‘It would be safer,’ he agreed. ‘But it’s early, yet. There is no reason why you cannot travel.’
Lianna tried to regain command of her feelings and asked, ‘What should I do, Warrick? He is angry with me for...things I said.’ She wished she could take back the words, but it was too late.
Warrick thought a moment and then stood. ‘If you want to be with Rhys, then you should follow him. Even if you do apologise, it may not make a difference. He was always too proud to yield.’ His expression dimmed, and he added, ‘But I will escort you. I have to travel south anyhow.’
She sent him a questioning look, wondering why he would leave after his own father had ordered him flogged.
‘I was invited to witness Rosamund’s wedding to Alan de Courcy. Our father sent the missive.’
A sense of indignant anger rose within her. ‘Why would he ever believe you would attend that wedding? After all you endured?’
‘He wants to gloat,’ Warrick admitted. He went to stand by the open window and was silent for a long moment. At last, he spoke again. ‘I need to see Rosamund one last time.’
Lianna softened and went to stand beside him. Below, she could see Rhys giving orders, packing supplies. He had given Warrick a place to stay, but it was not enough. She could see in the man’s eyes that he yearned for Rosamund, even now.
‘You want to save her, don’t you?’
He kept his gaze fixed upon the horizon. ‘She told me that she could not be with me any more. I thought she would fight for us. But in the end, she cowered to her father’s orders.’
‘And what if she had no choice? Will you try to stop the marriage?’
He shook his head. ‘Only she can do that. But I want her to know that I am there. And if she chooses to marry de Courcy, I will never speak her name again.’
Lianna reached out to touch his shoulder, and she swallowed hard. ‘Are you certain you want to go?’
He gave a hard nod. ‘I must.’
‘Then I will pray that she changes her mind.’ She felt a pang of sympathy for Warrick, wishing she could do something to help. But perhaps his presence would be enough to convince Rosamund.
‘Go and stop her from marrying de Courcy,’ she urged. ‘Tell her that you love her.’
Her heart warmed at the thought of Warrick returning to Rosamund. He would fight for her, and she felt certain he would win. There was no doubt in her mind that Rosamund loved him. Surely they would find a way to be together.
And then she understood that this was what she needed to do—fight for the man she wanted. For she had already given Rhys her heart, and a part of him grew within her womb. Despite all that had happened, she loved him. If that meant becoming the Norman lady he wanted, she would do it.
‘I will begin packing my belongings,’ she said. ‘You should do the same, and we will join Rhys.’
But he surprised her by shaking his head. ‘No. We should not travel with my brother.’
‘Why?’
‘Because he will find reasons for us to stay. He wants me to be the acting chief in your father’s stead.’ Warrick’s face grew solemn. ‘But this is not my home. I don’t belong here, Lianna.’
She knew it was true, though her kinsmen had come to accept him. ‘My father is well enough to govern Eiloch. But I still don’t understand why we cannot simply convince Rhys that we are going to Montbrooke, despite his wishes.’
‘Wait two days and let my brother have time to regret his words,’ Warrick advised. ‘Let him arrive at Montbrooke first, and when I escort you there two days later, it will be too late to send you back.’
She wasn’t so certain about his plan, especially after the way his own father had treated him. ‘What about you?’
‘I will continue on to Rosamund’s wedding once I have delivered you to my brother.’
His advice made sense, for he was right—after denying her permission to accompany him, Rhys would only send her home again. It was better to simply arrive when there was no choice but to let her stay.
She would pack her Norman gowns and jewels, transforming herself into the lady her husband wanted. If it meant speaking their language and obeying their customs, she would do everything in her power to change.
Her hands rested upon the soft swelling at her stomach. She had a strong reason to fight for her marriage...and she refused to let her husband turn away.
Montbrooke Castle, two weeks later
‘You should have left Warrick at Dolwyth,’ Edward de Laurent said. ‘After everything he’s done, you think to make him chief of Eiloch?’ He shook his head in disbelief.
‘And what did he do that was so wrong?’ Rhys countered. ‘He ran away with Rosamund de Beaufort and married her in secret.’
‘It was no marriage at all,’ his father countered. ‘Her father already had it annulled. But God’s bones, why would Warrick believe he could wed an heiress? He’s lucky I let him live.’
The hatred in his father’s voice spurred an even greater fury in his own mood. He had stood by for years while Edward had treated his youngest son like dirt. And though he had tried to stand up for Warrick, his father had never listened.
‘Analise was a liar. She killed her own child and blamed Warrick for it.’
‘You are wrong,’ Edward insisted. ‘I saw him holding my dead infant daughter with my own eyes. He did not deny it.’
‘Because Analise threatened him.’ He gritted his teeth. ‘All these years, you’ve believed her lies. But I swear, by God above, you never knew her. She used you, and after what she did to us...’ He stopped speaking, for what was the use?
‘She had nothing but praise for you,’ Edward said. And though he supposed his father thought it was a compliment, Rhys was glad Analise was dead. The secret touches, the sly flirtations—all of it had turned his stomach. And when he had refused to touch her, she had punished him with her own cruelty.
