Lydan’s mouth dropped open as he stared after them. “… Uncle—is it wise of thee to let the girl go off like that?”
“I trust my nephew.”
Lydan glanced at him, and then at the girl and felt a jealousy that surprised him.
“Am I walking too fast thee, my lady?”
She glanced up at the man beside her whose voice took her away from her wayward thoughts and blushed even harder. “I—I fear I do not have as long of legs as ye.”
He smiled at her Celtic tone that had a harmony to it that was pleasing to the ear. “Then, I shall slow my pace, is that better?”
She nodded wordlessly, but didn’t meet his gaze this time, instead glancing over her shoulder at her father-in-law’s Stewart who followed not but a few paces behind them. Garrick smiled at her shyness; the girl hardly seemed like a widow except for her sad eyes. “I have a confession to make.”
She glanced at him warily.
“Ye see, I had cause for asking thee to walk with me.”
She pulled her hand away lightly, but he held it in place with a smile.
“Nay, my lady, ye need not worry so; I but asked thee to walk with me for I could no longer stand to watch Lord Hastings and the displeasure of it in thine eyes.”
She glanced at him with wide blue eyes and frowned. “Ye—ye knew?”
He smiled softly at her and then turned his gaze away purposefully. “Aye.”
She stopped for a moment and looked down. “It—it would have been improper of me to bring it to Edmund’s attention, yet I could not stomach his coyness any longer! I—I suppose I should thank ye.”
He smiled not looking at her purposefully. “I suppose ye should.”
She smiled then at his teasing words and he saw the delightful dimples that brightened her beautiful face. It was a smiled that would make a man do anything only to get her to do it again, and he returned it with a soft laugh. “Ah, the dimples thy uncle spoke of... Those alone would break a man’s heart.”
She laughed softly despite herself and lowered her eyes, not at all sure of what to think of the man who had seemly rescued her from Lord Hastings, and yet also seemed to disarm her so easily. They walked on and she found herself pulled away with her own thoughts. Truly, she wanted to be as uncomfortable and wary of this man as she had been with Lydan, but in truth—she wasn’t. Though, it was also true that he had yet to do something to offend her, but ‘yet’ was the word. Right now, she had her child to think of—but if he indeed intended to befriend her in truth, then surprisingly she would be pleased. She did not understand why, but somehow she enjoyed his company though she didn’t want to.
As they walked on, she stopped then closed her eyes with a heavy frown as child moved hard within her. She rested her hand on her rounded stomach, as she stilled.
He touched her arm lightly. “Are ye well?”
She nodded and bit her lip, not bothering to look at him. “’Tis but the child…”
He smiled softly and looked at her with gently. “Surely, William’s child does not makes ye look so sad now?”
She didn’t look up as she continued, “Nay, ‘tis only that I wish he were here to share it with me… I miss him and each day I wonder if this is where he would want me to be.”
He watched her with kind eyes. “I believe he would. And soon, it shall be easier and easier to let go of those thoughts.”
She looked up. “Let go?! My thoughts are all I have left of him …!”
He frowned down at her knowing she hadn’t understood his words. “’Tis true… but he is gone, Miranda, and ye must go on without him.” He looked into blue eyes that filled with tears at his words, and he felt his own heart ache.
She did not look at him as she spoke, offended at his words. “…I—I go on because the sun rises without my consent and the day drags me with it, and for a child who deserves to see life and know of the goodness of its father.”
He reached up and wiped away the tear that had slipped from her eye, but she only pulled away warily before she turned to Nigel who lingered at the door with pleading eyes. “…Nigel, please… take me back inside.”
