Romance Through the Ages

by Amy Harmon

  He tried to decide whether to give them all to her at once or to keep some back so as to have more to offer later. The decision was easy. He’d spread them out and thus have more opportunities for gratitude coming his way.

  He stood as she neared, as did Tristan and Owen; but while the other men easily exchanged greetings with her, Kellen swallowed a few times and could feel sweat slicking his back. He could do this. He could court Gillian without mucking it up.

  Gillian stopped in front of him. “You’ve assigned guards to follow me?” He finally noted the scowl on her face as she threw both hands in the air. “Really, Kellen?”

  He took a breath. “’Tis for your safety. A good morn to you, my lady.”

  Gillian took a seat on the bench. “Good morning. All I’m saying is I just don’t think it’s necessary.”

  Kellen resumed his seat. “Regardless, you will humor me.”

  Cook brought food and, bushy brows drawn together over a red face, mumbled to herself, “I should like to see them try it again. Poisoning my food and killing my friends? Threatening my lord and lady thus? I will deliver it my own self and see if they dare such trickery again.” She left the food and a somber mood as she marched back to the kitchen.

  “I will try it first.” Kellen picked up a piece of bread and took a large bite.

  Gillian reached for a different slice. “Don’t think I don’t know why you’re so willing to put your life on the line. You just took the best piece.”

  When she winked at him, Kellen laughed and finally relaxed a bit. “You know me well, my lady.” He considered how to gift her the bracelet, how to charm her. He would chat with her, put her at ease, have more of her smiles, then give her the gift. “I trust you slept well?”

  Gillian didn’t answer, didn’t seem to hear, only stared across the table and over Tristan’s shoulder at the stone wall behind him.

  “Gillian?”

  Her head jerked and she looked down at the piece of bread in her hand as if surprised to see it. “Hmm?”

  “Did you sleep well?”

  “What? Oh, yes. Thank you.”

  “You look beautiful this day.”

  Her attention was caught by Marissa and her ladies joining them and he wasn’t sure if Gillian heard his compliment over their chatter. What he really needed was to get her alone and have all her attention to himself. “I would be most grateful if you could find the time to walk—”

  “Lady Gillian, you must tell us about Laird MacGregor,” Lady Yvonne interrupted. “Is he as fierce as they say?”

  Lady Vera seated herself and leaned forward. “Was he handsome?”

  Gillian shrugged. “He had hair all over his face, and he’s pretty wild looking; so it’s hard to say if he was handsome or not. He’s big and strong like Kellen, and I thought he was nice enough. We had a pleasant conversation in his tent, and he was a perfect gentleman the whole time I was there.”

  The two ladies exchanged a look and giggled.

  Kellen’s fists clenched and he snorted. “Would that I had killed him when I had the chance.”

  Gillian turned to see his expression, laughed, and touched his arm. “Are you jealous? That’s so sweet.”

  He shook his head and rolled his eyes. She found him sweet when he was not trying.

  “His men seemed a bit superstitious,” said Gillian. “They actually thought I was a witch.”

  “A witch?” Kellen thumped his fist on the table. “Would that I had killed them all when I had the chance.” As he’d hoped, Gillian laughed again and he reached for his pouch. With her laughing, cheerful, and looking at him thus, now would be the perfect opportunity to gift her the bracelet.

  “We buried Frederick yesterday,” said Marissa. “In a place of honor.”

  Kellen’s hand dropped away. Or not.

  Gillian’s brows furrowed. “In the cemetery up the hill?”

  Marissa nodded. “Aye.”

  “I’d like to go and pay my respects today,” said Gillian.

  Marissa waved a hand. “There is no need. My ladies and I stood for our family.”

  Gillian placed her hand on Kellen’s arm. “I insist. He died protecting us.”

  Kellen placed a hand over hers. “That he did. Do you really want to disrespect him by placing yourself in danger? When I have discovered the villain who is throwing knives and poison about, you shall have more freedom. You may pay your respects then.”

