by Diane Darcy
She bit her lip then slowly looked up. “You have to marry me, right? Because you need more land, more money, and an heir. Would any of my . . . um . . . sisters . . . have been just as good?”
Kellen’s mouth parted. “Nay!” The last thing he wanted was Gillian believing such. He truly wanted none but her.
Wishing they were alone, Kellen spared a quick glance at their audience, but there was no hope for it. He could not leave Gillian believing such nonsense. “More land means more opportunity for my knights, my dependents, and someday, for our children. So, aye, the dowry you bring will be of much benefit to all. Those are the reasons I have to marry you.”
Gillian nodded and looked down at her hands as Tristan and Owen frantically motioned him to cease talking.
Kellen sank to the bench and took her hand. “But now let me tell you the reasons I want to marry you.” He gently squeezed her fingers. “Your sweetness, intelligence, and playfulness. The way I cannot help but smile when you are about. Your willingness to argue with me which tells me that, despite my size, you know I would never harm you, which I would not. Your kindness and humor.” He cleared his throat as it started to close. “The way you returned my daughter to me.”
She finally looked up, her gaze questioning.
He shook his head. “You are the reason I want to marry you. You alone.”
One of the ladies sighed and Gillian looked hopeful. “Do you mean that? Even if I came to you with nothing but the clothes on my back, with no dowry, would you still mean that?”
“Aye. I mean it with everything in me.”
Tears in her eyes, Gillian clutched his hand, then released him, picked up the bracelet, slipped it on her wrist, and admired it. Finally, she smiled. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
He cleared his throat again. “But not half so beautiful as you.”
Another sigh from the ladies and a smile from Gillian.
Kellen, deciding it was time to leave, stood and bowed. “My lady.” He strode away, unable to stop his chest from swelling with pride.
The bracelet had been an excellent idea. And although he’d thoroughly embarrassed himself in front of his men and the ladies, he decided Gillian’s was the only opinion that mattered.
His men followed and Kellen stopped at the entry and looked back to see Gillian still watching him. He raised a hand and she nodded at him, smiled slightly, but still looked a bit worried.
When she looked at him like that he wanted to go back, take her in his arms, remove all her concerns, and slay all her dragons. He was glad he’d have the rest of his life to do just that.
Chapter 27
Gillian held the stick over the pot with both hands while Marissa coated the wool string, hanging down the middle, with beeswax. “My husband will be one of the guests, of course.”
The tiny bit of breathlessness in Marissa’s voice had Gillian smiling as she jiggled the stick to shake off the excess drips into the warming pot, splattering the table in the process. “Missed him, have you?” Gillian wiggled her brows and was rewarded by Marissa’s blush. “If he shows up early, does that mean I get to sleep in Kellen’s bed?”
“Gillian! The things you say.” Marissa turned away to busy herself at another table the servants had placed beside the rosebushes. “Now pay attention. These candles are for your wedding procession and if you are not more careful, the beeswax will harden before you get the desired shape.”
As if she cared about Edith’s stupid candles. Gillian grimaced at the dripping string, the melting pot, and the small mess she’d made on the table. She had more important things to worry about. “I was thinking we might plan another picnic soon, you know, right outside the village. What do you think?”
“I think you need to keep your mind on the wedding. After the candles are finished and bleaching in the sun, I would like you to help Vera and Yvonne with the altar cloth.” She gestured to where the two ladies sat on chairs on the lawn. “I know you will want to have a hand in the embroidery so you can remember it with fondness in the years to come. Then we must needs finish planning the feast and alert the musicians as to the . . .
Gillian felt a tug on her apron. “I want to go on a picnic.”
Gillian glanced down at Amelia’s cute little face and smiled. “Of course you do, darling. And you’re the first one I’ll take with me. I promise.”
As the little angel grinned, Gillian wanted to grab her up, give her a hug, and spirit her away. Along with her father, of course.
