by Tracy Brogan
“And destroy us.”
“Yes, most likely.”
Myles took another hearty swallow. “In that case, let’s hope Tavish returns to Dempsey soon with useful news.”
“Yes, and in the meantime, you must convince your wife we are not monsters.”
“I confess, Father, I find myself at a bit of a loss in that regard. I’ve never encountered so willful a lass. I even turned to Vivi for advice.”
His father burst with laughter, which ended in another cough. “What help could Vivi be?” he choked out. “She’s never had to woo a wench.”
“Aye, and she drove her own husband to the grave. But she seems to have a way with my wife.”
Cedric raised a brow. “Birds of a feather, perhaps?”
Myles smiled against his will. “Vivi suggested I be nice.”
“Nice?” The earl’s other brow joined the first.
“Yes, nice. And so I’ve bought my bride a necklace.”
His father nodded. “Seems the right approach. And what happened when you gave it to her?”
“It’s in my pocket. She annoyed me on our way home, and I’ve yet to give it to her.”
The earl laughed once more. “Give it to her. Perhaps you will sway her yet.”
The talk moved on to other things, mundane details of running such a household, the warmth of the weather, the price of labor for the gristmill roof. The hour grew late. It felt good to simply spend time in his father’s company, without worry of plots and wives and matters of intrigue. But at last, the earl’s eyes began to droop, and Myles acknowledged his own fatigue.
“I’ll leave you to your rest, Father. Sleep well and mend.”
He left the earl’s chamber and walked to his own, wondering what reception he might find there from his wife, if she was even still awake. The necklace felt heavy in his pocket. He should trade it for a kiss, if she’d give one. He chuckled as he put his hand to the door’s latch, but then her words from earlier in the evening whispered through his memory.
I sought only to protect my sister from your advances. I would not force her into my situation.
He flushed with unwarranted shame, and it rankled him to the core, for he had done nothing to feel shameful of. He’d been patient with her, more tolerant of her behavior than most men would be. Ungrateful wench. He’d have her ask for his kisses after all. He’d not force himself on a woman who found humiliation in his touch. Protect her sister, indeed.
He took his hand off the latch and made his way farther down the corridor. He’d take his rest elsewhere and let his wife keep warm in the blanket of her own stubborn pride.
CHAPTER 24
FIONA WONDERED WHERE her husband slept these days. Four nights had passed since he’d left her and his sister on the road heading back to Dempsey. And during those days, he’d been cordial but cool, arriving each morning to change his clothes and then be on his way again. During meals, he might come to the hall and join them, but he just as often dined in his father’s chamber. Fiona passed her time with Vivi and Alyssa. Marietta remained remote, gracious but aloof. So much so that even her own sister began whispering comments into Fiona’s ear.
“Take heart. It’s isn’t you she doesn’t like. She has always been this way.”
Fiona reminded herself it didn’t matter what the wife of Cedric Campbell thought, yet in some tiny corner of her mind, it did.
The ladies were together, sewing in Vivi’s chamber, when a shout rang out, and soon after, a fast rapping sounded on the door. One servant opened it, and there stood another, beaming.
“My ladies. Lord Tavish has returned. And he’s brought Lord Robert with him.”
Alyssa squeaked with joy as she and Vivienne set their mending aside. “Oh, Fiona, you’re sure to adore Robert. But you mustn’t let him tease you. He is notorious for jests.”
Fiona’s heart gave a thump. One more Campbell to be wary of? Wonderful.
Alyssa was out the door, skipping down the hall. Vivienne and Fiona followed at a more leisurely place.
“You look grim,” Vivi said.
“More so than usual?” Fiona had taken to her own kind of teasing with Myles’s aunt, and their friendship seemed to blossom from it.
Vivienne’s laugh was light as she tipped her head to look more closely at Fiona’s face. “No, not more grim than usual. And certainly not so grim as that very first night.”