‘Her heart was rotten to the core, and I hated her.’ Even now, he could not remember the woman’s face without a shudder. ‘Be glad of the wife you have now. Rowena is worth far more than you know.’ He stood and excused himself from the meal, not wanting to spend another moment in his father’s presence.
He left the Great Hall, striding through the castle until he reached the outside. As he was descending the stairs, his sister Joan hurried towards him. She wore white, as she always did, and she had an anxious smile, as if she were eager to speak. He couldn’t think what it was she wanted, but greeted her, ‘Good morning, my sister.’
‘There is a visitor who has come to see you,’ she explained. ‘A lady.’
Rhys had no idea what Joan was talking about. There had been no sign of visitors, and none of the guards had alerted him to the presence of anyone. ‘Are they arriving now?’
She shook her head. ‘She arrived earlier this morning.’
There was no reason for a lady to visit him, save one. ‘Is it Rosamund de Beaufort?’ Perhaps the young woman had come to learn Warrick’s fate.
But Joan denied it. ‘She is not the visitor. It is someone else.’
‘I have no time for games, Joan.’ He had been away for so long, he wanted to learn more about the dissent between King Henry and King William of Scotland. He needed to fully understand the threat against both properties, and he wanted to speak to his father’s soldiers.
‘She awaits you in the solar,’ his sister continued.
‘As I said before, I have no time. She can speak with my father if she does not wish to wait.’
Joan stepped in front of him and pressed something into his hand. ‘She thought you might say that. And she bade me to give you this if you refused.’
Rhys opened his palm and saw the ruby necklace he had given to Lianna. ‘Where did you get this, Joan?’
She smiled and walked past him. Over her shoulder, she answered, ‘Perhaps you s
hould ask your wife.’
Rhys clenched the necklace and returned up the stairs towards the solar. Lianna was here? How had she managed to slip inside the gates without attracting notice? Had she dared to travel alone again? Worry clenched within his gut, and he hastened his pace.
He didn’t bother knocking on the door, but opened it. For a moment, he stared at the woman standing before him. Lianna was dressed in the manner of a Norman lady, with an emerald bliaud and her red hair bound up beneath a veil. The sight of her caught him off guard, and he stared at her without knowing what to say.
‘My lord husband,’ she murmured, curtsying before him.
Nothing could have surprised him more than to find her here. But it explained why the guards had willingly let her enter. ‘Why have you come?’ he demanded. ‘Is your father—?’
‘Alastair is well, and he is looking after Eiloch, just as he has always done.’ Her demeanour was serene, as if she had not just travelled hundreds of miles.
‘What about my brother?’
At that, she hesitated. His suspicions darkened, and he narrowed a stare at her. ‘Lianna...’
‘Warrick escorted me here. And now he has gone to Rosamund’s wedding.’
She spoke with calmness, as if nothing were out of the ordinary. But Rhys knew there had to be a strong reason for her to travel all this way. It was completely unlike Lianna, and he wanted to know why.
‘I told you not to come.’
A sudden flicker of emotion shadowed her face before she answered, ‘I ken that you did. But as I told you before, my place is here.’
‘I see no reason why you should think that. The MacKinnons need you more.’ He didn’t truly trust Eachann, and without Lianna or Warrick there, he could not say what would happen.
‘My father is more than capable of governing the clan. It is his right.’
But it was Lianna who had truly ruled over the people. Her father had been the chief in name, but it was his daughter who deserved that title.
Rhys studied her and noted the shadows beneath her eyes. She must have followed him closely, for he had arrived at Montbrooke only two days ago. ‘If you stay, then I would caution you to keep to yourself. I have my own duties to attend.’ He hesitated a moment, waiting to see if she would take a step towards him. But she didn’t move from her place.
Go to her, his heart urged. Embrace her.
But his mind hardened, for Lianna was here only out of duty. Perhaps her father had shamed her into accompanying him.
He clenched the ruby necklace a moment before holding it out to her. ‘This belongs to you.’
She reached for the necklace, her fingers brushing against his as she accepted it. When she hung it around her throat, the jewel nestled between her breasts.
A surge of interest flared within him, and he longed to tear down the walls between them, holding her skin to skin. But then, she had disobeyed his orders, travelling all this way. There was no reason for her to stay at Montbrooke, and it would be better if she returned home.
She reached for his hand and squeezed it. ‘I’ve missed you, Rhys.’
Her unexpected words startled him, and he didn’t quite know what to say. Then she stood on tiptoe and touched the outline of his jaw, sliding her fingers over his cheek. He went rigid at her touch, and she tried to pull his head lower. He felt the warmth of her breath against his mouth, and she kissed him lightly. The gesture was unexpected, but he didn’t kiss her back. Right now, his suspicions were heightened, and he needed answers.
She stepped back and said, ‘I ken you must return to your own duties now. But I only wanted to see you first.’
He knew he ought to kiss her hard, to hold her and let her know that he had missed her, too. But something about this visit felt unusual to him. She was hiding something, as if she had done something wrong and was trying to atone for it.
She was holding back secrets, he was certain. And he needed to know what they were.