“Gillian, are you listening? ’Tis time to spoon more wax on. Keep your mind on task. The wedding will arrive before you know it.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Gillian dutifully spooned more wax on the string. “So, about that picnic—”
“You do not fool anyone as to your purpose, Gillian. There will be no picnic and no visit to the cemetery, of that I can assure you. What there will be is attention to seating arrangements and flowers. You will turn your attention thereafter to the embroidery.”
Yep, that’s what she wanted to think about. Kellen seated next to Edith while Gillian languished in the dungeon. “As if I give two hoots about seating arrangements.”
Marissa clapped her hands. “Enough! You will cease being difficult and will act with grace and decorum.”
Gillian carefully set the stick along the top of the pot, untied her apron and threw it on the ground. She shot Marissa a glare. “You think I’m being difficult? I haven’t even begun yet.” She turned and walked away.
“Where are you going?” More clapping. “Gillian!”
Gillian headed for the front gate, marched under the long stone arch and, when she finally reached the exit, completely out of breath, held her head high and attempted to pass by the two guards stationed there.
They scrambled to block her path. “You will halt, Lady Corbett.”
Gillian tried to get around them, dodging their flailing arms this way and that, but it was no use. She finally took a step back and sighed. She looked at the taller of the two guards and her eyes narrowed at seeing his overlarge nose. “Hey, I remember you.” She looked at his brown-eyed companion. “And you, too. You guys tried to stop me from going up to the battlements when I first arrived.”
The brown-eyed man’s brow creased. “Aye, my lady,” he said apologetically.
Big Nose snorted. “Aye, you were difficult then and look to be difficult now; always going where you should not.”
“Do you know who I am?”
“Aye, my lady,” said Brown Eyes.
“That’s right. I am your lady. Basically, that makes me your boss, so stand aside.”
The big nose lifted into the air. “Never.”
“I’m sorry, my lady. We have our orders.”
“Who gave you these orders?”
Big Nose threw back his shoulders. “Lord Marshall, himself.”
Gillian crossed her arms. “Lord Marshall has gone hunting. With him away, who do you suppose is in charge?”
They looked at each other then back at her. “Lady Marissa?” asked Big Nose.
“No, not Lady Marissa. I am the lady of the castle.”
“Er . . . not yet,” said Brown Eyes apologetically.
She sighed. “Look. I just want to go to the village. What would be the harm in that?”
“Only that our lives would be forfeit if we disobey our lord.”
Gillian tried to get past them again and ended up in an undignified wrestling match before she was thrown back, barely retaining her balance. They both tried unsuccessfully to hide smirks and laughter.
Gillian felt heat rising in her cheeks, looked down, and brushed at her skirt. “Fine.” She looked back up and narrowed her eyes. “But you know what? Maybe there’s a secret exit you don’t know about.”
They looked at each other then back at her. Brown Eyes looked worried again.
“That’s right. I will find a way out; you just see if I don’t. And when Lord Kellen comes back and I’m out in the village, I’ll tell hi
m you guys let me through.”
“My lady, I beg of you,” Brown Eyes held out a hand. “Please do not do this thing.”
Who was smirking now? There might even be a hidden passageway but, if so, she had no idea where it was. At least they looked worried. It would have to do.
Footsteps crunched on the path behind her, and Gillian glanced over her shoulder to see Marissa approaching. She turned her back and rolled her eyes but managed to hold in a scream.
“Gillian, come here.”
Gillian held up her hands to the guards in a pleading gesture. “Please let me through and I won’t tell Lord Marshall,” she whispered.
Big Nose and Brown Eyes drew their swords and it took Gillian a moment to realize they weren’t threatening her as they turned as one to confront three riders traveling up the path on the other side of the gate.
Marissa arrived in time to watch as wedding presents were delivered. Wedding presents for Kellen and Edith. She smiled. “Ah, yes. We’ve already received cattle and other goods. Is that not wonderful?” When Gillian didn’t react, Marissa nudged her shoulder with her own. “So generous. Do you not agree?”
