"How I sleep is no concern of yours." Her movements were jerky as she tucked the blanket around her shoulders, covering the thin shift she'd worn to bed.
"I've seen you with nothing on," he reminded her.
"Don't start." The words were sharp, cutting, but beneath the anger in her gaze, something else flickered, something small and vulnerable that moved him more deeply than her rage.
Yearning slashed through him, the pain more biting than the assassin's sword that had pierced flesh and bone, nearly ending his life six years ago. "I know I hurt you—"
She lifted her chin, her glare freezing off the rest of his apology. "Aye, I was so hurt I wed scarce two weeks later."
The knife turned, drawing an agony of regrets. "Aye, so you did." Absently he rubbed his hand over the ridge of scar tissue that slashed across his side. He had not yet recovered from that near-mortal wound when he'd received word of Rowena's marriage. The news had nearly done what the assailant's attack hadn't. For days he hadn't wanted to live. "That hurt me, too. As was your intent, I'm sure. Eventually, I forgave you because I knew why you wed Padruig."
"You did?" The flush drained from her cheeks.
"To repay me for leaving you without a word. You al-ways were a vindictive lass. If you'll let me explain why—"
"Do you think it matters now?" Her eyes were cool, her temper well hidden.
When had she learned that? he wondered, wanting back the turbulent lass whose wayward tongue had often landed them in trouble. Trouble from which he'd many times extract them both. And here he was once again coming to her aid, whether or not she welcomed it.
"Perhaps you are right. The past is gone, but the present is much in question." He cocked his head. "What are you doing at Blantyre?"
"I'm minding my own business and suggest you do the same."
"That I cannot." Leaning back against the bedpost, he gave her his most charming smile. "Once milady's champion, always milady's champion."
Her eyes narrowed. "I am not in need of a champion. Now leave, or I'll scream the castle down."
"Nay. You will not." To make certain, he moved to the head of the bed, sitting beside her and planting a palm on either side of her hips before she could do more than draw an outraged breath. "Likely no one would come anyway. As you saw last night, Alexander Stewart's court is a loose and lawless place."
She smelled of heather and of woman. He wanted, Jesu, but he wanted, the need all the sharper and more painful because he remembered how it had once been between them. The spark was still there, the pull that had drawn them together from the first. He saw the knowledge mirrored in her widening eyes.
"Don't," she whispered as he lifted a hand to stroke her hair. "Don't."
Lion let his hand fall back on the blanket. "Listen to me, then. I don't know why you've come to Blantyre, but you must leave. Today. This is no place for someone like you."
"I will leave when I've concluded my business."
"Which is?"
Her breasts rose and fell against the blanket as she drew a breath and exhaled. "I seek an audience with the earl." She hesitated. "My—my husband died recently."
"I'd heard that. Did you love him?"
"I wedded him," she snapped, but her eyes gave Lion the answer he sought. They held a jumble of emotions, but the sharp-edged pain of loss was not one of them.
He breathed a silent sigh of relief. "I am sorry, then."
"Thank you. Padruig was very special to me. The bond between us was so strong that I will never wed again."
Minx. Did she think to dissuade him with that? "Are you forswearing all men? Or just me?"
"Especially you. Not that I'd expected to see you again." She glared at him. "Why aren't you dead?"
A warning bell tolled in his head. He quelled it. She couldn't have been a party to that long-ago ambush. She'd loved him then. "Did you hear a rumor to that effect?"
"Nay, but I prayed for it…daily after you left me. If I could have found you, I'd—" Rowena clamped her mouth shut, appalled by her outburst, by the rising volume of her voice. She'd not sacrifice her pride by letting him see how badly losing him had hurt her.
"If it's any consolation, I nearly did die," he said to test her reaction.
Fear chased across her face before she mastered it. "Good."
Lion smiled, cheered by her reaction. "You always were a bloodthirsty lass," he teased. "Is that why you've come to Blantyre? To ride with the Wolf as he subdues the clans?"
"Of course not." She frowned. "Is that why you are here?"
