by Amy Harmon
“It will go to help our people. I also want to improve our position here on the border. The more men we have, the better trained and outfitted they are, the better our situation and strength.”
“Oh.”
“Do not worry on that. I will always keep you safe.” Kellen considered what more he might do to further his suit and remembered her curiosity about his marriage proposal. She had wondered at the romance of it.
For her, he could be romantic. He could propose and it would be everything she might wish for. He would capture her heart as she had his. She could depend upon it.
* * *
Hours later, Gillian lay in bed, wondering once more what she was going to do. The Corbett’s impending arrival and the imminent threat of exposure had left her exhausted, feeling like a sword was hanging over her head. Maybe she deserved it for blatantly stealing Kellen’s affections from Edith, but she couldn’t dredge up even a smidgen of regret. Kellen was hers now and Edith could get lost.
Gillian turned over, unable to get comfortable. She was going to have to tell Kellen everything before the Corbett family arrived. Either that or run away.
She snorted. She could leave a note, don’t look for me, it might be plague; because, yeah, for sure she’d be able to survive in medieval England on her own.
Anyway, even if it were an option, she wasn’t sure she could get herself to leave Kellen at this point. She loved him. Really, really loved him. And she was starting to suspect that he just might love her back.
Earlier, she’d practically melted into a puddle at his feet when he’d asked if she could be happy with him. If she just told him everything, threw herself on his mercy, surely he’d choose her and forget about the fortune Edith brought?
Gillian turned over again. “Marissa, are you awake?”
Marissa sighed. “Must you move about? Are you not tired?”
“When you got married, did you bring a big dowry to your husband?”
“Of course.”
Gillian hesitated. “Kellen wrote me a poem today. It was so incredibly sweet. He was so sweet. Do you think he’d take me without a dowry?”
Marissa jerked the covers up. “The land and money are for the good of his people. Your people now. Never underestimate what you bring to this marriage. Lord Marshall has many to care for.”
“But my sister already brought him a dowry. Why does he need another one?”
“It will make his position even stronger. It will help more of his knights secure a place. It means more property and crops to feed his people. It will earn gratitude and respect for you, as well. You must cease trying to turn everything into a romantic gesture.”
“Right. Of course you’re right.” Gillian sighed. “But you should have seen his face today when he read me that poem. He was so earnest and wonderful and… and… just so cute.” She knew she was gushing but couldn’t seem to help herself. “Is your husband romantic?”
Marissa turned onto her side, her back to Gillian. “He has no flowery words but is dependable and offers loyalty and protection.”
“Oh. Right.”
“Go to sleep, Gillian,” Marissa said wearily.
Gillian turned over. She wished she could sleep and forget about her troubles, if only for a little while. She knew she’d soon have to tell Kellen everything and throw herself on his mercy. She probably ought to do it tomorrow.
She remembered the way he’d looked at her earlier, his expression tender and possessive. Would that change? She had to admit, despite the poem and the way he’d held her so close, she was concerned. Her ex-fiancé had been romantic, too, but in the end he’d only wanted her for what she could give him. Would Kellen be any different?
As worried as she was about being put in the dungeon or hanged, she was actually more troubled about her heart. When her fiancé had revealed his true colors, it had definitely hurt, but she’d gotten over it. If it turned out Kellen only wanted her for the money she was supposedly bringing, if his expression changed from tender to contemptuous, she just wasn’t sure she’d recover from the pain.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Marissa would not lose her temper. She would not allow Gillian to affect her mood. Lord Corbett was expected soon and perhaps his family as well, so they needed to finish the final touches for the wedding. But it was not easy to concentrate with Gillian pacing about the solar.
“Gillian,” Marissa forced a genial tone. “Will you please settle? We need to finish stitching these gifts for your mother and sisters.”
Gillian walked to the window, yet again, and looked out. “I can’t. I need to talk to Kellen.”