Tense and overwhelmed, Gillian’s throat tightened in sudden fear, and she couldn’t respond. She couldn’t even look at the wedding gifts. They made it seem so real, so scary. The wedding would be here before she knew it. Lord Corbett would be here before she knew it! What would happen to her then? Kellen said he’d want her, only her, but when the truth came out, what would happen?
“Gillian, is it not generous? Are you not pleased?”
Gillian shook her head and Marissa sighed. “’Tis very generous. We must make sure we are ready when the guests arrive. That the menus are planned and entertainments provided. Come, Gillian, all must be in order.”
Gillian wanted to scream but restrained herself. She really, really, needed to go and find the place where she was attacked. That had to be the place she could travel back to her own time. It had to be. She sucked in a shuddering breath and followed Marissa. “What I desire is to forget it; to forget the whole thing. I’m going to take Kellen and Amelia and elope.”
Marissa laughed.
But Gillian was dead serious. The three of them were out of there at the very first opportunity. She didn’t have a choice.
“Father Elliot, can you remain?” With dinner cleared away and everyone gathering in the great hall, Marissa played the part of the good hostess, talking to guests, instructing servants to set out games for the men, and readying a sewing area for the women. It was not as if Gillian stepped forward to do the task. “The men are to play games and would greatly enjoy thy company. Please stay.”
“Gladly, my lady.” His fingers tapped his overlarge belly, and he smiled as he looked about the hall. “I thank you for the invitation.”
Marissa found a seat among her ladies, enjoying the antics and yells of the men as they started playing games of chance and skill. “Come ladies, what plans have we tomorrow to prepare for the wedding? Think you we should . . .”
Marissa realized she was talking to herself. Vera and Yvonne watched Kellen watch Gillian flirt with Sir Royce. Kellen’s face started to flush with anger. Foolish girl.
Marissa hated to admit it, because she enjoyed Sir Royce’s company so much, but she should not have insisted their neighbor gain entrance when he came calling this eve. Kellen had turned all Sir Royce’s men away, but let Sir Royce in to please Marissa. She wished now she’d not interfered.
Gillian curled a piece of blonde hair around one finger as she smiled up at Sir Royce. “The thing is, I lost my bracelet and . . .”
Gillian was yammering away about the bracelet again?
Kellen moved forward to join the pair. “As I told you, I have instructed the villagers to search, but none have found it as yet.”
A sharp pang of jealousy bit Marissa and she tugged too tightly on the embroidery string, puckering the material. If her husband felt half so possessive of her as Kellen did of Gillian, she’d be a happy woman.
When Kellen continued to glare at Royce, the man finally turned away to flirt with Vera and Yvonne. Moments later, when Kellen’s attention was distracted by Father Elliot, Royce turned his attention back to Gillian. ’Twas like watching a live game of chess, acted by very poor players.
Gillian did not help matters by laughing and flirting with the man. Kellen’s attention was soon back upon her; and he was so obviously incensed, Marissa wanted to feel sorry for him. Instead, all she could do was wonder how Gillian did it? How did she make a man such as Kellen feel so possessive?
Yes, the girl was pretty, but she did so many things wrong. She was not proficient at running a household, her sewing was barely passable, she spoke sharply, and could be demanding. She never left Kellen in any doubt about what her needs were, and yet he seemed willing to do anything to keep her happy.
It no doubt helped that she was also kind, caring, and merry. But still, the girl seemed to instinctively know how to get what she wanted from the man in her life. And Kellen seemed so different around her, no morose or dour moods. It gave Marissa hope and made her wonder if perhaps she might change, as well.
Mayhap she could smile and simper her way into her husband’s heart? Mayhap she could even make him forget his perfect first wife and fall in love with her instead?
Marissa dropped the sewing to her lap and sighed. She was tired of suppressing her emotions, tired of trying to convince herself love wasn’t necessary, and tired of being last in her husband’s affections.
Royce moved forward and bowed to Marissa. “My Lady, you look stunning this eve, but then you always do.” Marissa couldn’t help but smile. It was gratifying and it soothed her ego that he made the effort to speak with her.