The women walked through the hall and into the bailey, where Tavish and Myles’s brother were being greeted as conquering heroes of the realm. Fiona spotted Robert instantly, for he bore the look of Cedric but with the more angular jaw afforded by youth. His coloring was lighter than Myles’s, and he had a light-brown mop of curls. He tipped up his face, and his eyes met hers. She nearly faltered in her step, for those eyes of his were the deepest, brightest blue she’d ever seen, more violet than indigo. No wonder women succumbed to him.
Vivienne giggled beside her and whispered, “Mind yourself. He’s an utter rapscallion.”
Myles stepped up next to his brother and turned to follow his gaze. When his eyes landed on Fiona, he frowned and stepped in front of Robert, saying something she could not hear. Robert laughed and nodded.
Fiona felt color heating her cheeks, for whatever was said was most certainly about her.
When her husband turned back in her direction, the lines of his face were more relaxed, and the brothers made their way toward Fiona and Vivienne.
Robert leaned in to kiss his aunt’s cheek. “Vivi, you saucy wench, you haven’t aged a day. Are you some kind of witch?”
“Something like that. Welcome home, Robert.” She kissed his cheek in return.
“I’d have been home sooner, but Tavish slowed me down. Age and too much ale has got to him.” His smile brightened as he teased, for Tavish was right behind him.
“I could still show you a thing or two in the yard, boy. Meet me there tomorrow.”
“Is that a challenge, Uncle?”
Tavish grinned. “’Tis a promise.”
Robert nodded. “Tomorrow, then.” He turned his gaze once more to settle on Fiona. She hoped her face wasn’t bright with pink. The man had a ridiculous amount of appeal, with dimples deep in each cheek and another set in his square chin.
Myles stepped closer, reaching out to clasp her hand and tuck it close into the crook of his arm as if they were the most intimate of partners.
“Robert, ’tis my great pleasure to introduce Fiona Campbell. My wife.” The word was ripe with hidden meaning. Or perhaps not so hidden.
But Robert displayed the most appropriate, impeccable manners, taking her other hand and bowing over it, quick and succinct. “’Tis my honor to meet you, Lady Fiona. I am in your debt.”
Her voice was unsteady. “In my debt, sir? How so?”
He smiled wide. “With my esteemed brother preoccupied by one so lovely as you, I shall have all the available ladies for myself.”
“And a few of the less available ones,” Tavish murmured. “Get along with you, now. Your father is waiting.”
Robert nodded once more and winked at Fiona. “I look forward to becoming much better acquainted, my lady.”
Myles squeezed her hand and pressed her more securely to his side as the party moved toward the great hall.
“Robert has been at court, my dear,” Myles said. “Forgive his forward manner. Now, I shall be with my father for a bit. I trust you can find some entertainment while I’m gone.”
She looked at her husband’s face. ’Twas more words than he had said to her in as many days. And how solicitous they sounded. She’d been left to her own for nearly a week, so why his sudden inter—ah, his brother. Of course. Myles would play the adoring husband for Robert’s sake. What silly folly, for surely Robert was clever enough to know there was no love between her and Myles. Perhaps she should erase any doubt and snatch her hand away from her husband’s arm.
But she glanced over at Robert and found him staring back, a keen glimmer in his eyes
. Perhaps that’s how things were managed at court, but she hoped her own face showed indifference, for it would do her no good to create friction between the brothers. And just as Myles was her enemy, so too was Robert. No matter that he had an archangel’s face and a rogue’s smile.
“I shall find some way to pass the time without you,” Fiona told her husband, keeping her voice and expression deliberately bland.
Myles returned a smile that seemed both grateful and strained. “In that case, I look forward to seeing you at dinner.” Then he caught her chin with his fingertips and pressed his lips to hers, so hard and fast it felt more a brand than a kiss. She knew it was for Robert’s sake, but it tingled nonetheless and left a hollowness in her chest when her husband pulled away.
Myles’s mother was with the earl, fussing about as ever, when the men entered the chamber. She spotted Robert and dropped the brush from her hands into her husband’s lap.
“Robert! How grand!” She crossed the room fast, wrapping satin-covered arms around her son. “Goodness! You’re too thin.”
