The Warrior's Queen
Page 24
“Do you have such coin?”
“What will happen to Lyndwood?”
The ladies asked their questions so quickly he didn’t know who to respond to first.
“Highgate End is a wealthy property, but the fur trade isn’t quite that lucrative. Covington offered a substantial sum, one that would indeed have allowed your father to retain Lyndwood for generations to come.”
“Then how—”
“Highgate End,” he began. “Clan Kerr. Your friend Sara.”
Before Gillian could panic, he went to her and grasped her hands, intertwining her fingers with his own. “It is as I told you. Here in Scotland, allies do what is needed to protect their own and those who’ve pledged loyalty to them. Besides, if your father lost Lyndwood, its next lord may have proven unsympathetic to our cause.”
He studied her face. Was she happy? Surprised?
“I know you did not wish to tell Sara, but after all that’s happened, with the Scots pledging their support . . . It was not a very large sum, and your friend was happy to help. Indeed . . .” He winked. “. . . I do believe she is wroth with you for not explaining the situation in the first place.”
“But I didn’t want to burden her,” Gillian protested.
“Friends . . . allies . . . husbands and wives . . . they do not burden each other with their troubles. A burden is unwanted, and I can assure you, all involved very much wanted to help.”
Graeme nearly fell into his wife when Allie stood and hugged him from the side.
“Graeme, thank you!” She squeezed even harder, her tears wetting his tunic.
He put his arm around her, still holding his wife’s hand. Though Gillian didn’t say a word, her smile allowed Graeme to breathe normally again. When a tear fell down her cheek, he released her hand to wipe it away. By then Allie had disengaged herself.
Standing in that small, confined room, crowded with two women he’d not known just a short time ago, Graeme silently thanked every saint he could think of for such blessings. For no matter what battles may lie ahead, he’d face them with this magnificent English queen by his side.
Epilogue
Gillian paced the parapet, watching . . . waiting . . . for any sign of her husband. Though he had attempted to convince her otherwise, she knew this Day of Truce would be dangerous. Much had been at stake, but her husband had gone to great pains to ensure that peace had a chance. If only they could find a way to handle those who would benefit from disorder. Who would take advantage of the situation for their own gain.
Like Father.
She shrugged off the traitorous thought, telling herself he’d done what he needed to do. Now, at least, he was back on the right side. For better or worse, she loved her parents, and it was a relief they no longer had to worry about losing Lyndwood. Her father’s missive, which had arrived just the day before, had been brief, but he’d never been an effusive sort. He’d wished Gillian well, and her husband too, pleading that she and Allie visit soon.
It was a start.
She stared at the horizon, as if not doing so would delay his arrival. The beauty of this land still humbled her. She spun toward the keep and peered at the spot where their chamber was located. Smiling, she remembered the last night before his departure. Graeme had not been jesting when he’d told her the bedchamber was not a place for shyness. Indeed, she’d allowed her curiosity free rein, and that night—
When a pair of arms slipped around her waist from the back, she remembered the last time he’d done that very same thing.
Graeme moved her hair to the side and kissed her neck.
“You’re safe,” Gillian said. Her shoulders relaxed. “How did it go?”
Graeme continued to tease her with his lips. “As well as can be expected.”
“But what does that mean? Did the wardens agree—”
“Not entirely,” he said, spinning her around. “But it’s a start, and all agree that the law needs to change. That what happened with Blackburn cannot be allowed to happen again. I’ll gladly share all with you later, but it’s been two nights since—”
“You’ve pleased me,” she said boldly.
“And you, me,” he said, just as brazenly. “And I don’t care to wait any longer.”
He claimed her lips and Gillian kissed him back with the fervor of a woman who’d worried for three days about the man she loved. And, just as she’d taken to doing a hundred times a day whenever they were together, Gillian pulled back and said, “I love you, Graeme.”
His gaze never wavered. “And I love you, my May Day Queen.”
“May Day? I thought I was your queen every day?”
He backed away, bowed deeply, and stood so tall she had to look up to see his face.
“Every day.” He smiled. A wicked, sensual smile. “And night.”
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Also by Cecelia Mecca
The Border Series
The Ward’s Bride: Prequel Novella
The Thief’s Countess: Book 1
The Lord’s Captive: Book 2
The Chief’s Maiden: Book 3
The Scot’s Secret: Book 4
The Earl’s Entanglement: Book 5
The Warrior’s Queen: Book 6
The Rogue’s Redemption: Book 7 (Coming 2018)
About the Author
Cecelia Mecca is the author of medieval romance, including the Border Series, and sometimes wishes she could be transported back in time to the days of knights and castles. Although the former English teacher’s actual home is in Northeast Pennsylvania where she lives with her husband and two children, her online home can be found at CeceliaMecca.com. She would love to hear from you.
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info@ceceliamecca.com
To Lisa and Tina, my friends forever.
THE WARRIOR’S QUEEN Copyright © 2018 by Cecelia Mecca
Cover Design by Kim Killion @ The Killion Group, Inc.
Edited by Angela Polidoro
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