Lion shrugged. "More or less. It is a noble mission, subduing the lawless element in the Highlands."
"I suppose a few clans could stand a lesson in leaving their neighbors' herds alone and not resorting to the sword to settle every grudge or petty dispute," she said absently. "Now will you go and leave me alone?"
"Not till I know why you are here."
"Oh, for heaven's sake," she grumbled. "To swear fealty to the crown for my son's inheritance."
Son. The word battered Lion's insides. If things had been different, she might have had his son. Lion shook away the pain. The longing was harder to ignore. "The king is bound to be grateful." Lion wondered why a Highland lass would even think of following a Border custom. Beneath her defiance, he sensed fear. Of him? Dieu, he had to know. "There is more. Something you are afraid of," he insisted.
She shook her head and looked away. "I ay."
"I will not leave till I know the whole of it." He settled back when he wanted badly to take her in his arms, to coax her into confiding in him as he used to when she'd had trouble with her family. Family. "Is it your brother by marriage? That Eneas?"
"Eneas." The grinding of her teeth was audible. "Aye, the swearing was his idea. And I accompanied him to make certain he did not…" She stopped, appalled at having let down her guard. But it had always been thus between them. From the moment Lion had saved her from a group of bullies, he'd been her friend, her lover, her confidant.
"Did not what?"
Rowena sighed. "Eneas is…" Hateful. Vindictive. "We disagree on the raising of Paddy."
"Your son was named for his father?" he asked tightly.
Rowena nodded. She should have been pleased by the flash of hurt in Lion's eyes, but she wasn't. " 'Tis nothing I cannot handle," she quickly added. "The Gunns are behind me." A few.
"Then why ask the crown to ratify the succession?"
Trust Lion to delve to the heart of the matter. "I…we…think a neighbor might try to swallow us up, since Paddy is so young. But if the earl declared Paddy heir and Finlay and myself his guardians, he would be less inclined to attack."
"Who is this Finlay?"
She explained that, too.
" 'Tis an interesting notion. Very creative, but the timing is not good. Alexander is too busy gathering his army."
"But the ceremony would take only a short time. An hour at most once the decree is drawn up."
"Aye." Lion stood, giving her the space she'd craved from the moment she'd awakened to find him camped on the end of her bed. So why did she feel alone and vulnerable? "The earl speaks of nothing that is not related to his mission here. Let me provide you with an escort home and men to guard your lands."
"I do not want your help, and the Gunns would not want others defending them. Nay. I will see the earl today and plead my cause to him personally." Before Eneas could.
Lion frowned, mindful of Alexander's outburst last night. "I cannot let you do that. Alexander is—"
"Well, you have no say in the matter. I am not tied to you in any way. I—"
"Damn." He sat again, capturing her hands in his large, callused ones. "Must you be so stubborn? I saved your life yesterday, and I have protected you thus far. Can you not admit that I might have your best interests in mind?"
"Ah, just as you did when you left me six years ago?" She snatched her hands from his.
Lion studied her closed features. "Leaving you was the hardest thing I've
ever done. But you are too angry to listen to my explanations," he quickly added. "When you are ready to hear what happened, ask." He stood and stared down at her. "Like it or not, you owe me a debt, Rowena, for saving your life and that of your people. In payment, I ask your promise that you will not ask Alexander about this fealty oath till I can smooth the way."
Rowena glared at him, then nodded curtly.
"I'll leave you then…unless you'd like to invite me to stay." He waggled his brows suggestively.
"I'd sooner keep a pet snake."
"I'm wounded." He clutched his heart, but his dancing eyes challenged her. "But I'll accede to your wishes…for the moment." Lion crossed to the window, movements lithe and graceful as always. It was impossible not to notice that he'd filled out, his shoulders and chest so wide they blocked the light. "Until later, then." His tone was teasing, his eyes boldly confident. He bowed, then slipped out the window.
Rowena melted against the pillows, her muscles weak as water, her brain in a daze. Damn him. He was back in Scotland. Back in her life, however temporarily.
