe me.”
Gillian raised a brow. “If my kisses soothe you then perhaps we should rethink our engagement.”
Kellen growled, grabbed her shoulders, and gently drew her toward him, giving her the chance to pull away.
Chuckling, Gillian leaned down to kiss his cheek and he turned his head at the last second, hoping to capture her mouth with his. She chuckled again, shakily this time, turned his head, and kissed his cheek with soft lips as her sweetly scented hair fell across his face.
When she pulled away, he quickly grabbed her hand, kissed the backside, and then turning her hand over, pressed her palm to his mouth, groaning slightly at the contact. Staring into his eyes, Gillian shivered, drew a quick breath, and pulled her hand away.
“You are correct.” Kellen’s voice was low. “’Twas not soothing in the least.”
Gillian swallowed. “I’m glad.”
“As am I. I could walk you back to your bedchamber. I will slay any dragons that show themselves.”
Gillian laughed. “I’ll take my chances with the dragons.” She pushed Kellen back and tucked the blanket around him. “Besides, the boys need you here with them.”
As if unable to help herself, she gave him one more quick kiss on the cheek, straightened and moved away, leaving Kellen to breathe in the last of her scent. “You should stay, also,” he insisted.
“There’s no room.” She picked up the candle from the bedside table and, as Kellen considered settling the boys on the floor, she looked back one last time. “Good night.”
He sighed heavily. “If these sheets are wet on the morrow, I’ll hold you responsible.”
Gillian’s laugh was cut off as she shut the door, and Kellen lay in the dark wondering why he smiled over such obvious insolence.
The boys, completely quiet, lay tense rather than relaxed.
“Go to sleep. But know this, I am indeed serious when I say that if any of you wets the bed, they will sleep in the moat.”
Three boys giggled and Kellen couldn’t help it. He laughed.
* * *
The next afternoon Kellen trained with his men when one of the guards rushed toward him. “My lord. You bade me inform you of any new arrivals.” Breathless from his run, his red face crumpled in distress, the guard came to a halt. “Sir Royce is inside with a few of his men, asking for Lady Corbett.”
Kellen’s chest tightened, his jaw clenched, and without a word to anyone, he sheathed his sword and left the training field. After what felt an eternity, he strode into the hall to see Gillian speaking with Royce. She turned at Kellen’s approach, a smile lighting her face. For him? Or that puss-bucket Royce?
Kellen hurried forward, wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and pulled her against his chest, feeling an absurd need to assert his claim. Absurd because she was already his. “Sir Royce. How fortuitous of you to stop by exactly at the dinner hour.”
Kellen picked up Gillian’s hand and rubbed her palm with his thumb, exactly where he’d kissed it the night before. She looked at their hands, at him, and then glanced between Royce and Kellen, her brows knit.
As for Royce, he stared at their now entwined hands. “Ah, well… ” Ignoring Kellen, he turned his intense gaze upon Gillian, managing to look both sincere and contrite. “Again I must apologize for any upset I may have caused at our first meeting, Lady Corbett. I fear my men frightened you and most humbly beg your pardon. Do not concern yourself. The miscreants have been severely punished.”
Gillian lifted her chin, her expression stern. “Tell me, Sir Royce. Have you been punished, as well?”
“Ah… ” As the fawning grin fell from Royce’s face, Kellen laughed.
Gillian elbowed him. “Because you know what? You did scare me. And it didn’t seem like you were prepared to help. All I can say is that it’s a good thing Kellen came along when he did, because who knows what might have happened otherwise.” She leaned back into Kellen.
Pleased with the way this played out, Kellen nodded toward an open-mouthed Royce. “This is upsetting you, my dear. Would you like me to send Sir Royce and his men on their way?”
Royce straightened in obvious affront. A few of his men, having overheard, shifted uneasily. Gillian hesitated, then shook her head. “No. They’re our closest neighbors, after all. And I appreciate that he was willing to apologize.”
Kellen didn’t see this as enough of a reason and considered throwing him out, anyway. He had looked forward to seeing Gillian all morning and to come back and find Royce drooling in her presence was more than should be expected. But she leaned against him, and Kellen didn’t want her to think him ill-mannered or that he would keep her from company.
“Would you and your men like to join us for dinner, Sir Royce?” asked Gillian.
Royce, standing stiff, dipped his head. “Thank you, Lady Corbett. You are all that is kind and gracious. Your pardon only accentuates your inner beauty and makes me envious of Lord Marshall for having such a lovely and charming bride.” Royce’s slyly pleased gaze had Kellen’s jaw clenching as he looked to see how Gillian took the flowery speech. She looked skeptical and Kellen smirked at Royce
.
