Dangerous

by Hawthorne, Julia

  And then, he spoke again.

  “Several visitors are coming to see me later this evening. You’re to remain in your solar until I send a maid to tell you they’ve left.”

  “Why?” she asked before thinking.

  Very slowly, he turned to her with an expression harder than granite. He said nothing, and his condescending mien irked her almost to the point of argument. Fortunately, reason asserted itself. Glenda was on her way to Christian with the startling information Elisabeth had overheard that morning. If she were to confront her domineering husband now, he might change his mind and forbid the trip.

  “Of course, I’ll accede to your wishes,” she said with a demure nod. “I only thought that your guests might enjoy meeting your new wife.”

  The hardness left his features, and he gave her the smile she’d once thought rivaled the sun. “Perhaps another time.” Lifting her hand, he kissed the ring that sparkled there. “It means a great deal to me that you’d think of it.”

  She shifted the discussion to safer topics, such as plowing and the new lambs that had begun appearing in the stable. While they talked, in her imagination, she heard Eric’s voice.

  Be patient, mon cœur.

  And so she would, because in truth she had no choice.

  ***

  Eric listened raptly as Glenda relayed Elisabeth’s message. Loathe to endanger her maid with a letter, she’d entrusted her very sobering information to the girl’s quick memory. Though it only increased his worry, Eric had to admire the lady’s cunning. She understood her opponent well.

  “You’re absolutely certain about this?” Christian asked. When Glenda nodded, he muttered something vile in Gaelic. “The man’s a lunatic.”

  “He does love her, in his own way,” she offered in a helpful tone. “I don’t believe he’d do anything to harm her.”

  “Being a prisoner hurts in ways no one can see,” Eric said.

  “You’re right in that,” Christian agreed. “But short of starting a clan war, how do we get her away from him?”

  “We need a plan,” Glenda answered eagerly. “When I return to Briarton, I’ll share it with Elisabeth so she knows what to expect.”

  “You’ll not be going back,” the young noble corrected her. “It’s too dangerous.”

  She rounded on him, eyes blazing with determination. “I canna leave Elisabeth there alone! She needs me, especially once the baby is born.”

  Her loyalty was admirable, and the stubborn set of her chin made it clear she’d not be swayed. “She could be quite useful, Christian. A maid is all but invisible to Grant, and Glenda can move around Briarton in ways we cannot.”

  “Just tell me what to do,” she added, looking from one to the other.

  “For now, your assignment will be the toughest of all,” Eric warned. “You must wait.”

  “But you’ll devise a way to get Elisabeth free of him,” she countered anxiously.

  “Not to worry, lass,” Christian assured her with an arm around her shoulders. “We’ll conjure up something.”

  ***

  Elisabeth was out walking with Grant when a familiar open carriage drove through the gates. Catching up her skirts, she hurried along as quickly as her clumsy gait would allow, reaching the bailey just as the driver clambered down from his seat.

  “Christian!” Overjoyed, she laughed as he swept her into his arms and spun her about as if he’d not seen her in years. His comforting strength surrounded her, driving away the uncertainty that plagued her more with each passing day.

  “’Tis good to see you, sprite.” Standing away, he grinned at her rounding figure. “There’s a wee bit more of ye now, isn’t there?”

  She smacked his shoulder, then waited for him to help Glenda down. In a new day dress the color of buttercups, she looked fresh as a wildflower. Judging by the pink in her cheeks, she’d thoroughly enjoyed Christian’s undivided attention these past couple of days.

  “Your mother is feeling better, I hope,” Elisabeth said as Grant joined them.

  “She’s on the mend at last.” Glenda unleashed her most brilliant smile on Grant. “I canna thank you enough for allowing me to go home. My parents send you their gratitude as well.”

  “Not at all,” he replied, slipping an arm around Elisabeth’s shoulders. “Though Elisabeth was quite lonely without you.”

  “We’ll have a nice long talk later,” Glenda promised before turning to embrace Christian. “Many thanks for bringing me back.”