“I’ve missed you, Mother. There’s been no one haranguing me for months. And I’m not too thin. I’m solid muscle.”
“You are thin. Doesn’t the king feed you?” She pulled him over toward Cedric.
“Mother, I’ve been on campaign in the borderlands, and the food was putrid, but you may fatten me up while I’m at Dempsey, if you wish.”
Cedric laughed. “Come here, son. Let me get a good long look at you.”
Myles stood to the side, watching as his younger brother sat down on their father’s bed and leaned back against the post, his manner so relaxed it felt as if he’d never left. “Tell me, lad, how fares the king?” asked Cedric.
“Full of plans, as always. He married Marie de Guise a few weeks past and, in her honor, has renovated much of Linlithgow. ’Tis a finer place than Falkland now, though the hunting’s not as good. And he plans to sail around the Highlands toward summer’s end. He’s asked me to join him. And you too, Myles, if Father can spare you here.”
Myles felt a rush of enthusiasm. ’Twas a great honor to sail with the king. But fast on that came the thought of leaving Fiona so soon. Things were as yet unsettled between them, and he should like to be around to put them in a better place before abandoning her. The notion startled him, that he should put her needs, and even his own, before the king’s. The girl was like a ripple in a pond, her every action causing movement all around.
“And what of Douglas and his ilk? Have they been causing problems?” Cedric asked. He gestured for Tavish to come closer. “Did you discover anything?”
Tavish eased into a chair. “King James has sent scouts to scour the area where we were attacked. It’s not likely they’ll find anything, but he has his spies and perhaps they’ll learn something of some use.”
Myles walked over, grasping the post behind Robert’s head and leaning closer. “We were on Fraser land when we were attacked.”
Robert nodded. “Just north of Inverness, Tavish told me. If that’s the case, then likely it was Frasers, with aid from their Douglas cousins. Both clans are riled beyond measure because the king has accused Lady Janet Douglas of conspiring to poison him. She is Archibald Douglas’s sister, of course, and suspect by association. Still, ’tis treason to communicate with Douglas, and the king has evidence they’ve exchanged numerous messages.”
“What messages?” Cedric asked.
Robert shrugged. “I don’t know, exactly, but if the king wants a reason to dispose of someone, he’ll find it. Or create it, if it pleases him.”
“Watch what you say, lad. Talk like that could well put you at the end of a noose,” Tavish warned.
“He’s right, son,” Cedric agreed. “James trusts no one unconditionally. Not even us.”
“So, what happens next?” Myles asked. This talk of treason made him uneasy, for even though it seemed his wife’s family had nothing to do with the ambush, not so long ago the Sinclairs were a target of the king’s wrath. ’Twas only his marriage that protected them now, and his father’s determination to keep them safe. The fragility of the situation chilled his blood.
Robert stood up. “Next, I suggest we have dinner. If Mother says I am too skinny, she must be right.”
Dinner was a joyous affair, and Fiona found herself enjoying it immensely. The great hall was full to the trusses with clansmen eager to greet Lord Robert. As they dined on roasted boar and blancmange, sweetmeats and ambrosia, he regaled them all with ribald tales of his adventures. The wine flowed like a river in springtime, and Fiona soon grew warm with drink and merriment as the boisterous din of revelers buzzed in her ears.
Throughout the evening, her husband was ever present by her side, offering bites of some delectable morsel or bidding the server to fill her cup again. His smile was ready and natural, his posture relaxed, so unlike the Myles of the last few days who’d barely looked her way. If his attention toward her was purely for show, he was a fine actor, for he played the adoring bridegroom with conviction. Or perhaps his brother’s arrival had cast a spell over them all.
“You seem at ease this evening, my lord,” she finally commented.
A shadow passed over his features but was gone as quickly as it had come. “I am at ease, as I should be. My brother is home, my father is on the mend, and I’ve a comely wife by my side.” The look he sent her way was as much a challenge as a declaration, as if he dared her contradiction.
Her tongue twisted in her mouth, with no response at the ready. She smiled instead, and sipped her wine.