She turned then without a word and left him there in the lush fragrant garden staring after her as she entered the house. He drew a deep breath and turned towards the castle door himself knowing he’d have to satisfy his uncle’s curious questions as to why the girl had returned without him. And it somehow bothered him that she was so wary of him, when in reality he shouldn’t really care at all. Yet somehow, he found himself desiring only to see her smile again, and that alone surprised him even more. His dark brows knit together at the thought, for Sarah’s memory was on its heels and he still loved her as much today as he had then. And he knew he had no right to be thinking about the young girl, and especially not one who was still mourning her own husband—and who was carrying his child within her...! He cursed himself for the direction of his thoughts and promised himself that it would not happen again. She was his cousin’s widow, a relative and he would befriend her as such!
Lydan caught him in the hall, his smiling face held a sarcastic humor that drew his anger even more. “I see she was quick to take her leave of ye also. Did ye try to kiss her then?”
Without warning Garrick grabbed the man’s thin neck with one strong tanned hand and pressed him against the hard stone wall as he glared into his shaken eyes angrily. “Ye would do well, m’lord Hastings, not to speak to of the lady as though she be a common serving wench!”
Lydan swallowed uncomfortably as he stared back unblinking; his face turning purple under the pressure exerted to this throat though he refused to struggle or show fear to the older man. He drew an audible breath, somehow managing a hoarse tense whisper. “I—meant—no—disrespect...”
Garrick’s dark eyes only narrowed even more. “Then ye should take care what words slip from thy lips! And ye would do well to remember that she is as titled as ye and I! That, my friend, changes the rules a bit, does it not?”
Lydan’s eyes narrowed as he considered the other man’s words though he did not answer, his dark distain for it all was written all over his face.
Garrick just shook his head and released him, then brushed past him knocking the man askew though he quickly recovered.
Lydan stared at the older man darkly. The girl, no matter her borrowed title would always be no more than a peasant in royal garment to him, nay… a most beautiful desirable peasant.
His uncle’s Steward stood waiting outside the solar as he entered the great hall; he sighed and walked towards him without a word as the older man opened the door for him not needing to explain his actions. He went in and sat down without a word to find his uncle looking at him curiously. “…And…?”
Garrick took a deep breath, before letting his eyes meet his uncle’s. “It was only a walk, uncle; ye may inquire of thy Steward.”
“I have, the girl means much to me; too much not to worry after her.”
“I only meant to offer her my friendship… We talked about Lydan, he makes her uncomfortable, ye know that?”
“Aye, I know.”
He scowled even harder. “And yet, ye do nothing?”
Her uncle turned his goblet on the polished wooden table thoughtfully. “He is my nephew, and a man like any other, despite it all he would make her a good husband, if she chose it to be so.”
Garrick could hardly answer for the anger that swelled up within him. “I see…”
“But ye have not yet told me why the girl came back without thee?”
Garrick looked at his uncle with dark brooding eyes. “I fear I angered her. We discussed William and her child… and she began to cry… I merely lifted my hand to wipe her tears away, but I fear she took my actions and my words as something else.”
“Ah, and ye meant it not to be more?”
Garrick swore under his breath and clenched down on the anger that was rising within him. “Nay, Uncle. I give thee my word that I did not intend more.”
<
br /> “So Nigel said.”
Garrick leaned back in his chair and studied the man in front of him before he spoke again. “Ye are trying to make me fall in love with the girl, are ye not?”
Edmund took a sip of his cup calmly not bothering to look at his nephew. “I would like nothing better than for thee to bid for her hand, but—I have no control over what a man feels and does not feel.”
Garrick’s eyes narrowed at his words. “No matter what I may feel—” He paused and scowled angrily at the words he had just spoken, before he continued again. “…I shall offer her my friendship if she desires it. But, I do not want a wife and to take a mere girl to the altar—and her with child from another! Nay, I shall not!”
Edmund lifted a hand to silence the younger angry man. “Best ye stop, nephew, before ye regret the words ye speak to me.”
Garrick leaned forward, his arms crossed on the table in front of him, his head bowed slightly as he took a moment to regain control of himself and his swirling thoughts.
His uncle sat reclined watching the younger man with knowing eyes as he lifted his cup to his lips yet again.
