The Highlander's War Prize (The Highland Warlord Series Book 2)
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‘I have suffered losing you, Giselle. It was like a thousand punches landing on me all at once. Now I have won you back, can you blame me for wanting you, for wanting some reward for everything I have endured?’
‘For what you have endured?’
‘I know you have suffered too. I know you may be fearful of lying with me, but you can trust me to be gentle.’
‘It is not a case of being gentle, Lyall for I know you are a kind man, you have always been so.’
‘Then, what is it?’
‘I cannot lie with you, or with any man. I cannot bear it. I can speak of it no more.’
‘I’m not him. I am not a monster like him. Do you think me so for wanting to lie with you? When a man comes close to death, he wants to celebrate life by being with the woman he loves. Am I wrong to ask that of you?’
‘No, it is natural and just, but I cannot give you what you ask. I am sorry.’
‘Then, I will be patient. I can wait until you are ready, Giselle.’
‘What if I am never ready?’
‘Then I will be waiting for you until I die because there is no one else I want.’ He pulled her back to him. ‘I can wait until you trust me again.’
‘Lyall, forgive me. I cannot be your wife in name only, it is not fair.’
‘I am not giving you a choice. I lost you once, and I’ll not lose you again. We will wed, as soon as may be, and we will be happy again, I swear.’
***
As dusk fell, turning the snow on the fringing mountains to pink, Lyall sought Cormac on the battlements. The wind cut through him, in fact, it seemed to have settled on his heart.
‘We leave at first light, Giselle and I.’
‘So soon?’
‘Aye, we must leave this cursed place and all its dreadful memories behind us, as soon as can be.’
‘And Giselle, how does she fare?’
‘When she is around me now, she is, for the most part, silent. The light has gone from her eyes as if someone has snuffed out a candle inside of her.’
‘Her ordeal was terrible, her mind and body must heal from it. You know what Banan was.’
‘I told her we were to be wed, and she seemed almost indifferent. When I took her in my arms, she recoiled from me, Cormac.’ He could hardly bear to say the words aloud, such was the shame still burning in his breast.
‘Did you did not stop to think that she might be frightened of the act.’
No, of course, I did not, because I am the world’s worst fool.’
‘No dispute there.’
‘Don’t mock Cormac, I am in torment. I thought if I killed Banan all would be well. But it is not so simple as that. The man is dead, but lives on in her mind, in her heart. I cannot drive him out.’
‘Nothing in this life is ever simple. Nothing worth having ever comes easily.’
‘What if Giselle no longer wants me?’
‘She will, one day.’
‘Easy for you to say, but what if that day never comes?’
‘Be kind, patient, Lyall. Let her come to you. You must give her time to trust in you.’
‘But she can trust me Cormac, I’ve told her that over and over.’
‘You can’t just bark it at her. You must show her with your actions, brother.’
‘We should not return to Beharra,’ said Lyall. ‘Banan took her from there, so the memories of that day will hurt her if we go back.’
Cormac turned, with dismay all over his face. ‘I thought you would bide a while, with Ravenna’s bairn coming and all. Surely there is no haste in going to Corryvreckan. I thought Owen was to go on ahead with some men and prepare the castle for your arrival?’
‘Aye, he is, so maybe we can stay at Beharra a little while at least. But, for now, I must get her out of Stirling. I will stop at Farne Abbey and see the Abbot. I would like him to marry us. I’ll have no delay. Are you coming along with us?’
‘No, I must stay awhile. King Robert has schemes he wishes to share, as always.’ Cormac turned and drew him into a bear hug. ‘I will not be far behind you, brother. I will be at your back, as always, and I know you will conquer this as I’ve yet to see you fail.’
Chapter Thirty-Three
A tepid sun lit the windows with a soft glow. An autumn storm was blowing in over the ocean, buffeting the abbey in loud gusts, and rattling the doors on their hinges.
Lyall glanced down at her and smiled. Giselle could feel the tension running through him as the Abbot bid them join hands. His shook a little, though he tried to hide it by clutching her fingers tightly.
