With the death of her stepmother in childbirth, as her own had as well, Lara was the only person close to acting as a mother to Catriona, although lately Margaret served such a role as well. While the innocence of her age allowed her a smoother passage through the events of these last weeks, the changes and upheavals here unnerved the girl, and she usually remained in her chambers or in the solar when Lara was there.
Sebastien left her and called Malcolm to him. Philippe followed and Sebastien leaned over to speak with both of them. She’d never seen three more serious faces as the conversation went on for several minutes. Then Malcolm smiled widely at something Sebastien said to him, and he nodded. Without another word, Malcolm came to stand next to her. As Sebastien began his address to the crowd, she felt her brother’s hand slide into hers and squeeze it.
He stretched up so he could whisper in her ear. “Sebastien says that we are his now and that he will care for us.” She nodded to him without answering. He tugged her hand and she leaned down once more.
“He said we have nothing to fear from him.”
She imagined that those words were the very ones spoken by the devil to Eve as he enticed her to sin. Lara glanced across the small distance that separated them and met his clear, green gaze. There he stood, the devil incarnate, tempting her to forget who she was and who he was.
The very worst of it was that she was very tempted to do exactly what he wanted.
Chapter Ten
Dunstaffnage transformed before her eyes over the next weeks—from home of the MacDougalls to prison to the home of the newly elevated Lord Sebastien. No longer restricted to the north tower, Lara was free to roam, and found no guards at her heels as she moved around the keep and the castle grounds.
Malcolm adored Sebastien and spent most of his time dogging his every movement. Catriona had taken a liking to him as well and had been drawn in by the small gifts he always seemed to bring her at supper. Margaret fancied herself in love with Sir Hugh and, although Lara suspected the knight had a nefarious purpose in mind, no words or warnings could convince the maid of it.
The new laird ordered barracks to be built a short distance from the castle, and the men still living in the hall moved there as soon as they were completed. His men seemed to find stationary living very different than their normal situation, but they all adapted to it. Sebastien organized a daily routine of patrols and training that suited those now stationed at the castle. Lara noticed that he stopped wearing his mail and armor while going about his duties—a sure sign of his confidence in their occupation of Dunstaffnage.
True to Sebastien’s word and promise, all remaining soldiers and servants were given the choice of swearing loyalty to him and his king or exile. Although a few chose to leave, most stayed behind and merged into the fighting groups under his command or were assigned new duties by Etienne or Callum.
She overheard Sebastien tell Hugh that this was how Robert would govern once all of Scotland was in his control—in addition to his loyal vassals holding their own keeps, a system of castles under royal governance scattered across the land. Dunstaffnage was simply the first demonstrating this change in the way Robert the Bruce ruled his country. From ragtag groups of warriors, moving in stealth under night’s cover, to well-provisioned and armed castles, the Bruce’s force was stretching.
She continued to gather scraps of information and pass them on to her cousin, although she never heard much back. One day Lara discovered the list of planned supply movements and told Eachann about it. She even described Sebastien’s method of having a heavily armed escort come to Dunstaffnage to travel back to where the provisions were needed. Over the next few weeks, his men were attacked by raiding parties and there were some injuries, but nothing serious enough to bring about retaliation from Sebastien.
Sebastien split the job of steward, assigning Callum to oversee those duties that pertained to the running of the castle itself, and assigning Etienne to oversee the task of moving supplies, men and weapons to and from Dunstaffnage as required. Now, with Callum taking care of things again, it almost felt like home to Lara.
Almost.
Nearly every task she’d done in the past—being in charge of the keep, its supplies and foodstocks, its servants and villeins, everything that did not involve her father’s own duties—was now handled by others. Etienne never consulted her on matters pertaining to the villages or farmlands. Callum listened to her words or requests, but never sought out her opinions or suggestions or followed any orders she tried to give.
Everyone there seemed to know their place, and thrived under the care and control of the new Laird of Dunstaffnage. All but her. The worst part was that she could feel and see the ones she loved the most slipping away from her. And with discouraging news that arrived with each visit of her cousin or his man, Lara felt more and more lost and unneeded. It appeared that other than gathering facts and details for Eachann, she seemed to have no purpose here.
Mayhap, if Sebastien pressured her or forced her to the marriage bed, against her will, she would feel better about her spying. If she could hate him for the way he behaved toward her or her siblings, the passing of information and the subsequent attacks would feel more rewarding.
Instead, he treated her with infinite civility and politeness. After her rebuke of his request on the battlements, he’d not approached her about anything personal again. Strangely, they continued to share a bed. Each morning she awoke clinging to the edge on her side, as though afraid of reaching out to him while asleep. And if she tried to sleep in her chair, she always found herself in the bed and Sebastien gone when she woke.
If she were honest with herself, it was getting very difficult to ignore him. He dealt with everyone in his jurisdiction fairly and protected her family as he’d promised to. He’d created a home in Dunstaffnage where even her sister now moved freely and comfortably on her own.