  Smiling, he kissed her cheek in a fraternal gesture. “I hope we’ll be seeing you again soon.”

  She returned the smile, then all but skipped inside. Once she’d gone, Elisabeth waited for her brother to reveal whatever strategy he’d concocted before coming to see her.

  “What do ye think of our newest team, Grant?” he asked, patting the neck of the bay nearest him.

  “Good conformation, lovely coloring. Where did you come by them?”

  “Annandale. After our long winter, they’re happy to be out of their stalls. Would you and your wife care for a ride?”

  He’d addressed all his comments to Grant, which irked her to no end. But she understood he was pandering to her husband and did her best to mask her displeasure.

  “Sadly, I cannot get away, but Elisabeth is welcome to accompany you. Assuming you take on no other passengers,” he added with a chuckle.

  Far from humorous, it was a warning, and Christian’s mouth tightened ever so slightly. “I am acquainted with no one hereabouts that I’d be taking on.”

  “Good.” Shouldering past Christian, he offered Elisabeth his hand, guiding her into the carriage. “Enjoy your ride.”

  Before long, the fresh air and her brother’s entertaining conversation drove away her anxiety. They chatted pleasantly about all manner of things, but not once did he refer to the information she’d sent him through Glenda. After a while, she realized they were on a little-used road that flowed beside the stream separating Redmond territory from Colton. As they rounded the curve near Westerly Brook, they halted at the end of a lane that had recently been beaten into the dirt.

  Elisabeth surveyed the unfinished stone house with interest. Built of dark gray schist, the thick walls looked sturdy enough to repel an army. Though only the first floor stood complete, the outlines of the upper rooms rose gracefully against the backdrop of trees. Tall windows were scattered liberally about, covered in lacy grillwork whose beauty disguised its solid purpose. Much like finely wrought chain mail, no sword could penetrate the tightly-woven pattern.

  When Christian turned onto the lane, she angled a look at him. “Why are we stopping here?”

  “You’ll see.”

  As they continued down the road, she saw movement inside the house. When the heavy oaken door opened, only half of it swung inward. If both sides were opened, they’d form a welcoming arch but as it was, only one person could enter at a time. The strategic elements of the small fortress were impressive, and a proud smile tugged at her lips. Only one man she knew would have conceived such a plan for his home.

  “What the Devil are you doing here?” Eric demanded as he approached the carriage.

  “Such a gracious welcome,” Christian teased him. “Do ye receive many guests?”

  With his most somber look, Eric pointed toward the dirt road. “Take her back, Christian. Now.”

  “Don’t be absurd,” she scolded him. “No one followed us.”

  Their gazes locked in a stubborn battle, and for a horrible moment, she feared that he might actually turn her away. To keep her safe, of course, but ’twould hurt beyond measure if he did.

  Finally, he relented, his eyes shifting to a muted blue. “Come inside while Christian and I stable your horses.”

  “I’ll not be staying,” Christian told him. “But thank you all the same.”

  Crossing his arms, Eric laughed. “Afraid to step into the barn with me, mon ami?”

  “I’m no fool,” Christian grinned as he helped Elis
abeth down. “I’m off for a leisurely drive through the valley. I’ll return shortly.”

  The team of horses moved off at an easy trot, their sorrel coats glistening in the sunlight.

  “A wise man, your brother.” Eric stepped from the landing and opened the wrought-iron gate for her with a grand bow. “Welcome to Maison Jordanne.”

  He held out his arms, and she gladly went into them, burying her face in the softness of the simple tunic he wore. Framing her face with his hands, he tipped her head back for a long kiss that made her wish for many, many more.

  In wonderment, she traced the scar on his jaw, the bold lines of his mouth. “Tell me you’re not a dream.”

  His wry grin told her he recognized his own words from their first night together. As he brought her hand to his lips, his eyes glowed a deep, delighted blue.

  “I’m not a dream, mon cœur.” Frowning, he caressed her cheek. When he spoke, his tone was even gentler than his touch. “Christian tells me you’ve been ill.”

  “It’s nothing unusual, Eric. He worries too much.”