As Tristan and Owen joined them, Kellen nodded toward the head table, led Gillian there, and seated her. Tristan hurried to sit at her side, taking the place Royce so obviously wanted for himself.
Royce hurried around the table, but Owen quickly sat across from Gillian, forcing Royce to choose the next seat over, which offered Kellen some satisfaction.
“Lady Corbett,” Royce spoke loudly so as to be heard over the hall now filling with knights. “May I say you are all beauty, grace, and comportment? Being in your presence is the high-point of my week.”
Gillian didn’t look at Royce as she spread a cloth across her lap. “Thank you.”
Kellen, unable to think of better compliments, glared at Royce and after a quick prayer by one of the boys, took a healthy swallow of wine.
“How are you settling as the new mistress of such a large castle?” asked Royce.
Curious to hear the answer, Kellen glanced at Gillian.
She grinned. “It’s great. I’m having the best vacation of my life.”
Kellen was not sure of her meaning. “Vacation?”
“Yes, you know, like a holiday, or time off.”
He wasn’t sure how to take that. He was glad she enjoyed herself, but did she somehow see this as a temporary arrangement? Or did he misunderstand her meaning? “Gillian—”
She waved a hand. “I know, once the marriage takes place it’ll be work, work, work. But for now, I’m just having fun.”
Kellen paused, then took a breath. “Gillian, I hope that after the marriage, you will continue to feel as if you vacation still.”
Gillian slowly set her roll down and turned to look at him with soft eyes. She smiled. “That is so sweet. You are going to make a really great husband, do you know that?”
Kellen’s chest swelled at her praise.
“’Twould be easy to spoil one such as yourself, Lady Corbett,” interrupted Royce. “One so lovely should enjoy each day to the fullest.”
Kellen barely heard Royce’s words as Gillian continued to smile, and only the platters of food arriving turned her gaze and broke the contact.
Tristan leaned close to Gillian to whisper to Kellen. “Is your stomach turning? Am I mistaken or doth the beslubbering, weather-bitten weasel try to shift thy lady’s affection?”
Kellen barely glanced at Royce and instead enjoyed Gillian’s embarrassment as she lowered her gaze and pressed a cloth to her lips. “Tristan, hush. He’ll hear you.”
Was she trying not to laugh? Kellen hoped so. And while he wished Royce had overheard, unfortunately the noise level was high thanks to the addition of Royce’s men at the next table.
Gillian buttered a roll while Kellen, feeling better by the moment, reached for the chicken.
“’Tis a beautiful ring you wear, Lady Corbett. It looks to be of exceeding value.”
Gillian glanced at it. “Oh. Thank you. It was my father’s, and I’m having a heck of a time getting it off.” She rubbed butter into the skin around the gold, then tugged, but the ring didn’t budge. “See?”
Kellen smiled at the frustrated tone. “What think you, Tristan? Sir Owen? We may have to cut off her finger to get to the prize.”
Gillian sent him a mock glare. “You just try it, buster, and see which of your own appendages goes missing.”
Kellen choked on his wine as Tristan and Owen laughed aloud. Kellen wondered if she knew what she implied.
Royce ignored the entire interplay. “Do you miss your family, Lady Corbett?”
“I do.”
“’Tis such a hard time when a woman leaves her home. It can be exceedingly lonely.”
Kellen sent Royce a hard look. “She will see them often enough and has a new home here with additional family to call her own.”
Gillian smiled at Kellen once more, calming his jealousy. Royce seemed to be courting her. Trying to romance her. Kellen knew it was an accepted mode of treating a lady but did not like it. Men should court their own wives, or if unwed, bother unattached maidens.
He ought to plant a fist in Royce’s pretty face and bash it up a bit. A crooked nose and a few missing teeth might balance out the comeliness nature had bestowed upon him and keep him from romancing women not his own.
At one time, Kellen had even wondered if Royce could have seduced Catherine, but none had seen him at the keep when Kellen was away, and it had been rumored Royce was abroad himself. It still rankled that Kellen could not find his wife’s seducer and mete out the justice the man deserved.
Again, Kellen considered the possibility that Catherine had lied. That the poison had warped her thoughts at the end.
Royce raised a hand to draw Gillian’s attention. “You have a different way of forming your words, Lady Corbett.”
Kellen glared at Royce. “She is all that is charming.”
“Of course. I meant no insult. Her voice is most pleasing. And her face so beautiful. The stars no doubt vie to glow upon her skin as the sun takes pleasure in lighting her path.”