This was wrong.
Why did he have to be such a good man? Why did he have to have such a stout, brave heart? In the weeks since their heart-wrenching goodbye, as he went off to war, Giselle had thought she would break in two with the pain of it. Down in those awful cellars at Stirling, she had seared his face into her mind so that she would never forget it. Now that he had survived, and returned to her, looking into his face was like looking into the sun. She could scarce believe he could still want her. That look in his green eyes, so warm, so hopeful. Was it out of love for her, or was she flattering herself? It was more likely he felt a duty to her, for how could anyone want her now, pathetic, broken thing that she had become?
Lyall’s cuts and bruises had scarcely had time to heal since Berwick. There was a wicked slash across his cheek, not deep, it would leave only a faint scar. His eye was still puffy and bruised, and he had a cut on his upper lip, yet still, he was handsome. Everything about him spoke of violence, but this beaten and bloodied man could be her salvation if only she would let him.
Today was supposed to be the first step in making him happy, as his wife, where she was beyond the reach of any other man, he’d said. It could have been perfect, but for the unease stirring in her belly.
When the Abbot declared them man and wife, Giselle almost winced. Lyall thought that the only obstacle to them being together was her fear of a man’s touch. In time, he believed that could be put right. But Lyall did not know that standing at an altar brought back terrible memories of her wedding to Banan, a day filled with terror, hate and hopelessness. Giselle was, by no means, free from her tormentor. Banan was part of her now, as were the memories of him. She had tried so hard to tear them out of her head, but there was no way to do that. The fight was over. She couldn’t lie to herself any more.
Tonight, when the sun set, it was their wedding night, and yet she hesitated to even let her husband touch her, or lean in for a kiss to seal their union. She wanted to turn to him and explain, tell him everything, but it was futile. He could not cut down memories, he could not slay demons. The damage was done, and between them lay an open wound that would not heal, not through kindness, nor anger, nor patience.
This was wrong.
‘You have my heartfelt good wishes, Lyall, a most worthy bride indeed,’ beamed Abbot Aifric, smiling benignly at Giselle, and clapping a hand on Lyall’s shoulder. ‘Now, I am sure you two wish to be alone, so I will take myself off to the kitchen to ensure Brother Tamhas has not been slurping down two mouthfuls of broth for every one he serves his brothers.’
As the Abbot’s footsteps faded away, Lyall smiled down at her.
‘Are you happy, wife? Only death can part us now.’ His words were a blade, sliding, cold and sure, into her heart.
This was wrong.
‘Yes, I am. But I am tired from our journey, and I think I will find my bed and lie down in it for a while.’ Giselle gave him a wan smile.
‘Shall I join you?’ he said.
‘I am tired, it is best I rest alone awhile if that is alright.’
‘Aye, of course, it is. I will go and find the Abbot, and see if he needs any help.’ His words were full of forced cheerfulness.
Giselle felt sick that she had rejected him. It was not her intention to wound him, but that did not change the fact that she had. She could feel Lyall watching her as she rushed away
It was easy to slip out of the
abbey and take the cliff path, which wound downwards, along a thin strip of land, like an arm reaching out to the sea. The crash of waves below competed with the trickle of a waterfall, which poured over the side of the cliff to join the sea.
The wind had picked up, and it blew the falling water sideways and upwards, sending a cold mist into the air, chilling her to the bones. Giselle peered over at the drop below. Nausea and hopelessness overwhelmed her, and she started to cry.
‘What are you doing?’
Giselle took a step backwards and staggered a little.
‘Careful, you are close to the edge. Come here.’ Lyall held out his hand, and it hit her again. This was wrong.
‘Lyall,’ her voice was a sob, she could not help it. ‘I should not have wed you, it is not right, after what happened.’
‘We are wed, and it is right. Come away from the edge Giselle, it is growing cold, and we must get you inside. You have nothing to fear from me, now or ever, you must know that. I would not press you to lie with me, I would never do that.’