  His thumb found the circles she knew shadowed her eyes. “You’ve not been sleeping well.”

  “It’s better now.”

  He bent to kiss her cheek, drifting across her face with feathery touches of his lips. Pressing a hand to her waist, he murmured, “Our child tires you.”

  Mesmerized by his tenderness, at first she didn’t comprehend what he’d said. When his words became clear she tried to pull away, only to have him tighten his grasp.

  “You know?” When he nodded, she nearly whimpered. “But how? Only Mother knows, and she’d not have revealed such a secret.”

  “In truth, I wasn’t certain, but I’ve wondered.”

  “So you tricked me.”

  “Don’t be angry.”

  “I’m not angry.” She added a little smile. “I admire your cunning. It will serve you well in your business dealings.”

  “No doubt.” Laughing, he kissed her soundly. “Come inside. ’Tis best if no one sees you here.”

  Light flooded the interior of the house. To her left she found an ample sitting room with a gracefully arched fireplace but no furniture. The intricate metalwork on the windows spread scrolling patterns across wide oak floorboards that cried out for rugs to soften them. Outside she glimpsed rolling fields and the nearby forest. Though all was wild and untamed, she had no doubt that next spring would find everything in order at the little manor.

  Through the entryway to the right was a receiving area that held only a battered wooden bench and a three-legged table. This room boasted a massive stone fireplace with an oaken mantel that held his sword ready to be snatched up at any time.

  Eric folded his arms as he leaned against a post hewn from a single oak. “What think you?”

  Strolling about the nearly empty room, she tapped her lower lip with her finger. “It needs—something.”

  He chuckled. “It needs a great many somethings. We’re building while we can to finish the upper floor and well house. When they’re completed, I’ll tend to the furnishings.”

  She glanced through the archway into a kitchen devoid of utensils. A bowl of cold porridge on the worktable was the only sign of any sort of food. “What do you eat?”

  “Your father invited me to take my meals at the castle whenever I wish. Beyond that, the women in the village keep me from starving.”

  “How generous of them.”

  Unaccustomed to feeling envy, the covetous edge on her voice shamed her. While she didn’t want him to remain alone, the thought of him sharing any part of his life with another woman made her burn with jealousy.

  To conceal her disquiet, she began to chatter. “A settee before the fireplace.” Avoiding his gaze, she considered the stone hearth as if decorating his common room were the most important task imaginable. “A chair on either side, with tables to match. Woolen rugs to warm the floor. Mother kept some of my old books and prints. I’m certain she’d—”

  “Lise.”

  Startled by the interruption, she spun to find him directly behind her. He rested his hands on the mantel on either side of her head, capturing her neatly between his arms. Tempting her with comfort, offering his strength to her as he’d done so many times.

  “Such a fine house you’re building. Does this mean you’ve found a mistress for it?” Forcing a smile, she met his eyes. They darkened to a murky bluish-gray, and he shook his head. “You must have met a dozen women who suit you.”

  “Only one.” Leaning in, he kissed her before wandering at a leisurely pace along the curve of her jaw. His breath warmed her cheek, sending a tingle of sensation the length of her body. “I’ve no desire for anyone else.”

  Her heart tripped over the words, spoken so quietly she barely heard them. But she felt the truth of them, closed her eyes as he feathered her brow with tender kisses. Under her hand beat his remarkable heart, stalwart and determined as ever.

  Like the elements themselves, Eric existed in the wind and sun, in the sighing of the trees, the cool depths of the forest. Why he’d chosen to love her, she couldn’t say, but it was wrong for his remarkable spirit to be bound to a woman he couldn’t have.

  To gain his attention, she rested a hand on his cheek. When those vivid blue eyes met hers, her resolve wavered, and she forced conviction into her tone. “Eric, you must find someone who makes you happy.”

  “I have,” he replied, turning his lips to her palm.

  She let out an exasperated breath. “Someone else.”

  “There is no one else for me.” He regarded her intently as thunderclouds blew through his eyes. “My heart will have none but you.”