Marissa forced her jaw to relax. She would be patient. She would not let Gillian drive her to madness. “Later. At the moment, you need to work. Perhaps you can help Beatrice sort her… feathers.” Marissa stopped herself from rolling her eyes. Was no real work to be done this day?
“No, now. I sent the boys to go and find him.”
Marissa’s mouth opened and shut as she tried to decide how to chide Gillian without losing her temper. Finally she gave up. “Honestly, Gillian, you will cease moping and pacing about. ’Tis affecting us all and getting on my nerves.”
She set her stitching aside. “Kellen is mooning about and trying to find ways to please you and must I remind you, yet again, that as lady of the castle, ’tis your responsibility to set the tone for your home. If you have your husband running about after you, trying to win your smiles, then he has no time for his duties. You must needs—”
“Lady Hardbrook! Lady Hardbrook!”
The three boys, Peter, Ulrick, and Francis came running into the solar.
“Gentlemen.” Marissa shot them a stern look as they slid to a halt. “You forget your manners.”
Ulrick bowed quickly and the other two boys copied him. “Apologies, my lady, but Lord Hardbrook is at the gates!”
“He is riding a huge stallion!” said Peter. “Come on!”
As the boys ran out Gillian stopped, turned to look at her, and Marissa found she was struck dumb.
Gillian’s head tilted to the side and she looked concerned.
“Are you okay? What’s the matter?”
Marissa’s fingers started to shake and in that moment she hated Gillian more than she’d ever hated anyone in her entire life.
If Gillian’s husband were to turn up unexpectedly, she would toss her dignity to the wind, run down the stairs, and throw herself at him; regardless of the fact that she’d only embarrass them both.
Of course, Kellen never seemed embarrassed. He seemed to admire Gillian more than any husband Marissa knew of.
Marissa was suddenly at a loss about what to do. She was fearful to meet her own husband or at least fearful to meet him in the manner she’d been intending.
Gillian’s brows furrowed. “Marissa, are you all right?”
The longer Marissa stared at Gillian the more she thought about her decision to follow Gillian’s silly and immature lead in this. What if she were to act like Gillian? What if she were to go downstairs, right this moment, and throw herself at her husband? What if she were to flirt with him? Kiss him?
Her stomach tightened so much it ached and, when dizziness assailed her, she remembered to breathe. Would he set her aside in disgust? Would he shove her away in embarrassment for them both? He might. But what if he hugged her back? What if he greeted her in kind?
Before she could turn coward, she stood. “Come with me, ladies. I need your assistance.”
Vera and Yvonne jumped up at the urgency in Marissa’s voice; and they followed, as did Gillian.
“Not you, Gillian. You, you just… ” She waved her hand. “Just… do something.”
Her ladies hurried with her to her bedchamber. She needed to change into her most beautiful gown, uncover and brush out her hair, one of her best features, pinch her cheeks and bite color into her lips.
“Wait!” called Gillian from behind them. “What’s happening? Where are you going?”
* * *
Determined to talk to Kellen and tell him everything, Gillian waited until Marissa was out of sight before leaving the solar. She’d explain who she was, or rather, wasn’t. She’d tell him where she was from, how she felt about him, and her hopes for their future together. Everything.
At the thought, her heart rate increased and her hands felt cold and clammy; but she really couldn’t stand the suspense a moment longer. With shaking fingers, she slipped on her pink pack for the proof it contained to back her claims, smoothed her yellow dress, and headed out to find Kellen.
When she reached the top of the stairs, she immediately saw Kellen talking with a well-dressed older gentleman below who, from the looks of him, could be none other than Kellen’s father.
Kellen looked up, smiled, and beckoned to her. “Gillian,” he circled his hand a few more times. “Come and meet my father.”
Taking a shaky breath and feeling a bit deflated by the fact that she’d have to put off her talk, she went downstairs and joined them, slipping her hand around Kellen’s arm, linking them.
