"I have come to care a great deal about Lady Gwendolyn's plight. I visit her grave every day with fresh flowers."
Ian was silent. If they were married, and he still had not given up hope on that, he did not want there to be any reminders of Warrick Glencarin here at Davinsham. He certainly didn't want her making a pilgrimage every day to put flowers on Lady Gwendolyn's grave.
It felt good to have the power to grant her a favor. "I will allow it, but only on one condition."
"And what would that be?"
"It would mean your postponing your departure for two weeks. Do you think you could convince your father to agree to that?"
"There would have to be a good reason to do so. He's anxious to return to Ravenworth."
"I can assure you it is the best of all reasons. I petitioned the king again to hear my grievances against Lord Warrick when I learned that you had been . . . shall we say, detained by him."
"You had no right to do that, Ian. My father will do what needs to be done when we get back to England."
"I have every right, and it's already done. I have only to appear with Lord Warrick to hear the king's judgment. There is little doubt that the ruling will be in my favor this time."
Arrian was angry that Ian had taken it upon himself to petition King William. "I don't believe my father and mother will want all the facts made public."
"They won't be. I'll see that the evidence is sealed so that only the parties involved will know about it. All I'll need from you, Arrian, is for you to testify how Lord Warrick held you prisoner. That will ensure his doom. Of course, the meeting will take place whether or not you return to England. I just thought you might like to be here when the outcome is decided."
Arrian was so angry she could hardly speak. Did he really believe she would testify against her baby's father? "When will this meeting take place?"
"I received a letter only today from the king's deputy, informing me that the meeting would be in Edinburgh two weeks hence. I have no doubt, since your name is DeWinter, the matter was brought immediately to the king's attention."
"Is this blood feud destined to go on forever, passed from one generation to another?"
"Let us hope it will soon be over. Do I have your agreement to talk to your father?"
Arrian lost the last bit of respect she had for Ian. "I'll speak to my father."
He took her hand and stared down at the finger where his ring had once rested. "I will only be happy, Arrian, when you again wear my ring."
She pulled her hand from his grasp. "An absurd notion, since I carry another man's child."
He dropped his gaze. "I will raise your child as if it were my own. No one need ever know that I'm not the father."
She could not forget that he had wanted her to be rid of the baby. "But you and I would always know, Ian."
Arrian and Michael stood beside the black-draped coach that was waiting to begin its sad journey. The coach would be returning a daughter of the Highlands to her final resting place.
"Michael, please beseech Warrick to let the feud die with the return of his sister's body."
Michael took a long look at his sister. "I may be younger than you, Arrian, but I know you well enough to sense when you are troubled."
Arrian tucked a golden strand of hair behind her ear and met her brother's eyes. "I wonder if there is anything but sadness in this cursed country. I'll be glad when I'm back at Ravenworth. I'll never again leave, I can promise you that."
"Will you be happy there, I wonder?"
"I . . . what do you mean?"
"You love him, don't you?"
She chose to misunderstand him. "I thought I did. But what I felt for Ian was merely a young girl's fancy for an older man."
"I wasn't referring to Ian and you know it, Arrian. I was asking about the Highlander."
"I am no longer certain what love is, Michael. But I do know this, I don't want to see Warrick suffer any longer."
Michael gave her a quick peck on the cheek, thrust his foot into the stirrup, and threw his leg over his prancing horse. He waved his hand, and the coach moved away. "Don't despair, sister. One never knows what might happen."
Arrian wiped a tear from her eyes and whispered, "Rest in peace, Lady Gwendolyn."
* * *
Raile DeWinter glared at his wife. "I demand to know what is happening here. Damn it, Kassidy, why are we delaying our return to Ravenworth? I have little liking for this place and even less for Ian Maclvors. If your grandfather had not died, our daughter would have been married to him by now. I'm aghast at that thought."
"Don't be such a bear, Raile. Arrian is going home with us. Isn't that what you wanted?"