‘It is not that Lyall. Banan…he…’
‘Speak no more of him, please. I cannot bear the thought of it. We must forget him, put him behind us.’
‘I cannot, for he lives in me still.’
‘In time, those memories will fade.’
‘No, Lyall, you don’t understand.’
She took a deep breath and put her hand to her belly.
‘Banan is inside me, burrowing into my belly like a worm.’
‘Giselle?’
‘I hoped I might lose it, that it would just slide out of me, so unwanted that my body might reject it. But it thrives.’
Lyall shook his head. God could not be this cruel. Hadn’t they both suffered enough?
‘I am with child, his child.’
‘No, that cannot be.’
‘Forgive me, Lyall.’
‘But we were together, it could be mine,’ he said in desperation.
‘There is no doubt that it is his. You must know this.’
‘Can you not lie to me, Giselle? Can you not pretend it is mine?’
‘I dearly wish it was yours, but I cannot make it your child just because I want it to be so, no more than Rhoslyn could.’
‘Do not throw my words back in my face.’
‘Lyall, I even thought of pretending it was yours. But I could not deceive you like that, and besides, I could not be close to you in that way. See, I cannot even share my husband’s bed. Now I am with child, his child, I am finished.
‘We can claim it as ours, Giselle.’
‘What if it is a son? What if it looks like him, smells like him, is hateful like him.’
‘It is part of Banan, yes, but it is also part of you, gentle, kind, good. We can leave Beharra, go to Corryvreckan. No one there will know it is not mine.’
‘You want to hide us away because we shame you.’
Lyall’s mind was reeling. Already Giselle was saying ‘us’. Did she want this child? His mind could not comprehend this fresh horror. All he knew was that he could not lose her. He would say anything, do anything, so long as she stayed with him.
‘Giselle, I am not ashamed, but it will be simpler away from here, from Cormac and Ravenna and everyone. We can have a fresh start, in our own lands, far from the memories of Banan and what he did.’
‘I cannot ask you to do that.’
‘It is not your choice, it is mine, and I choose to raise this bairn as my own.
‘Banan did things to me, shameful things, Lyall.’
'I know, I know, but it is over now.’
‘It will never be over. It will never leave me. Banan took what we have for each other and made it ugly, dirty. I feel such shame.’
‘It is not your shame, it is his, mine too for not protecting you. Forgive me.’
‘Nothing to forgive, Lyall. You have only ever tried to do right by me, and I love you for it, so much.’ Giselle staggered in her grief, moving closer to the cliff edge.
‘What are you doing?’ his voice was a strangled whisper.
‘I do not deserve you, Lyall.’
The drop would split her head open, it would smash her bones like dry twigs. Fear gripped him, dread, indecision. He must act, but how? If he grabbed for her she might jump or slip over.
The waterfall going over the edge, to the pebbled beach below, sounded deafening, as he tried to reason with her.
‘Giselle, please don’t.’
‘This child in my belly stands between us, and it always will. You will have to look at it every day. It could be son. What then?’
‘Boy or girl, it will be our child, not his. Children come out of love, not violence.’
‘You must forget me, find another. I am finished.’
No, you can’t do this. If you do, it will be the end of me.’
He came alongside her and held out his hand. ‘Take it. If you decide to jump, you take me with you.’
‘No.’
‘You may as well, for with you gone, I do not wish to keep living. If you fall, I will follow you. I swore we would never be parted, and we won’t be.’ He took a step closer to the edge and held out his hand. ‘You have a wound Giselle, and in time, it will heal. Stay with me, please, let us face this together.’
Lyall’s mind was screaming, ‘grab her,’ but it had to be her choice to live.
‘Take my hand,’ he said quietly, ‘for the love I bear you, take my hand.’
She stared up at him, her eyes awash with tears.
‘Giselle, my love for you is true and it is steadfast. I will be by your side, always, in life, and in death, if needs be. So, which is it to be? My fate is in your hands.’
