“Some of those Murrays are here,” bellowed Sir Fingal through the door. “They want to see the lass. Want me to send them up here?”
Brian found himself abruptly shoved aside. He sat up and caught a brief, delightful, glimpse of Arianna’s tempting backside as she hurried behind the privacy screen in the far corner of the room. Sighing, he climbed out of bed, slung his plaid around himself, and strode to the door, his annoyance with his father growing every step of the way. He flung open the door and glared at his father.
“That isnae amusing, Da,” he snapped.
“Didnae intend it to be,” drawled Sir Fingal. “Thought ye might prefer your old fither disturbing ye again rather than having her kinsmen find ye when they started searching for ye. Suspicion they will be starting to look for her soon.”
Brian cursed and hurried to collect his belongings. He hated the thought of leaving Arianna’s bed but he had no choice. She might enjoy some freedom as a widow, but he doubted that her kinsmen would calmly accept her openly sharing her bedchamber with her lover while they were around.
“Ye are leaving?” asked Arianna as she stepped out from behind the privacy screen still lacing up her gown.
“Ye heard my fither,” he said. “Your kinsmen are here. I dinnae think ye want them to catch us together like this. I need to hie off to my old quarters.”
“Ah, weel, hie away then. At least I dinnae call to have ye dragged away by some burly guard.” She was pleased to see him blush and look uneasy.
The soft snickering coming from just beyond the doorway told Brian that his father was still standing there and listening to every word. “I cannae talk about that now.” He kissed her. “Later, love. We will talk about it all later.”
With a sigh Arianna watched him leave. She wanted to hurl herself on the bed and weep, but forced herself to calmly endure the pain twisting her heart. Brian still had not uttered one word about a possible future for them, of how he felt about her aside from lustful and protective, or even if they would find a way to be together later. This was the beginning of the end of her time with him and, if she did not know her kinsmen would soon be with her, she would be on her knees wailing out her grief. It was too soon for it to end. She had not had the time needed to make him want to keep her.
Suddenly not wanting her kinsmen to come anywhere near the bedchamber she had so briefly shared with Brian, Arianna went in search of them. She was only halfway down the stairs when she heard men arguing. Having a very good idea that her kinsmen were in the middle of that argument, she hurried down the rest of the steps. Shock brought her to a stumbling halt at the bottom of the stairs and she stared at the four men arguing with Sir Fingal.
Her cousins Harcourt and Brett had been strong warriors by the time she had left for France and they were even more so now. Brett was stunningly handsome with his black hair and green eyes, his mother always lamenting his lack of a wife at the grand age of five and thirty. Harcourt had a softer type of handsomeness, the mischief in his amber eyes and the curl in his black hair muting the harsh lines of his face. He, too, was often the subject of complaints by the matriarchs of the family for at three and thirty he was also unwed and was an unrepentant rogue.
It was the sight of the two boys she had often played with at family gatherings that truly held Arianna speechless. They had finished growing. Uven and Callum MacMillan could be twins, and were often mistaken for ones, even though Uven was a full three years younger. The last time she had seen them they had been eighteen and barely twenty, still all arms and legs and youthful bravado and eager to finish their training with the MacMillans. Now they were broad-shouldered, leanly muscled warriors. Their red hair had darkened to a coppery color and their green eyes sparkled with a mature mischief to equal the look in Harcourt’s eyes.
“Weel, cousin, do ye plan to greet us properly or just gape at us?” asked Callum.
Arianna laughed and ran to hug them one after another. She was just hugging Callum, marveling at how strong he was now, when she felt him tense. Looking up at his face and idly wondering when he had gotten so tall, she frowned at the expression there. He looked as if he was readying himself for battle.
“Cousin, why is there one of those MacFingal men looking at me as if he wishes to cut my throat?” Callum asked, his voice pleasant enough except that she recognized the steel behind every word, the tone of a warrior prepared to defend her if Brian turned out to be a threat.