"What I want is to know what scheme you have buried in that beautiful head of yours. You aren't telling me everything about our daughter."
"Let's talk about that later."
"I've been too long away from you," he said, tugging at the gathered neck of her gown and forgetting for a moment what was troubling him.
"I missed you, too, Raile. Everything goes wrong when you aren't with me."
He loosened the pins in her hair. "I can't think why you stopped me from riding to Glencarin and thrashing Lord Warrick. That man has little time left on this earth, because I will bring him down, Kassidy, and not you or anyone will stop me!"
Her arms inched around his neck. "Everything is not as it seems, Raile."
"Then tell me how it is? Why has my son gone off to deliver a dead body to Glencarin? Will you tell me when in hell did I lose control of my own family?"
Kassidy pressed his face between her hands. "As I told you, there is more to it than you know, Raile. In fact, it's quite complicated."
"I have time," he said, dropping into a chair and studying her with a scowl on his handsome face. "So tell me everything."
Kassidy knelt down in front of him, her apricot-colored gown billowing out about her. She tried twice to say the words, but they stuck in her throat. "Raile, Arrian is going to have Lord Warrick's baby."
She watched emotions play across his face—first anger, then denial, and then a deep sadness. "By God, I'll kill him for this, Kassidy!" He stood up so fast he almost knocked her on the floor. "Why didn't you tell me so that I could have gone with Michael?"
"Because I want to explain to you how it happened, Raile."
"I know how such things happen, Kassidy. What I don't know, in my daughter's case, is why."
"I have explained to you that they are legally married. What I haven't told you is that I believe Arrian loves him."
Raile shook his head. "No. No you don't, Kassidy. I'll never give her over to that man. He has no honor and he took advantage of her innocence. As far as our daughter is concerned, he's a dead man!"
"There is nothing you or I can do to stop her from loving him, Raile. No more than anyone could have stopped me from loving you. I will love you for the rest of my life, and I believe Arrian will be miserable if we don't help her in this situation. She is very troubled, Raile, and she needs us to understand."
His eyes did not soften, but his voice was calmer. "How can you know she loves him? She thought she loved Ian, remember?"
"I remember. But there is a difference between being in love with an ideal and loving a man."
Raile still glared at her. "Don't expect me to understand the workings of a woman's mind. I haven't been in control of my life since I met you."
She went to him and pressed her cheek against his. "Don't understand me, Raile—just love me."
His arms tightened around her, and he held her next to his heart. "I could sooner stop breathing than stop loving you, Kassidy. But damn it—"
She pressed her lips against his, cutting off his speech. There would be time later to convince Raile that Arrian belonged with Warrick Glencarin.
* * *
Barra entered the dining room with a puzzled expression on her face. "M'lord, there is the strangest sight outside. A coach bedecked in black. I told the gentleman, who
insisted on seeing you, that you was dining. He said you'd want to be disturbed for this."
"Who is it?"
"I never saw the likes of him before. But he'll be a proper gentleman, and English, I'd say from the sound of him."
Warrick left the room and hurried to the front door. He stared at the tall young man who stood, hat in hand, beside his horse.
"I'm Warrick Glencarin. You wanted to see me?"
"Yes, my lord. I have come from Davinsham precisely to see you."
Warrick stood eye to eye with the young English gentleman. "You can just return to Davinsham and tell Ian Maclvors that I want nothing from him."
"What I have for you was not sent by Ian Maclvors." Michael opened the door of the coach so Warrick could see inside. "My lord, I will not haggle with you over something so important as your sister's body. You see, I have brought Lady Gwendolyn to you."
Warrick hurried forward, his hand touching the stone coffin with his sister's name carved deeply into the granite. His eyes probed the young man's. "Is this some cruel jest?"
"I can assure you it is not, my lord. It is indeed the body of your sister."