Chapter Eleven
Lianna muttered a curse after he left. Stubborn Norman. Didn’t he realise just how far she had travelled to be with him? She had tried to follow his stepmother’s advice, tempting him with a kiss—but he hadn’t even kissed her back.
She left the solar and found her way to his chamber. It was neat and tidy, with his trunk pushed to the far wall, almost as if she had prepared the chamber herself. The tidiness irritated her, for she had come with the hopes of straightening their shared chamber. And she could not even do that.
A wave of dizziness washed over her, and she forced herself to sit down on the trunk. She had learned that the best means of controlling the morning sickness was to eat frequently. Bread and cheese made it easier to forget the nausea, but many times she found it difficult to remain standing for long periods of time.
Lianna leaned back against the wall, wondering what to do now. She needed time with her husband, time enough to seduce him and show him that she did care. Not once had she ever been forced to share his bed, and she wanted him to understand that her idle words had been false.
But Rhys was being stubborn and proud, and if she sent for him, he would only leave again.
No, she had to be patient and continue to be the sort of lady he wanted, making herself useful at Montbrooke. Joan might show her what she needed to know, or perhaps his stepmother, Rowena.
And in time, she could tell him about the baby.
The familiar fear gripped her, though she told herself that women gave birth safely all the time. It was easier to block out the worries, for there was nothing she could do until the child was born.
She left his chamber and saw his sister Joan in the hallway. The young woman offered a tentative smile, and Lianna shrugged. ‘Thank you for bringing Rhys to me. He is still angry, and I don’t ken how I can change that.’
‘Rhys wants to be in command,’ Joan admitted. ‘He doesn’t want to be told what to do.’
She was well aware of that. But she intended to do everything in her power to win back his favour. She confessed her plan to Joan, who considered it.
‘I will do what I can,’ his sister offered. ‘But my brother can be stubborn.’
Lianna understood that, but if it involved seduction, she thought it might be possible to convince him to relent. Especially if she pleased him. She was determined to be the sort of wife he wanted, to prove that she had not meant those words. If he saw her as a proper Norman woman, it might end his bitterness. She simply could not imagine living like this for the rest of their days.
When she turned back to Joan, she said, ‘I ken that I was...not kind to you the first time I stayed at Montbrooke. It was hard for me to be away from my home.’
‘You did not want to marry my brother, I know,’ Joan answered. ‘But Rhys is a good man. Even if he can be pig-headed at times.’ Her face warmed with a gentle smile.
‘I will do everything I can to be the wife he wants,’ Lianna said. ‘If you will teach me your ways.’
The young woman’s expression grew thoughtful. ‘I can show you our customs if you like, but you should be yourself, Lianna. Don’t worry about trying to be someone you are not.’
Though she understood Joan’s assurance, Lianna saw no other choice. She had grown accustomed to Rhys, and she did not want to live without him. She needed him, especially now. And if that meant wearing different clothes or behaving like a Norman lady to please him, she would do it. When they were at Eiloch, he had worn the clothing of her kinsmen and had tried to fit in among them. Could she not do the same while she was here?
‘I want to try,’ she insisted. ‘But I will need your help.’
Joan gave a nod. ‘If you wish it.’ She led her down the spiral stairs. ‘Truly, to behave like a Norman lady means to listen more than anything else.’
Lianna nodded. ‘So be it. But in the meantime, will you show me Montbrook
e? I fear that I paid it little heed when I was here last.’ This time, she intended to see what the needs of the estate were, and she could share them with Rhys.
‘Certainly. And later, you may join us for the noontide meal. My father will want to speak with you.’
The thought had little appeal, but it was part of claiming her place here, Lianna supposed. She walked down the stairs, mimicking Joan’s behaviour as she took slow, graceful steps. Near the bottom of the stairs, she saw a servant lift up a small door in the floor that led to another set of stairs belowground.
‘Is that for storage?’ she asked Joan.
The woman nodded. ‘It is mostly for wine, but sometimes it’s used for hiding weapons or food supplies in the case of a siege.’
The servant returned with a small barrel, closing the door behind him. Then Joan took her outside, showing her each of the outbuildings. Lianna saw that the kitchens were well stocked, and she was pleased by the food preparations. As they passed the guard tower, she held up her hand. ‘Grant me a moment, Joan.’ She approached some of the soldiers who had accompanied her on the first journey. Their faces brightened at the sight of her.
‘Lady Lianna,’ the commander greeted her. ‘We are pleased at your return.’
She smiled at him and asked, ‘Do your men have all that they need? Is there anything I can do for you?’
The commander seemed pleased by her question. ‘Thank you for asking, my lady. But no, we have everything we need, though the men always enjoy a good meal, my lady.’ He smiled warmly, and Lianna promised to send them honeyed cakes and sugared almonds.
Before she departed, she asked him, ‘How is Rhys?’
The soldier’s face turned grim. ‘Although he has only been here for two days, he behaves as if he is preparing for war. But he will not tell us of the threat. He trains the men for hours, and we respect him, for he is the best fighter among us.’
She wondered if it was in preparation for war between Scotland and England but could not be certain. ‘Has he...said anything about Eiloch?’
Forbidden Night with the Highlander Page 18