  “But—”

  “Frederick would be the first to agree.”

  Gillian searched his face, scowled, then shot a glare at Tristan and Owen, who murmured their agreement from across the table. She looked down at the trencher in front of her.

  “Come, Gillian. Let us have no hard feelings between us this day.”

  “You keep forgetting that I’m the one who owns you, not the other way around.”

  Amused by her crossness, by the reminder of the day they had met, Kellen smiled. “I wholeheartedly agree. I am yours.”

  Gillian looked at him, her eyelids fluttered, and she glanced away. “Then take me to the cemetery.”

  Kellen sighed. She was like a dog with a bone. “I will send villagers to look for the missing bracelet. If it is there, they will find it.”

  He’d thought to please her, but she continued to frown. He reached for his pouch, sure he had something to put a smile on her face.

  Tristan slapped the table. “I have no doubt ’tis the mangy, puking, Scots scum who are responsible for Frederick’s death.”

  “What think you, my lord?” asked Owen. “You spoke to their laird. Did you sense the Scots are behind the attacks?”

  All eyes turned to Kellen and, with a sigh, he dropped the bracelet back into the pouch. Why could they not discuss such matters when Gillian was not about?

  “I cannot see them trying to slay Gillian. Kidnap her? Aye. Ransom her? Most assuredly. But poison? Murder? Nay. There is no point to it. But it would be easier were it the case, because the thought of one of my own doing the deed sits ill.”

  Everyone went silent, and Gillian placed her hand on Kellen’s arm and rubbed it for a moment. At her softening, he thought to get her alone, to give her the gift in private, and perhaps earn a kiss or two. “Would you care to take a turn about the orchard?”

  Sir Owen cleared his throat. “Do you forget we hunt this day?”

  Gillian looked to Sir Owen, then back. “You’re going hunting?”

  “Aye,” said Sir Tristan. “’Twill be great sport.”

  Kellen shot a glare in his direction. “We go because we need the meat, and to train the men. ’Tis of necessity, not for the sport of it.”

  Gillian’s brows drew together. “If you’re leaving anyway, why can’t you just drop me off at—”

  “You, however, are to stay here.”

  “So you get to go out, but I don’t? That is so unfair! You were targeted for poison too, you know.”

  Kellen sighed. So much for any kisses coming his way. He shot Tristan a glare that promised retribution as he cast about for another subject. “No doubt you have much planning still to do for the wedding?”

  When her eyes narrowed, he stood. Forget trying for charm, at this point he would go for appeasement. With fumbling hands, he pulled out the bracelet and set it in front of Gillian on the table. “A betrothal gift for you.”

  It suddenly occurred to him he didn’t want her thinking it had been Catherine’s. “It did not belong to my first wife. I commissioned the blacksmith to create it especially for you. I chose the sapphires as they are the color of your eyes.”

  The ladies leaned forward for a better look, but Gillian just stared at it, her face expressionless. Kellen could feel himself start to sweat again. “Do you not like it?”

  She bit her lip then slowly looked up. “You have to marry me, right? Because you need more land, more money, and an heir. Would any of my… um… sisters… have been just as good?”

  Kellen’s mouth parted. “Nay!” The last thing h
e wanted was Gillian believing such. He truly wanted none but her.

  Wishing they were alone, Kellen spared a quick glance at their audience, but there was no hope for it. He could not leave Gillian believing such nonsense. “More land means more opportunity for my knights, my dependants, and someday, for our children. So, aye, the dowry you bring will be of much benefit to all. Those are the reasons I have to marry you.”

  Gillian nodded and looked down at her hands as Tristan and Owen frantically motioned him to cease talking.

  Kellen sank to the bench and took her hand. “But now let me tell you the reasons I want to marry you.” He gently squeezed her fingers. “Your sweetness, intelligence, and playfulness. The way I cannot help but smile when you are about. Your willingness to argue with me which tells me that, despite my size, you know I would never harm you, which I would not. Your kindness and humor.” He cleared his throat as it started to close. “The way you returned my daughter to me.”