Lord Michael watched Warrick take a staggering step backwards and witnessed the pain that played across his face. "I know how you must feel, my lord. Believe me, if this were my sister, I would not rest until she had a proper burial."
"You said this isn't Ian Maclvors's doing?"
"Ian allowed it after being persuaded that it was the right thing to do."
Warrick stepped to the carriage and ran a trembling hand over the cold stone. "At last, Gwendolyn, you have come home." He glanced up at the young man, whom he judged to be no more than sixteen. "I don't know who you are, but I'm grateful to you."
"If you have no objections, my lord, I would like to remain for your sister's burial."
"May I ask your name?"
"Let's just say I'm someone who wants to see justice done."
Warrick nodded. "Reason enough. Yes, you may attend my sister's burial."
"I have a message for you. There is proof that Lady Gwendolyn did not take her own life. She died by accident."
A tremor shook Warrick's body, and he looked quickly toward the horizon as his eyes misted. "Praise be to God, it is as I'd hoped."
His gaze moved back to the young gentleman. "Whoever you are, you have my eternal gratitude."
Warrick then turned to the stable boy, who looked on in puzzlement. "Ride as fast as you can, Tam, and alert the clan that today we bury my sister."
Warrick knelt while Gwendolyn's body was placed in the stone vault along with untold numbers of Glencarins who had gone before her. The villagers gathered around, their heads bent in prayer.
Michael stood apart from the clan as it buried one of its own. He had purposely asked to stay so he could study Lord Warrick. He saw much to admire in the man Arrian loved. He also thought it was right that they should be together, especially since she was having his baby.
When the ceremony was over and the clan members dispersed, Warrick came to Michael. "You have come a long way. Will you sup with me?"
In truth, Michael wanted to know more about this man, but he dared not remain longer. He'd promised his mother he would return immediately. "I have a long journey ahead of me and I must leave at once."
Warrick ordered Tam to saddle his horse because he wanted to ride alongside his mysterious guest to make certain that no well-meaning clansman took it into his head to harm the lad.
They rode together in silence until they came to the crossroad, then Warrick reined in his horse.
"At first I couldn't think who you were, and then I realized you had to be Arrian's brother, Lord Michael."
"I am."
"I can't say that you favor your sister, but you have the same green eyes as your mother."
"I'm told I favor my father."
Warrick used his powerful leg muscles to control Titus. "Is your sister well?"
There was a serious expression on Michael's face. "As well as one would expect since she is with child."
"So it's true."
"I can assure you it is."
"Is it also true that she works to set aside the marriage?"
"As to that, you will have to find out Monday next in Edinburgh. I understand you will be meeting with Ian and Lord Thorndike."
"Will your sister be present?"
"I shouldn't think so. I don't believe my parents would allow it."
"Well, young Michael, I haven't met a member of your family thus far that I haven't liked."
"I'll carry the message to my mother and sister."
"Arrian was the one who convinced Ian to return my sister's remains, wasn't she?"
"Yes, she was."
"She was also the one who discovered how Gwendolyn died, wasn't she?"
"Arrian can be most persuasive when she feels strongly about something."
"So I've learned."
Michael held out his hand. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, my lord."
They shook hands. "It has indeed, Lord Michael."
"Is there anything you wish me to convey to my sister?"
Warrick's eyes took on a sudden sorrowfulness, but he only smiled. "No. I have nothing to say to her, except to thank her for what she has done on behalf of my sister."
"Is that all, my lord?"
"I will have a proposal to put before your sister after the meeting with Ian Maclvors and Lord Thorndike. But not knowing what the outcome will be, I can't approach her at this time."
Michael turned his horse onto the road. "Good-bye, Lord Warrick. I believe we shall meet again."
26
Unlike the first meeting with Lord Thorndike, where Ian arrived first, Warrick was there an hour before the others. He sat at the council table, his hands folded, his eyes reflecting nothing of what he was feeling.