“That be my son Brian, Sir Brian,” said Fingal, standing beside Harcourt, his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face. “He is the one who saved your kinswoman’s wee life.”
There was something about the look in Brian’s eye that had Arianna stepping out of Callum’s arms and hurrying to Brian’s side. She ignored the open curiosity in her cousins’ expressions as she took Brian by the arm and led him over to them. As she introduced them to each other and they shook hands, she tried to ignore the silent contest of who could produce the strongest grip and who could withstand it without any sign of pain that all the men indulged in. Even though she thought it a strange thing for grown men to do, she could not suppress a twinge of pride when Brian obviously won.
She was just about to escort them all into the great hall when her cousins surrounded Brian. Sir Fingal responded to a hard look from Brett by grinning and pointing to a door just down the hall. A moment later her cousins and Brian were gone. Arianna started after them, a little concerned about what her cousins intended to do to Brian. They had not looked as if they intended to share tankards of ale and discuss old battles.
“Nay, lass,” said Sir Fingal. “Ye were nay invited. ’Tis monly talk going on in there. Why dinnae ye go and make certain there is hot water for your kinsmen and beds for them to sleep in. With that horde of Camerons that just arrived, we might be needing a few more pallets made up.”
Sending me off to do women’s work so that the big, strong men can plot how to take care of the poor helpless woman’s trouble and enemies, she thought crossly. “I could be of some help in answering what questions my cousins might have.” Arianna started toward the door again.
“Do ye really wish to hear it all explained again? Hear about what Lucette did to ye, how your mon in France lied to ye and mistreated ye? I would have thought ye fair sick of it by now.”
Arianna turned to look at Sir Fingal. His words had been spoken in his usual grouchy tone but there was sympathy in his eyes. She thought over what he had said and sighed. The very last thing she wanted to do was talk about Claud, the Lucettes, or the DeVeaux again. She did not want to be facing her cousins when they heard all about how Claud had deceived her, either. Arianna had not yet recovered from the humiliation of it all.
“Fine then, I will tend to the beds and baths like a good wee lass,” she said, and ignored the way his lips twitched in an almost smile at her cross words. “If they have anything to ask me they can come and find me.”
“I will be sure to tell them to do just that. Let the lassies in the kitchens know that we will be needing a lot more food.”
By the time Arianna reached the kitchens her annoyance over being excluded from the talks between her cousins and Brian had receded. She knew her cousins were not going to take the news Brian had to tell them very well and she would rather not spend time in a small room with four angry kinsmen and Brian. Arianna just hoped that Brian had the time to tell her what was said before she met with her cousins again. As her father was fond of saying, kenning the facts can keep ye from doing or saying something witless.
Brian moved away from Arianna’s four large kinsmen and poured each of them a drink of ale. The barely contained anger of the men made the ledger room feel even smaller than it was. Their impatience to know exactly what danger their kinswoman was in and their suspicions about him were clear to see on their faces.
All their very handsome faces, he thought, with a tug of jealous anger as he served them each a drink. The jealousy he had felt when he had seen Arianna being hugged b
y young Callum had thoroughly surprised him. He had wanted to tear Callum’s arms off.
“What has happened to Arianna?” demanded Callum as he sat on the edge of Ewan’s large worktable. “The message we got didnae give us many details.”
“Did any of ye ken that her husband had a mistress?” Brian asked instead of answering Callum. “That the two wee lads we need to help are his sons by that woman? Or that he ne’er once turned away from that woman?” He nodded in full agreement with the fury that darkened all their faces.
“She ne’er told anyone in the family,” said Brett. “Such news would have spread swiftly and Claud would have found himself facing some verra angry Murrays.”
“Weel, those Murrays would have been even angrier when they kenned the whole truth,” said Brian, and proceeded to tell them about the false marriage and the way Claud, as well as the rest of his family and retainers, had treated Arianna.
“She should have told us all this!”
