“Oh,” Gillian responded, clearly wanting to ask more. Graeme wanted to offer more.
But he didn’t.
When she opened the door to the wardrobe chamber, he sat on the bed and put his head in his hands.
What the hell am I doing?
He should tell her now what he’d realized the evening before.
Gillian loved him.
Even so, the thought of telling her how he felt was terrifying. He needed to do more than simply tell her. Graeme wanted to show her. But how?
He’d have time to consider it on the way to Dunmure. For as much as he loved his wife, he also loved Highgate and its people. And being consumed with thoughts of Gillian had made him complacent. They needed a new healer before something else terrible happened.
“When do you leave?” She’d returned, already dressed in a simple undertunic and kirtle. His wife, lovely no matter what she wore, stared straight at him.
“As soon as Aidan returns,” he clarified. “It could be today. Or tomorrow.”
Neither of them said another word.
He should explain why he’d stayed away after the meal. Or why he had refused her when she’d asked him to let her in.
Instead, he watched her walk to the door. Opening it, she made to leave but then turned toward him instead.
“I wanted to speak to you this morn. To tell you something.”
His body felt as if it were welded to the bed. He should stand. Go to her. Tell her.
“What is it?” Frustrated by his own uncharacteristic lack of decisiveness, Graeme’s tone was harsher than it should have been.
She opened her mouth and then shut it once again. “I don’t want to tell you like this.”
He tried to soften his tone. “Like what?”
Graeme wasn’t trying to frustrate her, but he could tell she was becoming impatient with him.
“You are not like my father,” she blurted. And though he had not known what to expect from her, that was certainly not it.
“I should hope not.”
“He is, or was, an honorable man. With many qualities worthy of admiration. I love him despite his failings, but I’ve treated you unfairly, Graeme.”
“You’ve done nothing of the sort, Gillian. It is I—”
“Please, let me finish.” Though her hand dropped from the door handle to her side, Gillian made no move to come to him. A good thing since he was liable to forget their agreement if she came too close.
“My father wanted a male child,” she said softly. “He never hid the fact.”
Most men wanted the same, to continue their family line. Graeme didn’t care much about that. Any child was a blessing.
“My mother lived to please him, and Allie and I emulated her. I thought it my duty to keep him happy even though it never appeared to work.”
If she was trying to endear her father to him, Gillian was doing a poor job of it.
“But you are not like him,” she repeated. “You accepted me, this clan accepted me, from the very first day I arrived in your lives.”
He didn’t understand. “What is there not to accept? You’re a fine woman, Gillian.”
When she smiled, a small, faint smile that crinkled her freckles, his heart banged against his chest.
“Thank you, Graeme. And you are a fine man.”
“And unlike your father,” he finished.
“In the ways that matter.”
He still wasn’t sure he understood. “And that is what you wanted to tell me?”
When her hand found the iron handle of the door this time, she opened it. “Not precisely.”
“Then what is it?”
She looked at him as intently as a skittish deer might regard a hunter. And then turned when a movement outside the door caught her attention.
“Fiona!” she exclaimed. “What are you—”
“I came to see if my lady needed anything.”
Graeme did stand then and made his way to the door.
“Are you well, Fiona? Are you sure—”
“Very well, my lord,” Fiona replied. “And ready to venture outside.”
Gillian looked back at him, blinking, and then turned to the maid.
“Come, Fiona,” she said. “I am not certain you should be alone quite yet. Perhaps you should ensure, just for a time, you are accompanied by someone. Or at least in the presence of others.”
A good idea, in case the mysterious ailment returned. He had been about to offer his services, but his wife was too quick for him. She’d already reached for Fiona’s arm and guided her away from their chamber.
Gillian looked back at him, and Graeme could not decipher her expression. Resolve? Sadness? Regret? What had she wanted to tell him?
And why did I insist on acting like an utter fool?
I need to make this right.
Why had she not told him?
Gillian left Fiona in Morgan and Allie’s care and missed the morning meal. She needed to think. To devise a plan. Though she still wanted to know what had become of Graeme last night, she had not found the courage to ask. Something was clearly troubling him, and she thought perhaps it had to do with her.
She’d nearly said the words, “I love you, Graeme,” but fear had held her back. She’d spoken instead of her father. Everything she’d shared with him had been true, though it wasn’t exactly a blazing declaration of love.
Tonight. She would tell him tonight. She’d ensure he’d come to their chamber to sleep, and she would surprise him by ending the agreement and telling him how she felt.
“I’ve always wanted a sister.”
She spun around, one foot on the steps leading to the door of the main keep.
“What do you say, Gillian. Can I call you sister? It’s true enough, is it not?”
“Back so soon, brother?”
Aidan bowed as if he’d accomplished a great victory. “You’ll find my men along . . . eventually.”
Gillian looked across the courtyard but saw no one except a few servants.
“We rose at dawn and raced back,” he explained.