Gillian smiled, and Kellen fumed. ’Twas obvious the lines were well-rehearsed and had no doubt been uttered to numerous women, but would Gillian realize such?
Tristan leaned forward. “How fares the planting, Sir Royce?”
Royce’s eyes narrowed. “It goes well. But some of my livestock have been stolen recently.”
“As have some of mine,” said Kellen.
Royce studied him. “Any idea who raids us?”
“Nay, but I will catch the culprits and punish them.”
“In the meantime, where will you hide and guard your cattle?”
Did Royce think him a fool? “The western parts of the estate.”
Across from him, Owen’s lips barely tilted as he reached for his goblet, well-aware Kellen was lying.
After a long silence Royce started up again, apparently unable to keep quiet. “Lady Corbett, have you been to London of late? What of the current fashions?”
Gillian shrugged. “It changes so often. It’s hard to say.”
“So true. But you would grace whatever you chose to wear.”
“Thanks. So, what’s your favorite fashion trend at the moment?”
As they spoke, Kellen glanced down at his clothing, feeling loutish and rough in comparison to Royce. Perhaps he should take an interest in such and have finer clothes made to please Gillian. He wondered if she would make him some. Her sister had not.
He gave her the best pieces of meat off their shared platter, but she did not seem to notice. He had a servant come forward to refill her goblet. Again, she continued to discuss fashion. Kellen glanced around and gestured toward his daughter’s nurse, and she quickly brought Amelia forward.
His daughter held the ingenious flying toy Gillian made of paper, and Gillian’s conversation with Royce finally came to an end as she scooped up the child and placed Amelia on Kellen’s lap, which panicked them both.
Gillian smiled as she looked between them. “She’s darling. She looks like you.”
Kellen, staring down into the child’s face did not see the likeness. Had never seen it. Amelia studied him as well, her expression slightly wary.
Gillian fussed over Amelia before she was called by her nurse and taken for a nap.
Royce watched the child walk away before turning back to Gillian. “Will there be entertainment for Lady Corbett’s pleasure?”
There was none, making Kellen wish he had planned amusement for her. Did Gillian miss such from her father’s keep? He would get some minstrels to entertain on the morrow. But for today it was better there were none, as Royce would linger if given the opportunity.
As soon as the meal ended, Kellen stood, as did Tristan and Owen. When Kellen helped Gillian to her feet, Royce was finally forced to stand and follow them out, his men trailing behind.
At the door, Royce tried to capture Gillian’s hand; but Kellen snatched it first and held tight, giving Royce a fierce glare.
Royce’s laugh was stilted and uneasy. “I thank you for t
he meal. A good day to you all.”
Gillian smiled. “Thanks for stopping by.”
She watched Royce leave and Kellen shifted uneasily on his feet wondering at her thoughts. Had she been taken in by his flattery?
Gillian sighed and Kellen went from uncertain to murderous. Did she sigh after the man? As soon as Gillian no longer looked, he would follow and kill the misbegotten cur and she could sigh over his grave.
Finally, with a shake of her head, Gillian turned to Kellen.
“I’m sorry, Kellen. I know Sir Royce is your closest neighbor, but we simply can’t have him over too often. Not only do I question his sincerity, but he’s so much prettier than I am that my vanity can’t take it.”
Intense relief swept through Kellen. She did not want the other man? She had seen through him? Then he might allow Royce to live, after all. “That is fine by me. But before I leave for the training field, I must correct you. None is prettier than you.”
He gave her hand one last squeeze, dared a quick kiss on her forehead, and did not wait for her to respond as he headed out the door. Her stunned expression was reward enough.
Chapter Fourteen
The Scottish heathens melted out of the shadows, startling Sir Robert Royce. ’Twas the third night he’d waited, and he’d not been sure they would come. He urged his horse out of the dark copse of trees and into the moonlight, three of his men following, five others waiting and watchful for any signs of aggression.
They stopped, English facing Scots, and Robert’s horse moved under him in nervous reaction to the huge animal the Scottish Laird rode. Robert fought the same feeling of intimidation.
The full moon shone on MacGregor, casting half his face in shadow, seeming to highlight a beast, feral and savage.
Not unlike Lord Marshall himself, if it came to that, only dressed even worse. The savage actually wore animal skins. Robert suppressed a shudder and tried to hide his distaste.
MacGregor smiled, if it could be called that. He seemed amused, but at the same time his expression expressed contempt.
Robert straightened in the saddle, his mouth tightening. He was English, and therefore superior. How dare this dirty heathen show disdain? He was fortunate Robert had sent for him. The savage was obviously not bright enough to know better.