And she was determined to see it was temporary. Never again would she put herself at a man's mercy—especially Lion's.
"I still think you should stay in your room and let me bring you a tray," Sim said as they started down the stairs.
"So you've told me." Rowena kept her pace slow and steady, in sharp contrast to her racing heart. She longed to stay safely in her room, away from the mocking nobles, away from Eneas's gloating smile. Especially away from Lion.
But she was not a coward. Life had taught her to face her troubles—of which there'd been plenty—head-on. So she'd left the comfort of her chamber for the perils of the hall, armored in her best gown. The blue wool was nowhere near as grand as the silks and velvets worn by the ladies last night, but would have to do. Her hair, at least, looked its best, the braids wrapped in a shiny coronet atop her head.
"What if the earl is in the hall? Lion made me promise I would keep you clear of His Grace."
"I do not see why Lion is so insistent on that. My mission is a harmless one. Why, he'll be glad to know that the Gunns are loyal to him. One less clan to fret over."
"The earl is not too pleased with the Gunns, since your husband refused to join his army."
Rowena stopped on the stairs and turned to look up at the squire. "Padruig met with the earl?"
"Aye." Sim shifted uneasily. "Surely you knew."
"That he was coming, aye—Finlay told me, after the fact. But no one ever said…I'd assumed Padruig was killed on his way to Blantyre." Sweet Mary! Had Padruig and Lion met? The notion was unsettling for some reason. "Did you meet Padruig?"
"Nay, lady. I saw him ride up, though. Lion was surprised he came alone in such perilous times."
"For which folly he paid…we all paid." She continued on down the stairs, wondering why Lion had not told her of Padruig's visit or the real reason he did not want her to confront the earl. "He is too high-handed by far," she muttered.
"The earl?"
"Lion."
Sim chuckled. "Bryce says he was born to command and is so often right 'tis a wonder his helmet still fits his head."
"Annoying man."
"Aye, well, that may be, my lady, but there is no man I'd rather ride with, and I know the other lads feel the same. You'll find no braver or more honorable man in all the Highlands," he added with youthful fervor.
Rowena snorted. "I do not care if the archangel Gabriel himself came down to vouch for his character. I do not want Lion Sutherland hovering over me and ordering me about."
"Blantyre is a dangerous place for a lady alone. He is but trying to keep you safe."
Only because he'd like to help himself into her bed, Rowena thought. She had not missed the flare of desire in his eyes this morn. "It galls me that I have relied on him for help."
"We are happy to be of service."
Rowena sighed as she stepped from the stairwell into the corridor with its vaulted ceiling. Down it drifted the din from the great hall, a subtle reminder of the bad company she was forced to keep. Suddenly Sim's presence did not seem so loathsome. Together they headed for the sickroom.
"Yer Harry is sleeping and there is no sign of fever," Felis assured her.
"I will sit with him awhile."
" 'Tis not necessary. I've lassies aplenty glad to sit and wipe the brow of such a handsome fellow."
"I would pay you for your supplies." Rowena fumbled with the thin purse at her belt.
Felis shook her head. "Lion has taken care of that and given my lassies a bit of silver, too."
Lion. Again. Rowena fumed silently as she followed Sim back down the corridor.
"You could return to your room," he said hopefully.
Rowena shook her head. She needed to know what was going on. Lion claimed the earl was angry with the Gunns, but she could not take a chance that Eneas would win the earl over and supplant her as Paddy's guardian. At the doorway to the great hall, she paused, surveying the battleground, as it were.
Despite the fact that it was too late for breakfast and too early for dinner, the neat rows of trestle tables were packed with people. Why weren't the men on the training field? She was relieved not to spot Lion in the crowd. A few people closest to the door glanced at her, dismissed her and went back to their conversations. Just as well; she wanted no undue notice.
"This way, my lady. I think I see an empty spot."
Rowena followed Sim in. As their path took them close to the head table, a hand shot out, grabbed her sleeve and tugged.
"Bring us more ale," ordered an imperious female.
