I choose you.
Aye, she had chosen Cull too, and if he was brave enough to stand against Duncan, then she was too. Though she glimpsed Ainsley’s forward movement beside her, she strode forward as well. To the sounds of surprised gasps, she met him halfway. There, they stopped and stared into each other’s eyes, and she did not care who saw. Aye, she was frightened, but she’d never felt more alive.
She tied the ribbon just below his shoulder, around the flexed muscle of his arm.
“Thank you, fair lady,” said Cull, his voice husky with humor.
“Win the day,” she breathed.
“I intend to,” he murmured. “And the lady as well.”
He backed away, his eyes fixed on hers. She returned to the periphery of the field, where she avoided the gaping stares of the women who waited there. Ignoring them, she turned back to watch.
Cull drew his sword, and handed the empty sheath to Lord Nester’s grandson who’d approached him, appearing intent on acting as his squire. The boy drew back to stand beside Derryth, his eyes trained on Cull, his eyes alight with admiration.
After that, Cull did not hesitate. He lifted his sword.
The air sounded with the clash of metal. He moved with lightning quickness, meeting the first challenger with easy confidence, and encouragements, though eventually the man fell away—red faced and yielding victory. Nearby, Robert performed much the same exercises with a line of challengers.
Duncan remained in place, his features carved into stone. Of course he was furious that she’d tied the ribbon on Cull’s arm. No doubt he already plotted some punishment against them both. But she was tired of being afraid, and she would not beg his forgiveness for what she had done.
Lord Nester strode forward, gesturing toward Cull. “There, men, do you see? The way he lunged forward and swung his sword, as one movement, without hesitation? Continue to watch this man. There is a reason his name is spoken with such reverence among the fighting men of Scotland.”
“And among the ladies as well!” called Lady Nester.
Laughter filled the air. Cull himself appeared not to have heard the compliments. He smiled easily, speaking to Robert and several other men, one of whom bent over his sword, as if to examine its craftsmanship.
At last, Lord Nester moved into their midst, hands raised. “Enough. The contest is done. I think ’tis clear who must be declared champion.”
“Unless Duncan wishes to offer challenge,” said Buchan abruptly, moving forward. He looked between Cull and his son, who remained fixed in place.
Silence fell over the gathered party, along with an almost palpable tension. It was as if Buchan sought to provoke his son against Cull, and perhaps vice versa. Derryth suddenly felt very warm … and cold at the same time. Aye, she was agitated by the scene unfolding before her, but why did she feel so strange? The dizziness returned, teasing along the edges of her vision. Was it only that she had not eaten? Or could it be that she was ill?
Or …
Her breath caught in her throat.
She had missed her monthly courses. With everything else happening, she hadn’t realized.
Duncan lifted his chin. “Of course Sir Cull is an impressive warrior. Who would dispute that?” He spoke the words with a distinct edge of sarcasm. “It is all he knows. He is nothing more than a savage dog, trained to fight for his master. For that reason I decline.”
“For what reason?” Robert demanded.
“Because he’s a damned slave,” Duncan thundered. “Did you know that, everyone?” He let out a cutting laugh. “My father purchased him off a slave ship when he was but a boy. He’ll never be anything but a slave. And yet our father, and now you, Robert, continually encourage him to believe he is something better.”
Hearing his vile words, Derryth’s pulse increased, and a thin sheen of perspiration rose upon her arms and against the back of her neck. She despised Duncan … and pitied him! That he should be so intentionally cruel, out of petty jealousy, made him seem so very pathetic. But she knew Duncan’s pettiness made him dangerous, and if she had feared for Cull before, she feared for him doubly so, now that she knew … she knew she carried his child.
Everyone stood silent, staring at him. Buchan’s nostrils flared, but he did not speak. Perhaps she read his expression wrong, but he appeared embarrassed for his son. Behind him, Cull stood unmoving, his stance as relaxed as before, as if Duncan’s words did not wound him in the least. With his blue eyes alight and a half-smile on his lips, appeared almost amused.