Although his attempts to physically seduce Lara stopped, he did try to entice her with promises of a return to her previous duties, but she understood the cost of such a thing and could not accept the bribe. She managed to escape from such encounters, though it was growing more difficult each time.
The thing she could not escape from were the memories. Of his kisses. His touch. The way he made her body ache and then satisfied it. Memories invaded her sleep and she found herself watching the way he walked, the way he touched Catriona’s small hand, the way he grasped his sword when training in the yard. Lara longed to reach out and touch the scar on his cheek and to feel the heat in his chest, but pride and fear kept her from doing so.
Eachann had called her a whore and she did not want that to be true. She could not lie with the enemy and keep her self-worth intact. She must continue to thwart his and his king’s plans, and part of that was Sebastien’s plan for her.
As was her custom, Lara was working on her embroidery in the solar when Malcolm sought her out. The morning had dawned clear and sunny and warmer than usual for a mid-September day.
“Come, Lara. Lord Sebastien asks that you join us on the firth,” Malcolm said, grabbing and tugging on her hand.
“I am busy here, Malcolm. Please give Lord Sebastien my regrets.” She shook free of his grasp. Errant thoughts of him now invaded her waking hours as alluring daydreams, and so the less she was in his company the better.
Margaret sighed loudly and Lara knew the meaning of the censuring sound immediately. The maid continued moving her hands deftly over the fabric and never missed a stitch. “Milady, you have made much progress on that. A bit of time outside might refresh your spirits.”
“And give you time with Sir Hugh, Margaret?”
The woman’s freckled complexion blushed at the comment. “I would accompany you, if you wish it. Sir Hugh is about his duties now.”
“I cannot believe your boldness, Margaret. He is the enemy. And yet you…”
Margaret tucked her own needle into the tapestry and stepped to her side. Leaning down so that their comments were more
private, she whispered, “We each have our own path, milady. Please do not begrudge me some small measure of happiness.”
Lara felt small and mean-spirited at her irritation. Was it Margaret’s fault or due to some weakness in her character that she could adjust to this new way while her mistress could not? In truth, Margaret had been at her side every moment that she was needed. And, in spite of the occasional kiss stolen by the man in question, Margaret spent every night in a bed in the children’s chambers, Lara knew.
Leaning back and sighing, she looked at her brother, who stood tapping his foot and twisting his hands while waiting for her attention. Her throat had grown tight at Margaret’s plea.
The maid sat back down on her stool and smiled at her.
“Please come, Lara. You can sew anytime. Please come,” Malcolm repeated, ignoring the other topic being discussed in hushed tones.
“What is so important that I must come?” She slipped the needle into the corner of the tapestry so she would not lose it. “Another battle between you and Philippe? Another race on the shore?”
“’Tis a secret we have to show you.”
Stretching her arms over her head, Lara tried to loosen the tightness in her neck. Mayhap Margaret was correct? A walk, a brief walk, would help her to rid herself of it? “Fine. Where is Lord Sebastien waiting for us?”
“He said he would meet us at the new dock. In a quarter hour.” Malcolm’s obvious joy made it difficult to stay aloof.
She smiled. “I will be at the dock then to see the secret that you and Lord Sebastien keep.”
Malcolm jumped and yelled, startling the other women in the solar. “I must find Philippe!” he said as he ran out of the room and down the stairs.
She’d never liked surprises, so Lara walked to the window that overlooked the firth and glanced out to see if Sebastien waited there already. Although not at the dock, he was there. As she watched, he walked out of the water, where he’d been swimming. And with each step, his naked form was revealed to her. Lara could not turn away from the display of his manly figure. Strong arms and shoulders led down to a narrow waist and hips. And…
She swallowed and tried to look away before all of him appeared, but her traitorous eyes would not obey. Another step and his muscular thighs and legs were exposed. Her mouth went dry and she shivered as she remembered the strength in those muscles and the pleasure of being covered by that body now revealed in the light of day.
Lara did not think she’d made a noise, but he turned his head and met her gaze. He pushed the hair out of his eyes and stared back at her. ‘Twas then that she noticed the change. That part that he had filled her with, that had just now been at rest, grew hard and larger. Unable to look away, she nearly stopped breathing as he lifted one of his hands and touched…it, stroking it to an even greater size.
“Should I accompany you, then?” Margaret asked, but Lara was unable to respond. Heat pooled between her legs and her breasts tingled as she watched him smile knowingly at her. Then Malcolm’s boyish voice called to him from farther down the shore and, without hesitating, he turned back to the water and dived under it.
“My lady? You look peaked,” Margaret said, reaching her side—thankfully, after Sebastien had submerged. “It could be a fever. Let me feel your cheek.” Her maid reached out and touched the back of her hand to Lara’s indeed hot cheek.
“’Tis no fever, Margaret. Let me be.” It was a kind of fever, but not one she wished to discuss with her maid and the others present behind her. Especially after her comments about such attraction. She waved off the attention. “I just need some air.”
How could she ever face him now? She’d watched him and he knew it. But how could she not go as promised?
“Lara!” The shout came from outside. She dared not look.