Incredulous, Rowena looked from the restraining hand to the beautiful, haughty face of its owner. "Me?"
"Who else would I mean, wench?" She turned to Lady Glenda, who sat beside her. "Really, your servants want manners."
"Lady Selena," Glenda exclaimed, her face crimson with embarrassment. "This is not one of my maids, but Lady Rowena Gunn whom you impugn."
Lady Selena loosed the crumpled sleeve. "Well, how could I know when she goes about dressed like a kitchen slattern?"
"I thought you had seen her last night. She was dining with Lord Lion," Lady Glenda added pointedly.
Lady Selena's exotic emerald eyes moved slowly, corrosively over Rowena's person. "Why are you dressed so meanly? Has your baggage been misplaced, or are the Gunns truly this uncouth?"
"We may not wear velvet," Rowena said coolly, her pride stung. "But our manners are better than some who do."
A collective gasp swept through Lady Selena's gaggle of silly, preening geese.
Lady Glenda chuckled. "Well said." She pushed back her chair. "As it happens, the lady's baggage was stolen, and I'd forgotten I had promised to lend her some clothes. Lady Rowena, if you would be so good as to withdraw with me to yon seat in the window, we need not bore these ladies with the details." She inclined her head to the fuming Lady Selena, then swept from the table, drawing Rowena with her.
"Thank you," Rowena whispered when they reached the curtained alcove.
"My pleasure. There are times when it is difficult to play the gracious hostess." Lady Glenda sat and folded her flowing skirts close so Rowena might join her. Lowering her head, she studied the table they'd left. "I hate her."
"Lady Selena does have a mean mind and a sharp tongue."
" 'Tis not only that. She is everything I am not—beautiful, graceful, skillful in attracting a man."
Did Lion find her attractive? Despite her own resolve to hate him, Rowena felt a twinge of jealousy. "She is confident of her allure, I'll grant that, but I wager she has the morals of a she cat. She attracts men, then discards them on a whim."
"But I could not bear it if she took Alexander away from me. Even for one n-night."
Rowena was at a loss to offer advice. Her one affair had ended in disaster. Her husband had not desired her enough to bed her, but had continued to visit his longtime mistress instead. The arrangement had suited Rowena,
but had left her with little experience when it came to men. "Do you suspect she has tried to, er, take him away?"
"I suspect everyone." Lady Glenda cast a rueful glance at Rowena. "When I saw you last night, my first thought was that you were young and bonny and he might want you. But then I recalled Lion's face when he asked me to lend you Annie's room." A smile warmed her rawboned features. "I knew I need not worry, for Alexander would never approach the woman of a friend."
"Oh," Rowena said lamely. To shatter Glenda's illusions would be to alarm and alienate her only ally.
"Well, now that that is settled, let us speak of the clothes you will need." She looked Rowena up and down. "Gowns, certainly—"
"What I have is sufficient."
"But before he rode out this forenoon, Lion asked if I had fabric he might buy and if my maids would sew up something for you to wear this evening. Men," she added, shaking her head. "How little even a worldly one like Lion knows of such things. 'Twould take more than a day to measure, cut and sew new clothes for you—"
"I truly do not expect to be here that long. If you would do me a service, I must speak with the earl." Briefly, Rowena recounted her purpose in coming here, but she did not mention her fears about Eneas. Glenda had befriended her, but if Eneas caught wind of her plans…
"I will do what I can, but Alexander is consumed with his mission. You would not believe the troubles he has had in raising the army he needs to do the king's will. To think that men would refuse their viceroy's summons."
"Lion mentioned as much. He said that the earl might be wroth with me because Padruig refused the summons."
"Oh. I do not recall meeting your Padruig, but so many men come and go, at all hours of the day and night. And too, Alexander keeps his business to himself. He says he does not want to bore me with such things. Not that I'd be bored."
Rowena forced a smile, suspecting, for reasons she could not name, that the earl did not confide in Glenda because he did not much respect women. Mayhap it was the way he had so imperiously summoned Lion the night before.
Lion's Lady Page 8