He patted her hand possessively then held his own over it. “Gillian, this is my father, Lord Edward Hardbrook. Father, this is Lady Edith Corbett, my betrothed. I call her Gillian.”
Gillian smiled at the pride in Kellen’s voice and held out a hand, which Lord Hardbrook took in one of his, and bowed over in a graceful gesture before kissing the back. “I am very pleased to meet you, my dear.”
Gillian arched a brow at the smooth move. “Thank you. It’s nice to meet you, too. I can certainly see where Kellen gets his good looks and charm from.”
Kellen grinned and Lord Hardbrook laughed in surprise. “Thank you, my dear.” She could see he was flattered, but she’d meant it. His father was just an older version of Kellen, and it was nice to know Kellen would still be yummy to look at in a quarter-century. The thought made Gillian’s hand clench on his arm. Would it be her at Kellen’s side or some other wife?
“My son seems well pleased with his choice of bride, as am I,” said Lord Hardbrook. “I welcome you to our family.”
“Thank you.”
Lord Hardbrook’s eyes widened as he looked beyond Gillian and up the stairs. Gillian turned to see Marissa descending, dark hair floating about her shoulders, looking pale but beautiful in a royal blue gown, her fine features slightly strained.
When she reached the bottom, she took a deep breath then ran at her husband, throwing herself at him, her arms wrapping around his neck. Lord Hardbrook’s mouth dropped and he gaped for a moment but quickly encircled his wife and chuckled as she clung to him. “Hello, wife, I have—”
Before he could say more, Marissa grasped his head, pulled him toward her, and kissed him thoroughly. The man seemed frozen in place for a moment, but quickly relaxed and got into the spirit of the kiss, his arms tightening about his wife.
Gillian wiggled her brows at Kellen who brought a fist to his mouth to clear his throat and hide a smile. As the kiss continued, they both looked everywhere but at the couple in front of them.
Finally Kellen took a step back, pulling Gillian along with him. “Well, yes, then. We will see you at supper,” he said, as he turned around, caught Gillian’s hand, and pulled her away.
They both walked fast until finally they were almost running out the front doors. They barely made it outside before they burst out laughing.
* * *
When her husband finally broke off the kiss to gaze down at her, surprise, pleasure, and interest in his expression, Marissa was pleased to see his breathing was as unsteady as her own. His gaze fell to her lips, his color heightened, and he clasped her in his arms as tightly as she could have ever wished for.
Her hands lowered to his chest and she could not help but smile up at him as she gasped for breath. “I have missed you, husband.”
A smile curved his lips as he gazed down at her. “I can see you have. I have missed my own sweet wife, as well.”
At his words, tears filled her eyes and the last of her misgivings melted away. She leaned up on her toes to whisper, “My ladies have moved Gillian’s things to their chambers. I thought perhaps you would wish me to show you our bedchamber and help you get settled?”
Edward glanced about quicky, nodded, released her, and practically shoved her toward the stairs, his hands firm on her waist. “I would like nothing better.”
Disbelief, relief, and happiness bloomed inside Marissa as she hurried up the staircase with her husband directly behind her, urging her onward.
She conceded that she had definitely been too harsh with Gillian. It turned out the girl knew a thing or two about managing a household, after all.
* * *
Kellen headed with Gillian across the bailey, toward the training field, and smiled when she giggled. “You are amused?”
“I couldn’t believe that was Marissa. I never would have guessed she had such a passionate marriage. Never.”
Kellen laughed. “Nor I. I have not seen the two of them act in such a way as that before, but I am happy for my father.” Marissa had seemed cold in the past, and he knew what it was to be married to a passionless wife.
Looking down at Gillian, he let go of her hand and put his arm about her shoulders, pulling her close, enjoying the sunshine, the walk with his lady, the way she so easily slid her arm into place about his waist, and the way his heartbeat sped at her touch. “My father is here, and soon yours will be, also. I cannot wait for you to be mine.”