“She did, but those letters never left France.”
Callum cursed long and viciously with a style that Brian had to admire. “So Arianna believes that we just didnae care how she was treated, doesnae she?”
“Nay,” replied Brian, and then he shrugged. “Weel, mayhaps she did, now and then. I think she was more puzzled o’er it all than anything else. Then, when we realized that her letters had all been read and the ones the Lucettes thought too damning tossed into the fire, she did feel guilty about her moments of doubt. Howbeit, Claud is dead now, murdered by his own brother.”
“Tell us who threatens her now. We saw what looks to be an army forming but a day’s ride from here. Were those the men doing the hunting that ye mentioned?”
“Aye. Lord Amiel Lucette and Lord Ignace DeVeau. Lord of what, I dinnae ken and dinnae care. There is even a question about which Lord Ignace we have chasing us but I dinnae care about that, either. They want those lads and your cousin.” He told them everything that had happened to Arianna since she had left France, all that they knew about Lucette’s plans, and all that they had surmised. Then he told them what had been discovered about Michel and Adelar, something he had not yet told Arianna.
“Jesu!” Harcourt dragged a hand through his long black hair. “We should have brought more men with us. None of these Frenchmen can leave here alive. What they ken about Arianna and those wee lads has to die with them.”
“Agreed,” said Brian, “although I would like to ken who else might have learned the truth about the lads. I suspicion the king and his first cousin ken the truth, but who else? DeVeau would have that answer. S’truth, I doubt he has told Lucette for that mon was still speaking of killing the laddies.”
“We can decide on that when they come to the gates—and they looked verra ready to do that as we slipped round them to get here. That is, if they dinnae all die in battle.”
For almost two hours they drank ale and talked on Arianna’s troubles. There was some talk about the battle to come but they all knew no final plans could be made until there were Camerons and more MacFingals involved. Brian was just beginning to believe he would escape any questions concerning him and Arianna when the men decided to go and wash before joining everyone in the great hall, only to watch Callum shut the door on the other three. The younger man then turned around, crossed his arms over his chest, and gave Brian a look that was both surprisingly mature and a bit threatening.
“I dinnae believe there is anything more that I can tell ye,” Brian said.
“Nay?” Callum smiled but it was not a particularly friendly expression. “Ye have spent many a night alone with my wee cousin.”
“We were fleeing her enemies and hoping to draw at least some away from those boys.”
“All day and all night?”
“Fleeing an enemy is an exhausting business and your cousin is a fine, weel-bred lady unused to such things.”
“Yet she found the time and strength to tell ye all about Claud and his unkindnesses, her sad life with the Lucettes, and, I think, her fears. Or did ye just discover them bit by bit as ye drew closer?”
“I am nay certain what ye are implying.”
“Och, aye, ye are. A mon who does naught but help a lass run and hide or turn a kind ear to her woes doesnae look ready to gut some mon just because he is holding that lady in his arms.”
Brian hid a wince, heartily cursing the man’s keen eye. “Lady Arianna is a grown woman and a widow. If ye have any questions about what did or didnae occur between us mayhap ye should talk to her.”
“I will and she will eventually tell me everything. The lass cannae lie to save her life. What I wish to ken is what ye mean to do about what did or didnae occur between the two of ye.”
“Lady Arianna returned to Scotland to rejoin her family. She is a bonnie, weel-bred, highborn young woman who will undoubtedly make a verra good marriage with a mon of equal standing.”
“Ah.”
“What do ye mean by ah?”
“Just that ye are an idiot.” Callum opened the door and then looked over his shoulder at Brian. “Ye may wish to ponder on the fact that the lass already walked the path of making a good marriage with a mon of equal standing and it led her straight to misery, didnae it?”
Brian glared at the door after Callum shut it behind him and resisted the urge to throw something at it. He had thought a lot on how Arianna had once done as society and her family had expected and how he could give her so much more than that thrice-cursed Claud. It did not matter. If he convinced her to stay with him, marry him, everyone would think he had done the very thing he had sworn he would never do—marry for land and money.