“I thank you, Sir Royce, I—”
“Sir Royce!” Gillian called out, then glanced flirtatiously at Kellen once more. Marissa could almost see the girl thinking to cause mischief as she purposefully gave Royce a big smile. Royce certainly seemed happy enough with the attention as he hurried once more in her direction.
Marissa sighed again. Men were such simple creatures. Could Royce not see Gillian was using him to make Kellen jealous? Could Kellen not see? Marissa wondered if she should interfere but decided against it, curious to see what Kellen would do.
Gillian played with fire, whether she realized it or not. She smiled at Kellen’s frowns, seeming pleased, and then flirted with Royce all the more. “Sir Royce, I feel so safe with you. If you were to take me for a ride tomorrow, I know I’d feel protected. I’ve been completely cooped up here with nowhere to go.”
Royce’s chest expanded and he smiled, obviously flattered by the attention. Marissa rolled her eyes. Flattered? Truly? And Kellen was jealous? Truly? Could not they both see she was using them to achieve her own ends? Verily, men were simpletons!
“If you could take me to the cemetery, I know a big strong man such as yourself wouldn’t fear anything.” Gillian reached up and placed a hand on Royce’s arm; and Kellen growled, surged forward, grabbed Gillian’s wrist, and dragged her away.
Marissa half rose from her chair, thinking to intervene, but the foolish girl didn’t even look upset. If anything, she looked triumphant!
Marissa sank down again. It would serve her right if Kellen took her off to beat her for her unseemly behavior.
Everyone in the room quieted as they listened to Kellen yelling at Gillian and then . . . laughter? Kellen and Gillian were laughing?
Marissa’s mouth parted. How? How did that girl do it? How did she wrap Kellen around her finger the way she did?
Perhaps Marissa should be asking herself how she could do the same with her own husband? She wondered what he would do if he caught her flirting with Sir Royce. Would he drag her off to laugh with her?
Perhaps Marissa should be more demanding and . . . and . . . flirtatious with her husband? Her heart started to beat hard in her chest at the thought.
“My lady? Are you well?” asked Sir R
oyce.
“I am well,” she answered, her voice breathless.
Perhaps instead of trying so hard to teach Gillian lessons she had no desire to learn, Marissa should pay more attention to the girl and learn from her.
Learn to flirt with her own husband. Learn to seduce her own husband. The thought made Marissa feel faint. She would not dare to talk to her husband the way Gillian spoke to Kellen. Would she? Could she act like Gillian?
She remembered catching Gillian kissing Kellen in the solar like a common maid. And what was her reward for such base behavior? Only that Kellen looked upon her as if the moon and sun rose from her as he lavished gifts upon her.
“Lady Marissa? Are you well?” asked Lady Yvonne.
Marissa waved a hand. “I am fine.” She smiled. She was more than fine. She stared at the exit where Kellen had dragged Gillian and considered how she would feel if her own husband did the same to her. Perhaps she would wear a look of triumph on her face as well.
She sucked in a ragged breath, caught the look Vera and Yvonne shared, forced herself to smile at everyone, and picked up her sewing as if nothing was wrong. As if nothing had changed.
But it had.
Lady Marissa Hardbrook was going to start paying attention and figure out how to seduce her husband. As a man, and therefore a simple creature, he did not stand a chance.
Gripping Gillian’s wrist, Kellen pulled her out of the great hall and around the corner from the kitchens. He needed privacy to discuss the fact that he was Gillian’s betrothed, and she needed reminding.
When he reached the relative privacy of the alcove, he whirled her about, only to catch her smiling at him. His brows pulled together and he frowned. “You flirt with another man in my presence and think it amusing?”
“Yes. Yes, I do. You’re easy to tweak and I got exactly the reaction I’d hoped for.”
He gaped for a moment, at a loss for words, then finally inhaled. “You made me feel this,” he hit his chest for emphasis, “apurpose?”