  The revelation should have filled her with sorrow, but instead she felt bolstered by hope.

  Eric hadn’t surrendered to fate. Neither would she.

  ***

  Her hand folded in Eric’s, Elisabeth listened while Christian explained the theory they’d formed about Grant’s treachery. Every word sank into her heart with the weight of the truth and when he finished, she felt filled with lead. “You have no proof of this.”

  “And no way to get it,” her brother affirmed with a bad-tempered scowl. “Unless one of the mercenaries comes forward or Grant confesses.” At her mirthless laugh, he grimaced. “Indeed. But we have Blair’s testimony, and we’ll keep trying for more. Meantime, Briarton is the safest place for you and my little nephew.”

  When he glanced toward her waist, she realized she’d placed a protective hand on her stomach. The foolish girl in her turned to Eric. “I want to be with you.”

  “My farm is all but defenseless. I can’t protect you from Colton.”

  “Then I’ll stay in the castle.”

  “Do you truly wish to start a war?”

  The faces of her dead kinsmen flashed through her mind, and she couldn’t stem the tears flooding her eyes. “’Twas my fault John and the others were killed. They died because of me.”

  Eric’s hands came up to gently frame her face. “No, Lise. They died because Colton will stop at nothing to have you.”

  “But he gave me the cure that saved you.”

  His expression pained, he shook his head. “Your mother said it was nothing but willow bark tea and feverfew.”

  “Then how did you survive?”

  Smiling, he lightly kissed her cheek. “You saved me, mon cœur.”

  “From a madman,” she added. “Grant isn’t who we thought he was.”

  “If you’ll remember,” Christian said, “his father was quite peculiar.”

  “Andrew,” she commented with distaste. “That’s the name Grant has chosen for his firstborn son.” While she spoke, she’d noticed Eric’s puzzled frown. “What is it?”

  “This is important,” he replied, taking her hands lightly in his. Turbulence coursed just beneath the surface of his skin, alerting her that something was amiss. “Why did you think you were barren?”

  “When a woman bears no children, she’s barren.
That’s hardly a mystery.”

  “Did John father any children?”

  She and her brother exchanged wry looks, and she replied, “None that I knew of.”

  “Grant would have known the same,” Christian added tersely, rising from his chair to begin pacing. “Yet much as he craves an heir, he wasn’t concerned about you bearing children. If by some miracle ye bore him an heir, he’d have his legacy. If ye couldn’t–”

  “He’d have an alliance with your father against the enemies you heard Gray talking about,” Eric finished his thought. “Along the border, such an advantage would be priceless.”

  “I’ve gone from broodmare to pawn,” Elisabeth groused. “How very flattering.”

  Christian gave her an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “We’ll set it to rights. We just need more time to gather our proof.”

  “And if you canna find any? I’ve no intention of spending the rest of my life wed to a monster.”

  “I understand your feelings,” Eric said in a soothing tone. “But for now, the best we can do is ensure your safety.”

  “As you’ve always done.” She gave him a grateful smile. “It won’t be easy, but I’ll keep my peace ’til the baby’s born.”

  “That gives us a few months,” Christian commented, determination glinting in his eyes. “Plenty of time.”

  Elisabeth glanced to Eric, who nodded slightly.

  “Christian,” she confessed, “this bairn is not Grant’s.”

  His astonished gaze traveled from Eric to her, and he let out an unexpected laugh. “Thank God. Big as ye are, I thought ye were carrying a plow horse.” He quickly sobered. “What will ye tell Grant when his child is born early?”

  “I’ll deal with that when the time comes. ’Tis all I can do.”

  ***

  After wishing Christian a safe journey home. Grant found his wife in her solar, laughing with Glenda over tea. The maid politely excused herself and scurried off to whatever duties had been set for her. What the girl actually did, he had no idea, but her presence made Elisabeth happy so he tolerated her incessant giggling as best he could.

  Strolling through the sunny room, he went to the window to look out over his freshly planted wheat fields. “So, if I were to ask the wood sprites, might they tell me you’d gone to see Eric Jordanne?”