Debra Kay Leland

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Debra Kay Leland Page 22

by From Whence Came A Stranger. . .


  It was late afternoon when she heard the familiar sound of Garrick’s booted feet on the cool stone floor, the door was opened and he entered without waiting for a welcome. She stood from her seat by the table as her maid hurried out past him and closed the door behind her. She glanced at him, then turned towards the window again, her voice distant as she spoke, “Welcome, m’lord.”

  His eyes narrowed at her dry tone. “I came to see how ye were faring.”

  She didn’t bother to look at him as she spoke, “I fair well.”

  He shifted on rigid legs and crossed his arms over his strong chest. “Someone would have been up to see thee sooner but we were attacked as we returned last night and I fear thy father-in-law took an arrow in his back.”

  Her face went pale and her eyes shot to his as she sank down wearily in the chair beside her. “Is—is he well?”

  “He shall live. The arrow lodged in the bone, thankfully, and as yet there is no sign of infection.”

  She watched him for a long silent moment seeing the suspicions that lingered in his dark eyes. “It wasn’t Turin! The lad would never do something like that!”

  His mouth drew taunt. “How can ye be so sure?”

  She shot to her feet, her hand resting on the child she carried. “I am sure! I know him! He would never do something like that, never!”

  Garrick lowered his head as he spoke, “I wish I had thy confidence, m’lady. But until it is proven otherwise the men shall be on the lookout for the boy and ye shall remain here.”

  She turned her back on him. “Ye may tell Edmund that I am not his enemy, I only seek to protect my own.”

  “He cannot be sure of thy loyalty; and frankly, m’lady, neither can I.”

  She turned then and faced him with fists clenched at her sides. “How can ye say such a thing…?! Tell him—tell him, that I love him as if he were my own father, and that I would never mean him harm… Tell him!”

  “I shall. ‘Tis late, Miranda, and so I shall bid thee a goodnight.” He left and her maid came in quietly like she always did now, casting her suspicious looks but none that she dared speak aloud; all here making her feel as though she were an enemy of Whittington itself, when in her heart she knew that it wasn’t true!

  That night, she waited for the darkness to hide the tears she would not let fall for others to see. She was afraid for Turin, and for Edmund also; and even as she tried, yet the doubts in her own heart troubled her. For she knew that it could have been Turin who had shot the arrow... The lad was young and easily swayed—and he was an excellent shot with the bow, even better than most men she knew, but the question was—Would he really do it…?! And Why…?!

  Lord Sheridan lay in his darkened room resting, his nephew at his side. “Uncle, it seems to me that Lord Farrington is determined to take advantage of the recent events to merely covet Lady Miranda’s attention and not truly to serve thy interests. I cannot see any good coming from it.”

  His uncle sighed and refused to look at him. “I trust Garrick.”

  “Well, of course… but I believe the man’s reasoning to be clouded where the lady is concerned.”

  “…Meaning what, Lydan?”

  “Meaning that he seeks to help her and thee at the same time, in the end that may not be at all possible. To help her, he must turn his back on thee, and so for her also…”

  His uncle frowned at his nephew’s well chosen words and the throbbing ache from the wound in his shoulder as he hissed through clenched teeth. “Have the guard dispersed, have those men found and brought to me… now!”

  Lydan turned and walked towards the door with a smile on his handsome face.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Miranda sat at the table as the draw bridge was lowered again, listening as another group of men rode out—and she couldn’t help but worry for her brother. What chance did Turin have against a group of armed men?! At a sound of heavy footsteps on the stone floor she stiffened and looked to the older woman who sat quietly by the hearth. She had hardly said two words to her since she’d come here a few days ago, casting her suspicious looks and it unsettled her even more, making her feel as though they thought her a threat to them all.

  The keys jingled in the lock and she waited for it to open, when it did, Lord Hasting strode in with a coy smile on his lean face. “Good day, Lady Miranda.” He said accentuating ‘lady’ with a mocking tone as he glanced at the maid and motioned with his head for her to leave.