Margaret glanced out and then waved. “My lady. ’Tis your brother and Lord Sebastien. They’re calling for you.”
Tucking her hair back inside the snood that covered it, Lara took a breath and walked to the door. She made her way down the stairs, through the hall and out through the yard. The guards nodded as she walked through the gate and across the drawbridge. Malcolm ran up to her and tugged on her hand, hurrying her along. In a few moments, they reached the new dock and Sebastien.
He wore trews now, but no tunic, and his hair hung down to his shoulders, still dripping water onto his chest and the ground around him. She knew her face was flame-red, but she answered his greeting in kind and looked everywhere except at his face.
“My lady! I am gladdened that you could join us.”
Hearing the smile in his voice, she was tempted to glance at him. She fought the urge, one more in a line of provocative urges brought on by the sight or sound or nearness of him.
“Malcolm tells me you have a secret to share with me,” she murmured.
Her brother was now back on the shore, calling out to Philippe to hurry. Lara watched his boyish glee and smiled.
“There are many secrets I could share with you, Lara,” Sebastien said, in a voice so deep and warm it transformed her insides to liquid. Just as she began to turn to him, Malcolm raced by her, out onto the dock and then into the water.
The water?
Sweet Jesus! Malcolm could not swim.
To her horror, his running start projected his small body far out over the surface of the firth before he went under. There was no sign of him for what felt like hours, and without waiting, she ran to the edge and threw herself in after him.
The cold water shocked her and she felt it claw at her gown and tunic. She turned around and around, looking for some sign of her brother. Stretching down, Lara searched the bottom beneath her feet.
She touched nothing. Then the weight of her saturated clothing began to drag her down. Gasping and flailing her arms, she screamed as she remembered that she could not swim, either. All she could think of as she sank into the murky waters was one name.
“Sebastien!” she cried out, and then there was nothing but black.
Watching in disbelief, Sebastien could only wonder how people living so close to the sea did not know how to swim in it. He’d spent days teaching Malcolm to float and hold his breath and then how to take strokes to move himself through the water. Lara could climb, she could ride, she could fish, so how was it that she could not swim?
Malcolm’s head came out of the water just as Lara sank into it, so Sebastien dived back into the firth to get to her. Luckily, ’twas in between the tides, so the water was calm. Deep but calm. Waving the boy off, Sebastien took a breath and aimed at the spot where Lara had sunk from view. He could only see a few feet in front of him, so he reached out, trying to grab her gown as it fluttered down to the bottom.
Pulling the heavy garment, he finally got hold of her and encircled her waist with his arm. With powerful kicks, he brought them both to the surface, then dragged her back to the shore. Margaret’s screaming brought soldiers running to his aid. In a very short time, with Malcolm at his side, he carried Lara from the water and laid her on the edge of the beach.
Silence held all in its grip as they waited for her to take a breath. And waited. Just when he reached out to shake her, she convulsed, taking in a huge amount of air and forcing out a similar amount of water. Sebastien rolled her to her side and watched as her coughing turned to sputtering, and then she breathed clearly. Before she became aware of those around her, he waved them off, even the maid, Margaret, who had to be dragged away by Hugh.
Sebastien knelt by her side and waited until she opened her eyes. “I suppose you will never appreciate secrets now,” he whispered to her.
“Malcolm,” she gasped, trying to right herself and find her brother.
“Shh,” Sebastien said, taking her in his arms and rocking her. “Malcolm is well, as you shall be shortly.”
The subject of her worry ran by, calling for Philippe to follow him. With a wave to her, Malcolm threw himself back into the water.
“Philippe! Have a care…” Sebastien
pointed in Malcolm’s direction and the squire nodded, acknowledging the order.
“He took to it as though born there,” he explained to her, all the while holding her close. “I did not know you could not swim or I would have warned you.”
“I thought he would die. I saw him go under and thought he…” Her words drifted off and she shook in his arms. He held her in silence, allowing her to cry out her fear. “I have only ever wanted to keep him safe. That is why I sent him from the castle the day of the battle. I thought you would kill him if you found him.”
Confused at first by this shift in her words, Sebastien realized that the shock of thinking Malcolm in danger had released much more, from deep within her.
“Everything we’d heard about the Bruce and what he would do to us…I tried to get him away…even though my father said to stay inside. I tried…I tried…”
“Lara, he is safe. Malcolm is safe,” Sebastien repeated, over and over until she quieted. “You are safe. Never fear, I will always protect you.”
She leaned back and looked at him, as though seeing him for the first time. “You are so very different than I expected an enemy to be.”
He laughed for a moment and then met her serious gaze. “As are you.” Her teeth chattered and he noticed her lips were blue. “Come, you must get out of these wet clothes.”
He stood up and helped her to her feet. After tripping over the sopping gown, he leaned down and lifted her into his arms. Instead of objecting or struggling as he thought she might, she collapsed against his chest. When they reached the drawbridge, he called out orders, and by the time he climbed the tower to their chambers, Hugh was on his way to retrieve the boys from the firth and Margaret stood ready with drying linens and hot water.
The Maid of Lorne Page 10