Duncan strode past Cull, his gaze fixed on Derryth. “Why meet this nothing in contest, when I have already won?” His lip curled into a taunting smile. “She may have tied a ribbon on your arm, but it is I who will marry her, and take her each night into my bed.”
Derryth flinched at the words, fearing they would provoke Cull’s response, and indeed, Cull’s eyes went flat and black, and he moved as if to intercept Duncan—
“No,” she said, stepping forward.
But the world turned suddenly, disappearing from under her feet. She saw nothing more, because the day turned black.
* * *
Cull carried Derryth toward the castle, Duncan forgotten. Everyone followed close behind him.
“Take her into the hall,” cried Lady Nester.
“Nay, take her straightaway to her room,” Mairead replied.
“Summon my physician,” Lord Nester ordered.
To his relief, he felt her move in his arms. Glancing down, he saw her blue eyes looking up at him, hazy and confused. But the color had not returned to her cheeks.
“You fainted, I think,” he said.
“I’m sure that is all,” she replied, straightening. “You can put me down.”
“I will not.”
Up the steps of the castle he carried her and inside the great wooden doors, held open by Buchan’s guards. Inside, he took the steps upward into the tower. Voices echoed off the stone walls, all around them.
“Careful not to drop her,” Ainsley said, sounding insincere.
On the landing where he’d kissed her the night before, he dipped his head.
“Don’t be afraid. I’m going to get you out of here,” he murmured. “I won’t let him marry you.”
She peered up at him, her eyes warm and soft. “I can’t marry him. I don’t love him. He’s not the father of my bairn.”
He was overtaken then, by women intent on tending to her. They urged him toward her curtained bed, and pulled down the covers, and set about pouring water.
And yet he noted very little of that. All he heard inside his head were the words she’d spoken. Really, just the one. Bairn.
A baby.
“You’re certain?” he asked softly, as he lay her down, her head upon the pillow.
“Yes,” she whispered back, color flushing her cheeks.
His chest seized tight. He wanted to order them all out of the room … to be alone with her, and yet he was pushed … jostled toward the door.
He heard Derryth’s voice behind him. “I do not need a physician. I did not eat this morning, nor last night. That is all. Yes, truly. Yes, Lady Nester, I’m well.”
* * *
Cull did not see Derryth again that evening. He overheard that she took her evening meal in her room. Being separated from her put him on edge and no doubt he scowled, for everyone in the great room gave him wide berth. Most especially Ainsley, who’d been casting him wounded looks all night. He was doubly cross for having his efforts to meet with Buchan yet again rebuffed, with another promise of tomorrow.
Tomorrow would come, and he would have his say with the earl, and as honor required him to do, he would formally relinquish his command of the siege at Inverhaven. Then, one way or another, he would get Derryth out of this place. Whether he would return with her to her family—which would be a very complicated decision for him—or take her far from the Highlands remained to be seen. It was his plan that they would make the decision together, after his meet
ing with Buchan.
A short distance away, the earl played chess with Lord Nester. At the Wolf’s every move, those who watched broke out into praise and applause, marveling over his cunning. Duncan sat on the opposite side of the room, throwing dice with a group of men.
Robert appeared out of the shadows, to sit beside Cull on the bench, goblet in hand.
“I can see you are most unhappy,” he murmured.
“That I do not deny. Your father rebuffs my attempts to speak with him at every turn.”
“Because he knows he does not want to hear what you have to say.”
“He will hear it tomorrow. I will wait no longer.”
“Aye, I’ll stand with y’ Cull.” He chuckled. “We’ll face that storm together. But this night does not have to be so miserable as you’re making it out to be.”
His hand came down on the bench between them. Shifting toward him, his dark eyes intent in the night, Robert pressed something hard and cool into his hand, which, glancing down, Cull saw to be a key. A key that he knew, without asking, would open the door to Derryth’s chamber.