  The older woman flushed and glanced at her wordlessly, Miranda stood and faced him. “I would rather have Emma stay if ye don’t mind, Lord Hastings.”

  He laughed as he said, “But I do mind.” And then threw Emma a look that sent her out the door regardless of her words. He smiled and looked around her chambers as he walked in further. “Surely, ’tis too small to be comfortable for such an extended stay.”

  “I manage fine.” She seated herself again and it caught his eye. Making him almost winced at the sight of her rounded belly. It disturbed him that she would bear another man’s child soon, even if it were William’s child. He stepped closer and took the seat across from her on the narrow table and poured himself a cup, then swirled it before he took a sip. “Ah, watered wine… such a treat.”

  She watched him then turned away, not knowing what to do. It was true that Lord Hastings was a handsome man, tall and lean, with shiny waves of reddish hair and faint trimmed beard on his tanned chin. His true blue eyes seemed to look right straight through her—but yet, somehow the sight of him only made her despise him all the more. “M’lord, what reason do ye have to come here like this? I am not accustomed to having strange men in my chambers.”

  He laughed. “Strange men? I assure thee, my lady—” He leaned forward purposefully and lowered his voice as he spoke, “I am not strange.” He laughed then at the blush that crept up her cheeks. “And actually, I believe that Lord Farrington has been here to see thee—several times as a matter a fact.”

  She looked away at his word and stared out the window trying to keep her voice even so he would not sense her uneasiness. “’Tis no matter.”

  “Oh, but it matters to me.” He leaned back and watched her wary face. “Do not be disturbed, Miranda, I plan on being a proper gentleman, I assure thee.”

  She shot him a concerned look. “What purpose do ye have to come here then?”

  He took a drink of the watered wine and smirked at the taste. “Purpose? Only to see thee. Ye are most delightful, surely ye noticed the affect ye have on men? I can hardly be the first man to notice how lovely ye are.”

  She blushed again and turned to the window. “I see no point in this.”

  He laughed as he looked at her with an amused look. “Ye know I cannot imagine how ye do not see things for how they really are… Do ye not know that ye are a pawn, girl, a lovely young pawn, but still a pawn? Ye come here and think that just because ye are William’s widow that ye have a place among those in this castle. I am sorry to say, that ye do not. For now, it is expedient to keep thee contented, but once the child born—well, let us just say that things here are going to change for thee!” He laughed again. “… I doubt ye shall even be allowed to see it.”

  She looked at him, unable to find words to answer back to his hurtful remarks. She stood on shaky legs and faced him hoping he didn’t see how badly she trembled even now. “Leave me!”

  He smiled as set down his cup, and then he stood slowly taking his time, for he much enjoyed the torment he had caused her. “As ye wish.”

  She watched him as he gave her a sly smile before he walked out of the room again. She knew that he had intended his words to hurt her, and they did; but she willed herself not to believe them as she closed her eyes at the sound of his footsteps retreating, his cruel words still whirling around her inside her head making her feel more betrayed than ever…

  If it were true, then she had no place here—and William was right when he had said that they would never be welcomed in Whittington…

>   Lydan glanced back at the girl’s door before he took the stairs satisfied that he had at least unnerved the twit and surely would now make Garrick’s suit impossible to accomplish, and that in itself pleased him beyond measure!

  Miranda sat on the edge of her bed listening to the group of armed guards ride out over the lowered drawbridge. No one had been to see her since the day before, yet she could feel the suspicion everyone had towards her. She leaned back on the bed and curled in a ball, her hand over the child that grew inside her. Her thoughts turned towards William and Turin and were bitter sweet upon her mind. She felt betrayed by Edmund—though in her heart she still cared for him. And by Garrick, whom she had just begun to trust—and yet she kept reminding herself that Lydan had come here only to hurt her and he had, though how much of what he said was the truth, and how much was a lie, she did not know. She closed her teary eyes and was soon asleep…

  When she woke the room was quiet, the sun had already set and a single candle burned upon the table by the window casting the room in its dim golden glow. She heard a soft noise and turned to find not her maid but Garrick seated across the room watching her with soft eyes. She sat up, and ran a hand through her long hair, a soft blush on her cheeks as she spoke. “How long have ye been here?”