For whatever purpose, he wanted Robert to believe all was well, and she could see no reason to dispute it. Her own brothers were in constant competition, and so it seemed to be with these two as well. And indeed, if Robert saw a weakness in his brother’s marriage, he might be the type to take advantage. She had no use for one Campbell pursuing her. She certainly did not want a second.
Myles leaned closer at her silence. “You are comely, you know, when you haven’t that Sinclair scowl upon your face.” His voice sank to a husky whisper as his hand covered her own. She very nearly jumped from her chair at his familiarity. “I might even confess to missing you a bit these last few days,” he added.
The smolder in his eyes was undeniable. Heat from his grasp shot through her like a torch. And if she were an honest woman, she might admit she’d missed him, too.
“’Tis you whose whereabouts have been the mystery. I’ve not hidden,” she answered.
His lips crooked in a lazy smile. “Is that an invitation? A simple word from you, and I’d be most obliged to rejoin you in our chamber.”
He was as clever as a serpent, this husband of hers. He’d left her to her own devices, hoping she’d grow lonely, and well she had, but not so much that she’d encourage his return to her bed. Or at least not so much that she’d admit it.
“I find I quite enjoy the solitude, my lord. I sleep undisturbed and imagine I am still a happy maiden back at home.”
His jaw stiffened as the smile froze on his face. “Imagine what you like, Fiona. The truth cannot be undone.”
She had not meant to rile him, only to put him off. When his eyes went dark and sleepy in that sensual way, when he touched her hand and whispered close, she could not think past her defenses. It was as instinctual as a blink to push him away.
The night took on a different tone for her just then. Her husband turned away and struck up a conversation with Tavish, sitting on the other side of him. Fiona felt a foolish tear well in her eye, and from whence it came, she could not imagine. She blinked it away.
Alyssa was sitting to her right. “Are you well, Fiona?” she asked.
Fiona nodded. “An ash in my eye, I think. Nothing more.”
Hours later, as Fiona undressed with Ruby’s assistance, she thought of her husband and the gleam in his eye when he’d looked her way. Her body tingled in an unfamiliar fashion, and her mind felt equally bemused. He had made no secret about wanting her, yet f
ound another place to spend his nights. For days, he’d made no attempt to seduce her, and she should be glad. She was glad, of course. ’Twas far better to keep him at a distance, for when he’d stroked her hand at dinner, she’d nearly gasped from the burn of it. The flames licked through her even now, though she fought against it. Her Sinclair strength grew weaker by the day.
“Arms up, m’lady,” Ruby instructed. “Let’s get off this shift.”
Fiona raised her arms, obedient as a child, but as the maid eased the garment up and over her head, the fabric grazed against Fiona’s nipples in a whispering kiss and she drew in breath sharp as a pin. She let it out slowly, half wanting to cup her breasts with her own hands to stop their sudden ache. Her body felt odd, hot and cold at once, like water dropped upon a hot skillet, popping and sizzling in a heated dance.
Fiona frowned at her own thoughts. She’d spent too much time with Vivi of late. The woman had far too randy a nature, always speaking about the great pleasures of physical love. ’Twas hogwash. Fiona had tried it. It had not been awful. If truth be told, there’d even been some pleasurable bits, but mostly, she recalled a lot of grunting and chafing. She had no need of that. And yet, her body seemed inclined to disbelieve her mind.
Ruby was back now with a nightdress, the heavy linen one she always wore, and when the garment floated down over Fiona, her traitorous body reacted once more. Images of her husband flashed in her mind’s eye. Myles, lying next to her upon the mattress, kissing her at the inn, urgently pulling her legs around his hips on their wedding night. Lord save her, how could she long for his caress? When had she become so wanton?
Ruby came around to face her, tying the ribbons of her nightdress securely, trussing her up like a swaddled infant. But she was not an infant. And yet, not quite a woman either. She was somewhere in the middle. Of everything. No longer a virgin, but not quite a wife. No longer a Sinclair, nor thoroughly a Campbell. Tears burned in her eyes, and she nudged Ruby’s hands away.