Garrick sighed and looked up. “I apologize, uncle. I have nothing else to say, but to warn thee to watch Lydan where the lady is concerned.”
Edmund finished his cup quietly. “I intend to, but if the man bids for the girl’s hand I shall not refuse him.”
“No matter how she feels about him?!”
“Aye, regardless of how she feels. There is more at stake here than a girl’s feelings, Garrick. She is the key to all that I have, and one which my enemies would not hesitate to use against me.”
Garrick considered his uncle’s words well and knew that he was right; Miranda not only carried the only heir to Whittington within her thin frame, but her position alone would allow someone to take control of the castle if something happened to Edmund or the child. “I understand. Have ye told her that ye plan to marry her off as such?”
“Nay… and I hold thee to thy silence also, nephew. Be assured that I shall do what is best for her and for the child she carries. An acceptable suitor will be found, one who shall accept her and my grandchild and treat them well. And one who shall not threaten my title nor holdings should something happen to me, but allow it to pass on to her child as I intended. Truly, it would benefit the man greatly to be so joined to Whittington and to have her as an ally to guard his back.”
“So then ye intend to sell her to guard thy lands.”
Edmund reached forward and poured himself another cup; not bothering to look at his nephew for the hard words he’d just spoken, for in truth he was intrigued by the man’s aggravation on the topic of his daughter-in-law. “I had hoped for her sake to find a man whom she could love—but yes, if she does not find such in the men I bring, in the end she shall have little choice in who she shall wed. But truly, all this it is for her sake and the sake of the child.”
Garrick frowned even harder at the thought of the young girl being forced to marry a man she didn’t love after all she’d been through. Surely, she didn’t deserve such unhappiness as to live in a loveless marriage to a man she hardly knew, but it was none of his affair and he knew it…
“I shall ask for thy silence, Garrick…”
His eyes met his uncle’s and clashed slightly, before he hid the angry look the other man had already seen there. “Aye, ye have my word.”
“Good. The girl need not be burdened with such things until it is absolutely necessary for her to know.” He stood then setting down his cup. “’Tis late, Garrick, so I bid ye goodnight.”
Garrick nodded and watched his uncle walk out of the dimly lit room as he sat finishing his own cup. If the girl only knew what hardship awaited her, surely she would not have come to this place… He closed his eyes and drew a long breath as he reminded himself that in the end it was none of his business, and that it was just his nature to wish justice done—and nothing more...
In her husband’s room Miranda got on her knees; wondering how many times William had done the same in this very place. She prayed for favor and that her child would live to finish the good work his father had started. And she prayed for help no matter what the future held for them both. Truly, she had been happy here and had begun to adjust to life at Whittington until Edmund’s nephews had arrived, and she knew that once they left things would soon return to normal again.
In a dark chamber on the opposite end of the castle a low murmur threaded through the dark night air like a whisper. “…and help the girl and her child in whatever the future holds for them, for surely they do not deserve such sorrow…” He ran a hand through his dark hair and stood pressing his lingering thoughts from his mind. The girl was none of his concern, not now, not ever…
The morning brought no relief to his feelings as Miranda was seated beside Lydan again; she was quiet and pensive, not lifting her eyes to look at any of them and it bothered him. Garrick met Lydan’s smug smile and turned away, wanting nothing more than to pin the man to the wall one more time. Feeling grudging to his uncle for allowing such and even angrier for trying to make him care! His uncle glanced at the three, and then let his eyes fall on her alone as he tried to draw her into conversation, but with a quiet answer she would only turn away again. Lydan brushed her hand once more and she stilled, then without thought she purposefully reached up and pulled the trencher of food onto his lap. She stood and apologized in a soft controlled voice, not bothering to meet any of their eyes as she frowned. “M’lord, I apologize… Nigel, would ye please help Lord Hastings clean this up?”