  He smiled softly and leaned back. “Long enough to know that ye whisper William’s name in thy sleep.”

  She lowered her eyes at the soft sound in his voice avoiding his dark eyes. “Why are ye here, Garrick?”

  He stood and walked to her, then held out his hand. “It isn’t good for ye to be up here all day like this with no fresh air for thee or the child. Come walk with me in the garden.”

  A soft frown creased her forehead at the mention of ‘her’ child and she remembered Lydan’s words yet again. “The garden? But am I not a prisoner here.”

  He laughed softly. “Ye are not a prisoner, this—” He motioned around the comfortable room. “—is for thy protection, and not thy punishment, I assure thee. Ye carry William’s only heir, m’lady, ‘tis right to do so for now.”

  She looked down as he stepped closer and offered her his hand. “Come.” But she would not take it, Lydan’s words coming again into her mind though she willed them not to… ‘Ye are a pawn, girl, a lovely young pawn… but still a pawn. For now, it is expedient to keep thee contented, but once the child born…’

  He watched the soft frown crease her brow with a look that took her a far away from him. “Miranda?”

  She paused and looked up into his concerned face, then looked down again. “I—I do not wish to go, but I thank thee…”

  He frowned at her. “Tell me what it is that troubles thee so? I can see it in thy eyes, so do not tell me that nothing is amiss.”

  She drew a calming breath against her troubling thoughts. “I—don’t know what to say to thee.”

  He watched her for a long moment. “Do ye wish me to leave?”

  She chocked on her reply, tears slipping down her pale cheeks. “I—I believe so.”

  He frowned at her halted reply, and then turned towards the door without another word. He hesitated, his back to her as he spoke, “I am not sure why ye are acting so, but if ye have need to talk or to have a friend sit with thee after all that has happened here, ye have only to have thy maid come and get me, and I shall come.”

  She couldn’t answer him as he left, closing the door behind him as he went out. He stood in the hall and held his finger to his lips as he glanced towards the guards at the door. Then he listened to the sounds of her weeping from within. He opened the door quietly and slipped in again, standing in the shadows as he watched her curled up upon the bed, her thin frame shaking with the intensity of her tears and it made him worry for her all the more.

  He walked to her quietly and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, she stilled at the soft touch. “Tell me what troubles thee that ye push me away so?

  She slowly shook her head not having words to even express the heartache at the deceitful seeds that Lydan had placed there, nor having the courage to ask Garrick if they were true.

  “I shall not let thee push me away, ye need someone ye can confide in and I shall stand beside thee regardless of what ye do.”

  She turned slowly and looked into his soft dark eyes. “Will ye stand by me when all here have forsaken me?”

  He nodded. “Aye, I shall.”

  She closed her eyes again and drew a shuttering breath, then took his hand and gently held it to her cheek as she closed her eyes.

  He felt his heart clench tightly in his chest at her simple gesture, but he would not break her trust in him and take her in his arms as he willed to do. He touched her cheek gentle and smiled down at her softly. “Come walk with me.” He held out his hand again, she hesitated and then finally took it gently. He helped her to her feet and walked with her to the door. “Can ye manage?”

  “Aye...”

  He smiled softly, “Good, come then, my lady, or I shall be forced to carry thee.”

  She flushed at his joking tone, but he hardly paused to notice as he opened the door. The guards stepped back eyeing her as if she were planning to escape, but with a stiff nod they let them pass. He made no move to explain to them where he was taking her, as he drew her alongside him down the long stairs. They paused halfway down and he looked at her. “Are ye well enough to do this?”