He could not help but notice the way Gillian tensed at his words, her expression bordering on fear.
“You need not distress yourself. I will be gentle with you; I swear it.”
Gillian nodded and squeezed his waist. “I know you will.”
“Are you worried over the wedding?”
She shrugged but remained silent.
“I cannot wait until is it over, as well. Life will be more peaceful afterward. I swear I will do all in my power to help you settle into your new role. I want you to be happy, Gillian.”
Gillian pulled him to a stop and looked up at him. She opened her mouth to speak, closed it, and then sighed.
“What is it?”
She took his hand. “I have something I need to tell you. It’s important.”
Gillian looked about as if searching for privacy, and Kellen realized this could be the perfect opportunity to carry out his plan. “And I have something to say to you, as well. Come.”
Grabbing her hand, he pulled her toward the training fields, past his men and the orchard, and to the private garden beyond. He was relieved to see it was unoccupied as he dragged her toward a pretty little bench and settled her upon it.
She slipped off her backpack. “Kellen?”
“Aye. Give me a moment.” He could feel the pulse beat in his own throat, and could feel himself start to sweat as he paced back and forth. Finally he stopped, took a breath, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Gillian, you are… ”
He studied her beautiful face, the soft blue eyes, thickly lashed, the full and inviting lips, the high cheekbones framed by her disheveled blonde hair, and tried to remember the words so painstakingly memorized. Finding the distance between them intolerable, he knelt on one knee, his face almost even with her own, and grasped her hands in his.
His mind blanked, all the memorized words going straight out of his head. He swallowed and looked into her eyes. “Gillian, I have not the pretty words that some men do, but I… I have loved you from almost the moment we met.”
Tears filled her pretty eyes and, when she tried to speak, he put a finger to her soft lips, silencing her. He had to finish this or he’d kiss her and be done with it.
“The first day I met you, when I took you from Royce, I knew you were mine. But do you remember at the rocks? When you took my hand as we walked back to the keep?”
She nodded.
“When you took my hand, I was cert
ain I was yours.”
He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the back, turned it over and kissed her palm, and then holding her trembling hand to his cheek, gazed into her tear-filled eyes. “You are everything. My life, my love, my all. Will you marry me, Gillian?”
* * *
“Oh, Kellen… ”
Gillian felt her face crumple as he blurred before her. She’d been concentrating so hard on what she was going to say to him that when he’d sunk down on one knee, when she’d realized he was proposing, she’d been taken completely by surprise.
She blinked against tears as she looked into his earnest face, felt his warm, raspy skin against her fingers, and all the problems between them fell away.
She loved him, and he loved her. She could see it in his face; feel it as he looked at her. She wanted him to choose her so much, and here he was, this strong, capable, gorgeous man, barely breathing as he waited for her answer. He had such a tender expression on his face, it was all she could do to not simply melt into a puddle at his feet. He’d choose her when given the choice between her and Edith. She really believed he would.
His brow creased in sudden worry and he swallowed audibly. More tears rushed to her eyes. “Kellen, I love you so much.”
He let out a breath, grasped her hand on his cheek, and turned his head to kiss her palm again. “You had me worried for a moment, dearest.”
Her heart fluttered at the heartfelt endearment, and she watched as he dug in the pouch at his waist and pulled out an intricately braided silver ring. Tears blurred her vision. “It’s beautiful.”
“You have not answered my question. I know ’tis all arranged, but I would have you want me for your own self, as I want you, and not out of a sense of obligation.” He swallowed again as he studied her face, his vulnerable expression clearly revealing how much her answer mattered to him. “I would call it off if you did not truly want me.”
Gillian’s heart pounded. She loved him so much at that moment her heart ached. “Yes. If you could ever want me, just for me, then yes, I’d marry you in a heartbeat. It’s what I want with everything I have in me. I want to marry you, and be your wife, and have your babies, and love you until the day I die.”