  She finally looked up, her gaze questioning.

  He shook his head. “You are the reason I want to marry you. You alone.”

  One of the ladies sighed and Gillian looked hopeful. “Do you mean that? Even if I came to you with nothing but the clothes on my back, with no dowry, would you still mean that?”

  “Aye. I mean it with everything in me.”

  Tears in her eyes, Gillian clutched his hand, then released him, picked up the bracelet, slipped it on her wrist, and admired it. Finally she smiled. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

  He cleared his throat again. “But not half so beautiful as you.”

  Another sigh from the ladies and a smile from Gillian.

  Kellen, deciding it was time to leave, stood and bowed. “My lady.” He strode away, unable to stop his chest from swelling with pride.

  The bracelet had been an excellent idea. And although he’d thoroughly embarrassed himself in front of his men and the ladies, he decided Gillian’s was the only opinion that mattered.

  His men followed and Kellen stopped at the entry and looked back to see Gillian still watching him. He raised a hand and she nodded at him, smiled slightly, but still looked a bit worried.

  When she looked at him like that he wanted to go back, take her in his arms, remove all her concerns, and slay all her dragons. He was glad he’d have the rest of his life to do just that.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Gillian held the stick over the pot with both hands while Marissa coated the wool string, hanging down the middle, with beeswax. “My husband will be one of the guests, of course.”

  The tiny bit of breathlessness in Marissa’s voice had Gillian smiling as she jiggled the stick to shake off the excess drips into the warming pot, splattering the table in the process. “Missed him, have you?” Gillian wiggled her brows and was rewarded by Marissa’s blush. “If he shows up early, does that mean I get to sleep in Kellen’s bed?”

  “Gillian! The things you say.” Marissa turned away to busy herself at another table the servants had placed beside the rosebushes. “Now pay attention. These candles are for your wedding procession and if you are not more careful, the beeswax will harden before you get the desired shape.”

  As if she cared about Edith’s stupid candles. Gillian grimaced at the dripping string, the melting pot, and the small mess she’d made on the table. She had more important things to worry about. “So I was thinking we might plan another picnic soon, you know, right outside the village. What do you think?”

  “I think you need to keep your mind on the wedding. After the candles are finished and bleaching in the sun, I would like you to help Vera and Yvonne with the altar cloth.” She gestured to where the two ladies sat on chairs on the lawn. “I know you will want to have a hand in the embroidery so you can remember it with fondness in the years to come. Then we must needs finish planning the feast and alert the musicians as to the…

  Gillian felt a tug on her apron. “I want to go on a picnic.”

  Gillian glanced down at Amelia’s cute little face and smiled. “Of course you do, darling. And you’re the first one I’ll take with me. I promise.”

  As the little angel grinned, Gillian wanted to grab her up, give her a hug, and spirit her away. Along with her father, of course.

  “Gillian, are you listening? ’Tis time to spoon more wax on. Keep your mind on task. The wedding will arrive before you know it.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Gillian dutifully spooned more wax on the string. “So about that picnic— ”

  “You do not fool anyone as to your purpose, Gillian. There will be no picnic and no visit to the cemetery, of that I can assure you. What there will be is attention to seating arrangements and flowers. You will turn your attention there after the embroidery.”

  Yep, that’s what she wanted to think about. Kellen seated next to Edith while Gillian languished in the dungeon. “As if I give two hoots about seating arrangements.”

  Marissa clapped her hands. “Enough! You will cease being difficult and will act with grace and decorum.”

  Gillian carefully set the stick along the top of the pot, untied her apron and threw it on the ground. She shot Marissa a glare. “You think I’m being difficult? I haven’t even begun yet.” She turned and walked away.

  “Where are you going?” More clapping. “Gillian!”

  Gillian headed for the front gate, marched under the long stone arch and, when she finally reached the exit, completely out of breath, held her head high and attempted to pass by the two guards stationed there.

  They scrambled to block her path. “You will halt, Lady Corbett.”