He winced. That concern carried the strong taint of wounded pride. Brian did not like to think that he was so deeply concerned with how others would see him. If Arianna ever thought he had wed her for whatever dowry she would have, for what he could gain, bitterness would settle into her heart. He had seen it happen, watched what everyone had thought such a perfect match turn sour, man and wife no more than cold, bitter strangers. Brian was certain it would hurt less if he let Arianna walk into the arms of another man rather than marry her and watch the warmth they shared fade away.
Shaking his head, he refilled his tankard. There was very little time left for him and Arianna to be together. Tonight would be his last chance to savor the passion they shared for the battle would come tomorrow and, when it was done, she would leave. He sat down, put his feet up on Ewan’s worktable, and began to plot a way to spend at least part of the night with her without risking a long, painful death at the hands of her cousins.
The door to Arianna’s bedchamber began to ease open and she tensed. She could not believe any of the men in Scarglas would attempt to force their way into her bed. In fact, she had looked around the great hall earlier and thought there was probably not another keep in the entire world so fully packed with big, strong, handsome men. Not one of those men would need to try and steal a woman’s favors.
“Arianna?”
“Brian! Ye frightened me,” she complained as she sat up and watched his shadowy form approach the bed. “What are ye doing here?” She thought that low chuckle he made one of the most seductive sounds she had ever heard.
“Why do ye think I am here, love?”
“But what if my kinsmen catch ye in here?”
“They are all abed and I will be out of here ere they open their eyes in the morning.”
“And ye dinnae fear that one of the men ye are sharing quarters with will say something?”
“Nay, as I am sharing quarters with three of my brothers,” he replied as he shed his clothes.
He was pleased that, despite her questions and concerns, she readily curled into his arms when he slipped beneath the bedcovers and reached for her. Brian quickly removed her shift and tossed it aside, his whole body growing taut with need as her warm, soft flesh touched his. He had found his empty bed unbearable. It galled him to have to creep into her bed as if they were doing something shameful,
but, as he kissed her, he knew he would do it again. He would do almost anything to hold her in his arms.
“Ye go into battle soon, dinnae ye?” she said.
“Aye,” he replied with reluctance as he pushed her onto her back, for he wished to keep all talk of the battle to come out of the bedchamber tonight. “The enemy has been slipping inside the berm since the sun set. At sunrise they will be outside the gates.”
“They are already attacking?”
“Nay, just gathering for the attack on the morrow and nay too wisely. They are putting themselves between a berm with only one pass through it and a keep with high, weel-monned walls. Nay a good strategy.” He kissed the hollow at the base of her throat. “But I am nay here because I face a battle on the morrow.”
“Nay?” Arianna sighed with pleasure when he kissed her between her breasts and she ran her feet up and down his calves, enjoying the hair-roughened strength beneath her soles.
“Nay. I would be here nay matter what I was facing on the morrow, e’en if it was just mucking out the stables.” He grinned against her skin when she laughed.
“Good. And it will be e’en better if ye make verra certain that ye dinnae fall asleep and sleep beyond the sun’s rising.” She sighed and stroked his arms with her hands. “’Twould be e’en better if we didnae have to worry about that at all.”
“Aye, but I dinnae think ye want me and your kinsmen to be at odds with each other.”
“Nay, I dinnae.” She wrapped her arms and legs around him. “So best ye get right to work, my fine knight.”
“Your wish is my command, m’lady.”
How she wished that were true. If it was, her one and only command would be for him to love her as she loved him, for him to keep her close by his side forever. Arianna pushed away such thoughts, for they brought only sadness, and kissed Brian. Knowing it would be the last time she held him added an urgency to her lovemaking, but she did not care. She could be facing a lifetime aching for what only Brian could make her feel and she intended to fully indulge her greed until she was glutted with it.
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