Chapter Thirty-Four
It had been three weeks since they had returned to Beharra. Lyall watched her everywhere she went, like a hawk. He was always with her, as if she could not be trusted, alone with her thoughts, even for a moment. How sad and edgy he was, his constant vigilance was taking its toll on him.
She had chosen life, but Lyall did not quite believe it.
‘Lyall is a good man.’ Ravenna’s soft words brought Giselle out of her worries, as they walked along the river. The grass was stiff with frost, enduring the autumn chill and waiting for spring to come.
‘You think I don’t know what kind of man he is, Ravenna? He has been so kind, so very patient with me. He asks for nothing, he expects nothing, and that is what he gets. In return for all he has done for me, I cannot even give him the rights of a husband.
‘Don’t speak so bitter, Giselle. Can you not be with him at all?’
‘It is painful to speak of this.’
‘Perhaps it is better that you do speak of it, and not have your pain festering inside of you. It will only get worse, and you and Lyall will grow further apart.’ Ravenna took hold of her hand in a hard grip. ‘Giselle, you have my admiration. I once thought you a weak chit of a girl, soft and cossetted. But now, I think you are one of the strongest women I know and the bravest.’
‘And yet I wound my husband every day when I reject him. What am I to do, Ravenna?’
‘Lie with Lyall, no matter how difficult it is, even if you have to force yourself. Do it, until you think of Banan no more. He is ashes, but you are living and beautiful, with a good man by your side. If you do not banish his ghost, it will haunt you forever. You must go on, until the load of your memories starts to lighten, and happiness trickles back into your life.’
‘Lyall so deserves to be happy, yet I fear I cannot make him so.’
They were silent for a while before Ravenna spoke again.
‘The past once stopped me from loving Cormac,’ she said.
‘How?’
‘There was a man before him. Brandan. How strange it is to say his name, for I haven’t spoken it aloud for years. And you must never speak of this to Cormac. Never.’
‘I swear I will not,’ said Giselle.
‘I am telling you this because I think we understand each other and
we both know what suffering is, in a way many people do not.’
‘What happened Ravenna?
‘It is a sad and sorry tale, and, one day, I will tell you all of it. Suffice to say, I loved Brandan with all my heart, or I thought I did. He became lost to me, and I thought I would die from the pain of it. I was sure that I could never love another, and certainly not the big, wild man from an enemy clan I was forced to marry.’
‘But now, you love Cormac, and you have tamed him,’ said Giselle.
‘Aye, in part, but he is still wild, where it matters, that is.’ She grinned.
Giselle felt a shiver of fear, as she often did, at the thought of men’s wildness.
Ravenna frowned. ‘Perhaps wild does not suit you, Giselle. Forgive me.’
‘I would prefer kindness.’
Ravenna took Giselle’s hands in her own. They were chill. ‘Know this as a certainty. It will get better for you. I was once determined to hate Cormac forever. But that first love, which tore my heart in two, well, I can barely picture Brandan’s face now. What I mean to say is, he’s a ghost too, and every day I put him further and further behind me. I look to the future, and the love I have in my heart now. That is all that matters on this earth, Giselle, where we are now, not past wrongs or past loves.’
The rest of the path back to Beharra was taken in silence. Giselle’s mind was a whirl of fear, but slowly she was reaching a certainty. Feelings that she could scarce acknowledge had been getting a grip on her these last weeks. A soft feeling in her stomach made her stop dead. Ravenna moved on in front of her and did not notice.
There it was again, gentle, strange and wondrous. In her mind’s eye she saw a tiny hand reaching out in a fragile grasp at life. Giselle felt love flood her heart for the tiny person inside her belly. She did not hate it. She did not resent it any more, quite the opposite - she wanted this child.
Giselle hurried to catch up with Ravenna. When they got to Beharra, Lyall was standing at the gates with his usual worried look on his face. Before he had a chance to say anything, Giselle rushed to him and flung her arms around him. She didn’t care that Ravenna was looking on, for she could not contain her love for him. At first, Lyall did not respond, but then he wrapped his strong arms around her and held on tight.