“And how goes Brockberg?”
He frowned and looked over her shoulder. “Not as well as expected.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked, immediately alarmed. Had something else happened to disrupt the peace?
“There was an attack on Kerr land the day before I arrived. No one was injured, but the number of sheep stolen, and the quick retreat of the reivers, has Toren rather upset.”
“English?” She almost didn’t want the answer.
“Aye,” he said.
“Graeme mentioned going to Dunmure when you returned,” she said. “To find a new healer.” Gillian did not want to explain all that had happened since his departure. At least she could tell him one happy piece of news. “My sister is here!”
“Is she now? Another sister? ’Tis my lucky day.” Aidan’s expression sobered.
“Something has happened?”
“Her betrothed is dead,” she said. When she saw the look on his face, Gillian said quickly, “She can tell you what happened.”
Aidan’s eyebrows drew together. “It seems I missed much. I saw Graeme on my way inside, but he dodged my questions about you.”
She frowned.
“Gillian?”
Though she adored Aidan, Gillian did not want to talk with him about it. Especially here, out in the open, where anyone could hear.
“We will speak later.” She turned to leave, wanting a bit of privacy. Aidan stopped her with a gentle hand on the shoulder.
“Gillian,” he said, looking around them. “Don’t give up on him.”
She turned back around. “I will not. But he does not make it easy, Aidan.”
When she met his gaze, Aidan’s eyes widened. “You love him.”
She nodded. How could his brother so clearly see what he could not?
“He’s been through quite a lot, sister.”
She smiled at the endearment.
Her brother-in-law was quite astute.
“’Tis my parents. And Lyndwood. I worry what will happen now.”
“You don’t have to share more now.” Aidan must have sensed her unease. “But know you have a family here now too. And Gillian . . . please be patient with Graeme. I promise you will not regret it.”
Gillian wrapped her arms around him “Thank you, Aidan.”
She would not wait for that night. No, Gillian would find Graeme right now. She changed course and made her way to the stables.
A question occurred to her, so she called out to her brother-in-law, “How do you come to be so wise in the ways of love?”
Aidan smirked. “Practice, my dear sister. Lots and lots of practice.”
Gillian laughed and walked toward the stables, greeting the groom and looking in every stall for Graeme. She had seen him walk this way.
“If you’re looking for your husband, my lady, he is gone.”
“Gone?” She looked toward the large double doors. “Where?”
“Dunmure, my lady. He said he would be back in two days’ time.”
It could not be. Graeme wouldn’t leave for that long without saying goodbye. But looking at Aidan’s expression, she knew it was true.
Graeme was gone.
31
Gillian went about her day as normal. With Aidan as Graeme’s second in command, she was not needed to settle disputes, although the castle accounts had fallen to her, and Gillian was glad for it. The numbers had distracted her from the fact that Graeme had simply left Highgate without a word to anyone.
She pushed the ledgers away and looked around the solar, a small room hidden behind the great hall where Graeme conducted much of his daily business. Aidan despised the small space, preferring to sit in the hall instead. And while the candlelit room was dark, with no inside windows or arrow slits to speak of, she rather liked it.
“Gill, are you in there?” her sister called from behind the partially open door.
“Aye,” she replied, sitting back, apparently finished for the day. It was just as well. She could not concentrate any longer.
A vision in pale blue, Allie sat in the only other chair in the room and looked around. “Do you not feel confined in here?”
“Nay.” She shook her head. “Not yet.”
Allie attempted to smile. “I’m sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for it.”
The it was, of course, Graeme’s disappearance. Even Aidan, who had been attempting to mollify her just that morning, telling her not to give up on his brother, was shocked by it. Graeme had never done such a thing before, Aidan insisted. Which did not make Gillian feel any better.
“I’m sure there is one,” she said, the tightness in her chest making itself known again.
“Tell me again, what was the last thing he said to you?”
“We spoke very little this morn, but we did speak about Father, and I thought it would help matters. I didn’t expect . . . this.”
“Nothing else?”
Gillian shook her head. “Nay.”
She’d thought about that conversation, and last evening’s, so many times. There was just nothing to explain his actions.
“Aidan is none too happy with him,” Allie said.
She’d introduced Allie to him earlier that day, and to her sheer delight, the two did indeed get along splendidly. Not surprising since they were very similar.
“He’s come in to check on me more than once. He is very sweet.”
“Sweet?” Aidan said from the door. “That is a word I can say with assurance has never been used to describe me before.”
Aidan entered the room and looked around, his gaze settling on the ledgers in front of her.
“Busy today?”
Gillian leaned forward, putting her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. “I suppose ’tis time to oversee the meal?”
Aidan and Allie exchanged glances. She’d said it without attempting to move.
“Gill,” Allie ventured.
She just wanted to be alone. “I will be along in a bit. You two—”
“Will speak to Fiona,” Allie said. “Do not worry about tonight’s meal. Shall I see if cinnamon-spiced pears can make their way onto the menu?”