  Gillian tried to get around them, dodging their flailing arms this way and that, but it was no use. She finally took a step back and sighed. She looked at the taller of the two guards and her eyes narrowed at seeing his overlarge nose. “Hey, I remember you.” She looked at his brown-eyed companion. “And you, too. You guys tried to stop me from going up to the battlements when I first arrived.”

  The brown-eyed man’s brow creased. “Aye, my lady,” he said apologetically.

  Big Nose snorted. “Aye, you were difficult then and look to be difficult now; always going where you should not.”

  “Do you know who I am?”

  “Aye, my lady,” said Brown Eyes.

  “That’s right. I am your lady. Basically that makes me your boss, so stand aside.”

  The big nose lifted into the air. “Never.”

  “I’m sorry, my lady. We have our orders.”

  “Who gave you these orders?”

  Big Nose threw back his shoulders. “Lord Marshall, himself.”

  Gillian crossed her arms. “Lord Marshall has gone hunting. With him away, who do you suppose is in charge?”

  They looked at each other then back at her. “Lady Marissa?” asked Big Nose.

  “No, not Lady Marissa. I am the lady of the castle.”

  “Er… not yet,” said Brown Eyes apologetically.

  She sighed. “Look. I just want to go to the village. What would be the harm in that?”

  “Only that our lives would be forfeit if we disobey our lord.”

  Gillian tried to get past them again and ended up in an undignified wrestling match before she was thrown back, barely retaining her balance. They both tried unsuccessfully to hide smirks and laughter.

  Gillian felt heat rising in her cheeks, looked down, and brushed at her skirt. “Fine.” She looked back up and narrowed her eyes. “But you know what? Maybe there’s a secret exit you don’t know about.”

  They looked at each other then back at her. Brown Eyes looked worried again.

  “That’s right. I will find a way out; you just see if I don’t. And when Lord Kellen comes back and I’m out in the village, I’ll tell him you guys let me through.”

  “My lady, I beg of you,” Brown Eyes held out a hand. “Please do not do this thing.”

  Who was smirking now? There might even be a hidden passageway but, if so, she had no idea where it was. At least they looked
worried. It would have to do.

  Footsteps crunched on the path behind her, and Gillian glanced over her shoulder to see Marissa approaching. She turned her back and rolled her eyes but managed to hold in a scream.

  “Gillian, come here.”

  Gillian held up her hands to the guards in a pleading gesture. “Please let me through and I won’t tell Lord Marshall,” she whispered.

  Big Nose and Brown Eyes drew their swords and it took Gillian a moment to realize they weren’t threatening her as they turned as one to confront three riders traveling up the path on the other side of the gate.

  Marissa arrived in time to watch as wedding presents were delivered. Wedding presents for Kellen and Edith. She smiled. “Ah, yes. We’ve already received cattle and other goods. Is that not wonderful?” When Gillian didn’t react, Marissa nudged her shoulder with her own. “So generous. Do you not agree?”

  Tense and overwhelmed, Gillian’s throat tightened in sudden fear, and she couldn’t respond. She couldn’t even look at the wedding gifts. They made it seem so real, so scary. The wedding would be here before she knew it. Lord Corbett would be here before she knew it! What would happen to her then? Kellen said he’d want her, only her, but when the truth came out, what would happen?

  “Gillian, is it not generous? Are you not pleased?”

  Gillian shook her head and Marissa sighed. “’Tis very generous. We must make sure we are ready when the guests arrive. That the menus are planned and entertainments provided. Come, Gillian, all must be in order.”

  Gillian wanted to scream but restrained herself. She really, really, needed to go and find the place where she was attacked. That had to be the place she could travel back to her own time. It had to be. She sucked in a shuddering breath and followed Marissa. “What I desire is to forget it; to forget the whole thing. I’m going to take Kellen and Amelia and elope.”

  Marissa laughed.

  But Gillian was dead serious. The three of them were out of there at the very first opportunity. She didn’t have a choice.

  * * *