He had little doubt that today he would be stripped of title and land, and his clan would scatter to the winds. One did not expect the king to overlook a transgression committed against the daughter of the duke of Ravenworth.
No matter what happened today, Warrick had decided to take his sentence without comment. He would make no excuses and would beg no pardon of anyone.
Ian Maclvors sauntered in, followed by his brother, Jamie. Ian's eyes were hard when he looked at Warrick.
"Today is the day I have waited for with great relish, Glencarin. I didn't have to do anything to bring you down." Ian beamed with satisfaction. "Fool that you are, you brought about your own destruction this time."
Warrick stood slowly, his eyes cold and threatening. "I came here today because I was commanded to—but I don't have to listen to the croaking of a bastard."
Ian laughed. "I, a bastard? No, Warrick, you have it wrong. You were surely speaking of your—"
At that moment the door was thrown open and Lord Thorndike entered, carrying his leather satchel. He said nothing as he settled his spectacles on the bridge of his nose and fumbled through his papers until he found what he needed.
"Lord Ian, Lord Warrick, I didn't expect to see the two of you again this soon. It seems nothing will stop this feud between the two of you except His Majesty."
Ian put himself between the mediator and Warrick. "Did the king read my complaint? Is he prepared to act upon it today?"
"With a matter of this great import, you can be sure it was brought to His Majesty's attention as soon as it came to me. You made very serious charges indeed, Lord Ian. I went to Ravenworth to confer with the duke to authenticate your charges. Unfortunately His Grace was not at home."
"The duke of Ravenworth is a guest in my home this very moment, Lord Thorndike."
The mediator looked startled. "Was it not the duke's wish to appear here today?"
"This is Scotland, not England." Ian said, strutting to the table and sitting down. He hooked his thumbs in his belt and leaned back. "His Grace preferred to leave these proceedings to me, and of course to your good judgment."
Lor
d Thorndike's attention turned to Lord Warrick, who had stood silent and brooding. "Are you aware of the new charges against you, my lord?"
"I can imagine."
"Shall we all be seated around the table so we can get on with the proceedings? I have no liking for this and would see it to its conclusion today."
Ian smiled at Warrick but spoke to Lord Thorndike. "All you have to do is hear the circumstances and you'll quickly decide that Lord Warrick has committed a grievous wrong."
Lord Thorndike's expression was serious. "The charges against you, Lord Warrick, are serious indeed. You are accused of abducting Lady Arrian DeWinter."
Warrick leaned forward and folded his arms across the table. "The charge is false as it stands. Lady Arrian was traveling through Glencarin with her aunt, Lady Mary Rindhold, when their carriage overturned and they were brought to Ironworth Castle in a snowstorm. Had they not been rescued by my people, they would both have died in that storm."
Lord Thorndike exchanged glances with Ian. "Is that the truth?"
Ian traced the pattern of velvet on the cuff of his coat. "When I wrote you the letter I believed that my bride-to-be and her aunt had been taken by force. I have since learned that the carriage did indeed overturn." I see.
"But that does not alter the facts of what this man did to Lady Arrian while she was under his protection," Ian said.
Warrick held up his hand, realizing for the first time that what he had done to Arrian might cause her shame in England. "Can I assume anything that is said here today will not go outside this room? I would not like Lady Arrian's name sullied."
"I'm glad you are concerned for Lady Arrian's welfare," Lord Thorndike said. "As it is, Lord Ian has already petitioned me to keep these proceedings sealed so that no damage will be done to Lady Arrian's reputation. I take it that is agreeable with you, Lord Warrick?"
Warrick nodded.
Lord Thorndike cleared his throat. "I shall go on with the charges." He raised his eyes to Warrick. "As I previously stated, the charges herein are most serious, Lord Warrick. I warn you beforehand that, should they prove true, you will be stripped of your title by order of His Majesty. There might even be criminal charges brought against you if the parties involved deem it to be appropriate."
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