Lydan looked up at her with narrowed eyes knowing how very lucky she was, for indeed if she had been at his castle, and at his table, she would have found herself knocked to the floor regardless of the child within her. “Ye little—”
Garrick turned towards his uncle and noticed an amused smile that matched his own as he held up a calming hand seeing the anger in his nephew’s cold eyes. “Lydan, please.” He turned his gaze to Miranda who stood quietly with her hands clasped in front of her as she waited. “If ye are finished, Miranda, ye may go.”
She glanced at him and managed to curtsy before she turned, doing her best not to smile as walked away without another word.
Garrick couldn’t hide his own smile that bubble from deep within him.
“I think she did that on purpose!” Lydan said angrily, glancing towards the now empty stairs as he brushed food from his tunic angrily.
Edmund laughed softly. “I know she did. I was wondering just how much more she was going to allow thee, Lydan.”
“What?! Allow me?”
Garrick leaned back smiling at his uncle’s words, enjoying the scene before him immensely.
“Oh, aye, allow ye! If ye wish to bid for the girl’s hand, I shall gladly accept it, but ye have said naught to me about marriage and yet ye brush her hand most tenderly.”
Lydan flushed at his uncle’s words, then looked down and cleared his throat grudgingly before he continued, “I—I suppose there is no sense in denying it, is there? Albeit, I find the girl as attractive as any man at thy table, uncle, I cannot bid for her hand, titled or not.”
Edmund nodded cordially as he considered his words carefully. “As ye say, but then please let me make myself clear also, nephew, so there shall be no question as to my intent. If ye do not wish to seek the girl’s hand in marriage, ye shall cease seeking the girl’s hand all together. Do I make myself clear?”
“Quite.”
His uncle pushed away from the table then and threw down his napkin not at all as upset as they feared, for he had seen something in Garrick’s dark eyes that yet pleased him and gave him hope. “Good. Come now, nephews, we shall be off.”
Miranda sat with the ladies in the weaving room, stitching and embroidering clothes for herself and her child. Though in truth, she had never seen so many clothes in her life. She had two dresses at home, one she wore while the other was being washed, it was that simple. But nothing h
ere was like it was at home. Her thoughts led her back to Chadwick and to her parents, and to Turin… But the tender thoughts ended with the thought of her father’s last request that she marry Egan Wallace... Nay, it was not quite a request, but a soft demand. Although at the time she hadn’t realized it, her father-in-law had saved her from Egan just as William had done. And saved her child from his cruel hand when he had come that day and taken her with him to Whittington, though at the time it had been without her consent.
She could not help but wonder what Egan had thought when he had gone back to Glenton Moor a month later only to find her gone… She wasn’t even sure if Phillip and Thomas would have dared to tell them exactly where she had gone to. It worried her in a way, for she loved her father and understood that he only did what he did for her sake, but to marry Egan Wallace would have crushed the very life from her and they both knew it.
She set her work down and let her gaze shift to the open window as she thought of her home and of her family in Chadwick, of Glenton Moor and the man she loved…knowing that one day she would return there again…
The day was quiet; the men had finished their task in Lord Sheridan’s eastern holding, and were riding back in the cool of the day. Lydan leaned forward in his saddle and looked at his uncle as he inquired, “Uncle, what is the lady Miranda’s dowry, if I might ask?”
Garrick looked at the younger man with a frown.
“I am but curious, uncle, ‘tis all.”
Edmund only smiled. “Her weight in gold.”
Lydan swallowed hastily and raised curious brows. “Her weight in gold?”
“Aye, a fair amount I believe, the girl is young and healthy, able to produce an heir, and she is fair to the eye; the gold is only an added measure for what she is lacking. I am well aware that she is Welsh; though ye can see for thyself that she is graceful and charming. I believe it is a rich reward for the man who marries her—for he shall have to agree to raise her child and treat both well, along with agreeing to my demands that he shall not try to gain Whittington from her or her child if something is to happen to me.”
Debra Kay Leland Page 17