  “Aye.” She said, not meeting his eyes for fear he really would carry her. He merely smiled and led her to the bottom, then out into the beautiful garden where torches had been lit for them to walk. “How did ye know I would agree?”

  He laughed softly and she noticed that he had yet to release her hand. “I was determined not to take no for an answer.”

  She glanced at him with wary eyes, but he said nothing as they leisurely strolled through the beautiful garden. “It—it is lovely.”

  He smiled down at her, she blushed and looked away. Though he was so much older than she, somehow she favored him and trusted him as a friend when she had no other here. “Not as lovely as ye are, m’lady.” He paused, watching her closely as she lowered her eyes, withdrawing from him slowly even though she took not a step back. “Ye blush. Surely someone has told thee how beautiful ye are before?”

  She withdrew her hand from his and turned away remembering Lydan’s words to her. “If truth be told, Lord Farrington, I despise the fact that others notice me. In the village it only brought me misery for I had caught the eye of a cruel man who lived there, one who was determined to force me into a marriage against my will.”

  “But surely William noticed thy beauty and told ye so.”

  She paused at his words that came from behind her now, for she had purposefully stepped away from him. “Aye, I suppose he did, though when he spoke of his love it was not because of my beauty.”

  “But surely, it was thy beauty that drew William to thee; beauty first, and then thy sweet soul.”

  She thought on his words as she stood there with her back to him knowing he hadn’t meant to offend her, but he had. “I suppose so, though the thought does nothing to warm me.”

  He came up behind her and stopped. “Beauty is not a curse, m’lady.”

  She drew a long breath and stepped away frustrated with her thoughts and with his words. “It can be, and I wish not to speak of such again.”

  He frowned at her mood this night, and motioned her farther into the garden hoping that the sweetness of the night would soften her. He walked beside her without a word, trying to read her tangled thoughts as they went. “Ye are troubled this night…”

  She glanced at him and nodded slowly.

  He smiled down gently at her with a frown. “I do not wish it to be so. If ye need to ease thy thoughts, I shall listen.”

  She frowned softly and stepped away. “I see—so that I shall tell ye all of Turin and the men with him. I assure ye, Lord Farrington, that I have already told ye all, to my shame!”

  She felt his hands go around her softly and come to re
st on the child within her and she froze wanting to be angry, and yet she was not. She stood there for a long moment, her heart racing at his gentle embrace, his strong arms around her, his long tanned hands splayed on her rounded belly. She closed her eyes wishing it didn’t feel so right to have him so near… His lips murmured softly in her ear. “The child is restless tonight…”

  She opened her eyes and looked down at his hands knowing he was feeling what she was feeling, and knowing how wonderful it felt to be embraced, to feel cared for… She drew a quick breath at the thought and slowly moved away from him knowing he had purposely avoided the words she’d just spoken and had played on her vulnerabilities instead.

  He straightened and watched her with gentle eyes, but made no move to touch her again.

  She turned away from him, and finally found her voice. “Ye act as if ye did not hear my words and confuse me with yur soft touches, but I shall not be treated as a pawn, Lord Farrington! If ye want answers about all that has happened, I assure ye I have told ye all, for indeed I meant only to protect my bother… And in truth, there is nothing more to add!”

  He watched her carefully knowing he had not mistaken her response to him as he held her, nor the pounding of her heart that he could still feel against his own chest, even now. And truly, it had been such a long time since he had held a woman—felt one soft and sweet in his embrace, and smelled the fragrance lavender in their hair… “I am a man of honor, lady Miranda. I did not bring ye here to try to coerce answers from thee, nor to toy with thee. I enjoy thy company and had hoped that ye too enjoyed mine. ”

  She nodded just once, her back still to him. “But I am a widow—and ye know well how they are treated by men. I saw it in my own village, and I shall not let any man treat me as such, not even ye!”

 

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