“Don’t say I never gave you anything,” said Robert. “There are hidden stairs. I’ll show you where. You won’t be seen.”
It was a dangerous gift, but Cull felt no fear. Only a rush of anticipation at being alone with her—of holding the woman who, if he could protect her, would bear his child.
“You have done much to prove yourself as a friend to me,” he said to Robert. “But your own brother has made clear he intends to marry her, so he can have Inverhaven. Your father, while he has not yet agreed to Duncan’s demands, will no doubt seek to use her in some way to serve his own purposes. So this key … why?”
Robert looked down into his goblet, pensive. “Because you love her, and she loves you.”
He closed his eyes. “That I do.”
Robert murmured, “I was once in love. With a beautiful young woman who was, to her misfortune, a ward of my father.”
Cull turned his face to him. “And?”
It was the first he’d heard of this. Robert and Duncan, like their father, were notorious for their affairs. But there had been some change in Robert. Perhaps this woman was the reason why.
“My father, always the ruthless player, sought to make a game piece of her as well. She was not good enough for me, I was told,” he muttered. “And he determined that he would use her elsewhere.” He leaned forward, and rubbed his thumb across his jaw. “Not good enough for me—what farce. It was I who was not good enough for her.”
“What happened?”
“My father all but plundered her inheritance, taking her properties for his own. As part of his campaign against the Kincaids, he betrothed her to a Highlander—the son of one of the lairds who betrayed them the night they were all killed. A pathetic excuse for a man.” He looked across the room, at nothing. “She died. Terribly, if you must know. And in the two years since, I have … tried to forget my anger. The way I still feel. But as time passes, my need for vengeance … nay, not vengeance, but to set things right, only grows. Perhaps Buchan is my father by blood … and Duncan, my brother … but they are no family of mine.”
Cull had never had a family, and had always envied those who did. But in this moment, he saw that he and Robert were very much the same.
“I don’t want the same thing to happen to you and Derryth. Don’t allow her to be torn from you. If there is any chance you can … defy … even triumph over this pit of vipers that is my family, I will help you in any way.”
Cull tightened his grip on the key. “Then I would beg one more favor.”
* * *
Long after the midnight bell tolled, Derryth lay awake, with only a small fire on the hearth to light the room. Even as exhausted as she was from the night before, she could not sleep now.
She was carrying Cull’s child. The signs had been there for days, and she’d blamed them on fear and anxiety, but this morning, she’d put them all together. It had been much the same with Elspeth … except with Elspeth, there’d been so much joy at realizing.
But Derryth was alone, and separated from Cull, wondering how they would ever be together—and desperately afraid. Even now, loving him, and knowing he loved her, she could not look one day into the future.
A sound came from the small door beside the hearth, one she supposed led to a back passageway but that had always remained locked. Fearful, she sat up, looking that direction. Again a sound … a furtive turn of the key, and the scrape of wood against stone. She threw back the covers and stood, searching for anything she might use as a weapon to defend herself.
But before she could, a tall, hulking figure emerged, ducking his head before stepping inside.
“Cull!” she cried. Crossing the floor, she threw herself into his arms. They tightened about her, and he bent to press an urgent kiss against her cheek.
A moment later, she realized he was not alone.
Chapter 19
Robert came into the room behind him, his gaze sharp and clear. Then a smaller, stockier man wearing the garb of a priest, who appeared very nervous to be standing in their presence.
She exhaled … realizing …
Cull came near, taking her hands. “I told you I would get you out of here, and that I will. All I ask is for one more day to put affairs in order with Buchan, and then we will go—escaping, if necessary.”
She nodded, her heart beating fast with excitement and trepidation. “I will wait for you.”