“If only someone here would eat such a dish,” Aidan offered good-naturedly.
“I appreciate what you are trying to do,” she said to them both. “But—”
“No ‘buts.’” Allie came around and pulled her out of the seat. “I was going to let you wallow for a bit, but—”
“I do not wallow.”
“I believe you were wallowing,” Aidan said. When she gave him a sharp glance, he amended, “just a smidgeon, my lady—”
“’Tis enough,” she said, standing up. “You are both relentless.”
“That sounds more like me,” Aidan said. “Sweet? If anyone heard you say such a thing . . .”
Gillian chuckled despite herself. “My sweet brother,” she mocked. “If I am to forget, even for a moment, my husband had abandoned me, then I suppose cinnamon pears are our best hope.” She tried to make her voice light for Allie and Aidan’s benefit. Her movements did not match her tone, however. As she followed the two into the hall, Gillian resisted the urge to turn back around and lock herself back inside the small room. Putting one foot in front of the other, and a rueful smile on her face, Gillian prepared for a long, long night ahead.
“Many thanks for your hospitality, Kerr,” Graeme said to Alex, preparing to mount his horse. They stood in the courtyard at Dunmure Tower. “And for your assistance.”
“If you meet up with Reid again before I do, show the boy some manners,” he added.
Of all the Kerr holdings, Alex was closest to Highgate, so it had taken only a few hours for Graeme and his men to reach Dunmure the previous evening. They met after dinner to discuss all that had occurred recently, and Graeme had mentioned seeing Reid at The Wild Boar. Alex insisted his hothead brother did not speak for the Kerr family, at least not in this instance. In fact, Alex agreed with Graeme’s decision and was pleased with Douglas’s decree. Even after the recent raid. Only the survival of March Law would ensure the borderlands the peace they all desperately wanted.
“My pleasure,” Alex said, and meant it.
“Prayers for your wife,” Graeme said. Alex’s wife Clara was due to give birth for the first time any moment.
Alex smiled broadly. “And greetings to your own.”
Graeme had told him about Gillian, leaving out many of the details, including the nagging thought that he did not deserve such a woman.
He nodded, anxious to be back on the road. Then Graeme rode through the gatehouse and onto the muddy road. It had rained earlier in the day, and if the clouds were any indication, it would do so again. His men followed, speaking to each other but not to him. They knew him well enough to detect his mood.
If he’d had any rational thoughts at all, Graeme would have at least told Gillian, or Aidan, that he was leaving. But since he’d planned on visiting Alex anyway, as soon as Aidan returned, he had not stopped to consider anything other than the desire to be left alone with his thoughts. After promptly finding two men to escort him, as was their clan’s custom whenever the chief traveled, he’d had his horse saddled. He’d left without packing a single bag.
She loves you.
He knew well the difference between desire and love. Knew it because he’d desired a number of women before Gillian. And now he also knew what it meant to love—to think of someone every waking moment. To crave their touch and affection. To want nothing more than to see that person smile.
Graeme continued to stew in these same thoughts for hours. Rain threatened, but they pressed on, passing a small manor house that belonged to one of their clan and then Highgate’s small village.
No sooner had they come through the castle gates than the skies opened up, soaking them all. His men quickl
y took shelter in the stables, but Graeme dismounted and walked toward the keep as if it were a bright, sunny day. He watched the puddles around him fill with water. His feet sank into the mud as he came to a decision. This predicament was his fault. He’d dared too much. He’d thought he and Gillian could be intimate without forming a deeper attachment, but such a thing wasn’t possible.
He handed the reins to the stableboy and made his way to the keep. Though it was only midday, the sky had gone dark. As he made his way abovestairs, servants lit candles all around him.
“Graeme!”
His brother.
“Not now, Aidan.” He kept walking.
Aidan stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think so.”
Without any other recourse, he turned to face him.
“You leave without a word and think you can walk in here—”
“I said,” he ground out, “not now.”
They stared at one another, neither willing to be the first to break, until a voice behind Aidan decided the standoff for them.
“Aidan,” Gillian said. “I’d like to speak to my husband, please.”
With a final glare, his brother spun away and stalked back toward the great hall.
He wasn’t ready. She was so lovely, and strong. Could she truly love him?
“Gillian, I can’t—”
“You can,” she said. “And you will. I was worried, Graeme. To leave like that—”
“I’m sorry, Gillian. I need to see Fiona.”
With that, he took his leave. Graeme knocked on the chamber door not far from his own. He opened it just slightly. “Fiona?”
Nothing.
Fear gripped him as he opened it wider. The bed was empty. Surely if something had happened to her, Aidan or Gillian would have—
“Are you lookin’ for someone, my lord?”
The relief almost toppled him to his knees.
“You’re looking well,” he said, trying to act as if he hadn’t worried.
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