“But tonight Derryth … marry me,” Cull said. He peered down at her in the darkness, his eyes gleaming and his jaw set in a determined line. And yet his hand, which rested at her back, spread wide and his arm pulled her closer, into a tender embrace. “Because you can’t marry Duncan if you’re married to me. And if I am to die tomorrow … or the next day … or a fortnight from now, I would have our child know that his mother was married to his father.”
If he died?
No, she thought in desperation. He could not die. She loved him too much.
“Yes, I will marry you,” she choked out, tears rising in her eyes, her only regret being that she would marry him with her hair in a simple braid and while wearing a night-rail. On second thought, she could imagine nothing more perfect. How precious the memory would always be.
How far they had come from that first moment, when he’d lifted her up out of the mud and carried her into his life. She’d been so miserable at the time. And oh, yes, she was quite miserable still, but how strange life could be, for at the same time, she’d never been happier than in this moment. She did not know what tomorrow would bring, but she had Cull now.
“I’ve no name to give you, no—” He said the words so solemnly.
“You are everything honorable and good, Cull. You are what I love. I don’t want or need a name,” she interrupted, her heart tightening in her chest. “I need you.”
“Then let us begin,” said Robert, urging the priest forward.
Cull took Derryth’s hand, and held it between both of his as the words were spoken. She closed her eyes, listening to the powerful words of the priest, and loving the sound of Cull’s voice as he repeated them. Love. Comfort. Cherish. Then it was her turn.
“Until death, do you part,” the priest pronounced.
Her heart beat faster. It was done. She sighed, peering into her husband’s gravely serious, handsome face.
Bending, he kissed her, sending a rush of pleasure through her, so different than she’d known before, for along with the passion, there was also a promise of forever—however long their forever might be.
“You may both go now,” Cull said to the two men, without taking his eyes off her. “I wish to be alone with my wife.”
She knew what his words meant. That they would make love. Already, the flame of desire sparked between them, underscored by the magnitude of what they’d just done. She saw the smoky heat in his eyes, and knew the same to be reflected in her own. She had spent so many nights alone,
with only the memory of their time together in his quarters to occupy her mind, and fantasies of being intimate with him again. She had never felt so close to someone. Cull made her happy. He made her brave. Somehow, knowing the danger they placed themselves in by being together made the forbidden moments they would share when they were alone even sweeter. Her pulse jumped in anticipation.
Robert laughed, low in his throat. “Well then … congratulations,” he said. “And”—his smile faded—“be careful leaving. You must be gone from here before dawn.”
The servants would be about, lighting fires and pouring fresh water into basins. Cull followed the priest and Robert to the door, and they disappeared into the passageway. Cull produced a key from somewhere at his waist, with which he locked the door.
Turning to her, he looked at her for a long moment, a half smile rising to his lips, and emotion bright in his eyes. Seeing this, Derryth felt as if her heart doubled in size.
“It seems we are married, Derryth,” he said, his voice low and husky.
“We are,” she replied.
“How does a husband make love to his wife on their wedding night?”
Happiness flooded through her, sending a flush into her cheeks. “The same way Cull makes love to Derryth. Beautifully.”
His eyes darkened with passion, and he closed the distance between them, so handsome she shivered from the sight. He took both of her hands in his.
“I love you,” she whispered, peering up into his eyes.
“You won’t be sorry,” he replied, suddenly serious. “I’ll live every day making sure of that.”
Raising her hands, he kissed her knuckles … her fingertips … and her palms. There was so much to fear in their lives, but his unerring strength and honor calmed her.
They would never know true peace as long as Buchan lived. She knew that. But what Cull promised was enough. What mattered was that they loved each other, and that there was trust. The rest they could conquer, day by day.
“As if I needed convincing.” She sighed, loving him. “I’m so happy to be your wife.”
“Say that again.” Bending, he kissed her mouth, as his hands touched her collarbone. Unlacing her night-rail, his hands and fingertips brushed against her skin, sending a rush of arousal spearing through her body.
The Warrior of Clan Kincaid Page 21
