“He would have killed us all and taken Werrick.” James shook his head. “The fault doesna lie with ye, lass.”
Catriona nodded. “Then I’m sorry I did not act quickly enough to prevent you from being attacked. I…” Her face crumpled and she looked away in an obvious attempt to regain her composure. “I hesitated. I didn’t want to kill him.”
James drew from a dwindling well of energy and took her small hand. It was hot and damp against his fingers. “Ye did what ye had to, Cat, and ye saved the lot of us by doing it. Ye did well.”
She nodded solemnly.
Leila took Cat’s place and gazed down at him with a slight furrow to her brow. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. How could one tell another their father was to die?”
“The failure of our union?” James prompted.
Leila nodded. “I could not see everything, but I knew. You are much stronger than I expected. I thought you’d side with your father.” Leila held out a small bag toward him. “These are for you.”
James peered inside and found several poultices and a few vials of cloudy liquid. Items that were not hurriedly made but had been prepared in advance. “Ye made these prior to the battle.”
“Aye.” She held his gaze. “Even though I thought you had betrayed us, you are still a part of our family.” She brightened. “I’m pleased you did not, though.”
He reached for the small bag. Anice rushed forward to take it as it began to slip from his weak grip. “You need rest.” Concern showed in her eyes. “Go on, girls. Off with you. I’ll be with you in a moment’s time.”
“The vial will help you sleep, while keeping the fever at bay.” Leila turned away with Cat and Ella reluctantly following behind her. The creature Ella had rescued remained perched on her shoulder.
He wanted to ask what it was, to jest about it with Anice, to hold her hand and cradle her against him. But she was pulling the stopper from a small vial and assisting him in getting the bitter contents into his mouth and down his throat.
“Those girls love you.” Anice put the empty vial into the bag, then leaned over him and pressed a kiss to his brow. “I love you.” She kissed his lips, sweet and tender.
“I love ye, mo leannan.” He tried to reach for her, but his arm wouldn’t cooperate. The exhaustion and the injury had finally taken their toll.
“Say it again,” she whispered and closed her eyes. “For I thought at one point to never hear it again.”
“I love ye, mo leannan.”
Anice pressed her lips together and opened her eyes. “Rest now, my love.”
He let his eyes close, having no choice, but to do exactly as she bade.
James woke sometime later and discovered he had been tucked into a comfortable bed. Sleep tried to lure him back to its embrace, but laughter filtered into his room from somewhere below. Women’s laughter. Most likely Anice and her sisters.
Warmth touched his heart at the thought of his wife. His bonny wife. Because after everything they’d been through, he now appreciated what it was to trust the woman he loved.
All the years of rage at Morna’s betrayal eased away. After all, if he had not walked in on her, he might never have known of her infidelity. And he’d never have met Anice.
More laughter trickled in from the window, and James’s lips lifted in a smile at the joyful sounds. They were a family like he had always wanted, one whose bonds went beyond blood. A family willing to accept despite wrongdoings, despite even being a Graham. He had lost a father, but he had gained a family.
“Ye dinna look like ye’re resting.” Drake peered in from the open doorway. He lifted a brow. “Does that mean ye’re ready to spar?”
“Lucky for ye, I canna do it just yet,” James countered. “Mayhap after I’ve moved around a bit, aye?”
Drake came into the room. Sunlight played over his face, highlighting the deep bruises and swelling of his skin. The lad didn’t even seem to notice his own injuries.
“Thank ye.” James nodded up at him. “For protecting Anice.”
“I’ve got sisters.” Drake lifted his shoulders in a helpless shrug. “Several. I’ve been protective of Lord Werrick’s daughters since I met them.”
A shriek sounded below followed by giggles.
“They’re in the garden,” Drake said. ”Do you want to join them?”
James nodded. “More than anything else.”
Drake came to his side and lowered his arm, putting it at the ready for James to use as a brace. “Come on, then. The sooner ye recover, the sooner I can get a new sparring partner.”
Anice kept an eye on the wild creature scurrying about Ella’s feet. “What is it?”
Ella dropped a bit of food to her new pet and the animal fell on the treat. “Moppet is a squirrel.”
Moppet did not resemble a squirrel. The beast was nearly too large to be one. It stood on its hind legs, fur mussed and standing every which way. It held the food in its one hand, while its shiny black eyes darted about. No doubt seeking out its next victim.
Piquette gave a low growl of warning when the squirrel set its gaze on him. Anice rubbed a loving hand over her dog’s large head. Engelbart had personally brought Piquette to Anice as soon as he’d received notice it was safe to do so. Anice hadn’t known the large dog could run with such haste, but he charged at her like a pup when he first saw her and nearly knocked her to the ground.
“Regardless, I’d prefer you not set Moppet near James while he rests.” Anice glanced up at the castle to gaze at the window of their shared room. It had only been several days since his injury, but he had been resting a considerable amount. Thus far, the fever had not touched him, and she wanted it to stay that way.
Having a corpulent squirrel with a mischievous streak frolicking about on the sheets beside him would be a poor decision.
“He only wishes to help,” Ella offered simply.
Moppet scurried up a tree, settled upon a low branch and flung a berry down at Cat. It bounced off her forehead. She started, then placed a hand over the point of impact and laughed good-naturedly. “He is such a feisty creature. I’m pleased he recovered so well.”
Leila shifted slightly to put herself behind Cat, and out of Moppet’s sight.
“Moppet,” Ella chided. She lifted her hand up and the animal obediently scurried down from the tree and into her arms.
Piquette bristled but remained at Anice’s side. In truth, he never left her anymore. He went about as though he were tethered to her hip, the sweet boy.
Anice laughed at the scene. While she hated her reason for returning to Werrick, it was so good to be home. Everyone was exactly the same as when she’d left. Her father still doted on his daughters and ruled the West March with fairness. Nan ran the kitchen seamlessly, grousing about the new butcher and his attempt to sweeten her disposition with an extra side of venison. William was still as uncompromisingly kind as he was knowledgeable about the castle and its land. Geordie was still madly in love with Cat, and Ella continued to follow the Master of the Horse with doe-eyed longing.
Anice’s world had gone on in another direction, carving her own trail in life, while theirs had continued as it always had. Somehow seeing this, knowing that they would always be here, unchanged, gave her peace at going along her own path. In truth, she was beginning to miss Caldrick Castle. The land had just begun to show shoots to reward the Grahams for their hard work in their fields, and Ingrith had become the confidante Anice had needed. Even the cook’s brusque manner in the kitchen had started to soften toward Anice, and it made him all the more endearing.
A pang hit her heart. She was ready to go home. With her husband. Back to their shared life.
Piquette leapt to his feet with a whimper and dashed toward the castle. Startled, Anice jerked her attention up and found James coming toward them, supported by Drake at his side.
Geordie ran out from behind the two of them and waved with exuberance in Cat’s direction.
“Piquette,” Anice said i
n a gentle warning tone. It was caution enough for a dog as tender-hearted as Piquette. The great beast immediately slowed, his tail nervously wagging as he whimpered his frustration at not being able to leap upon James.
James. Anice’s heart nearly sung at the appearance of her husband on the sunny, perfect day. She had to stay her own excitement, to keep from rushing toward him as Piquette had, and throwing her arms around his broad, powerful shoulders.
“I heard such bonny laughter from my room.” James gave an apologetic smile. “I couldna stay in that bed any longer.”
“I’m so glad you came.” Anice went to James’s free side. “Are you feeling well?” While she was overjoyed at seeing her husband, she could not stop her nervous glance at his tunic to ensure he had not begun to bleed through his bandages after the exertion of walking downstairs.
James put his arm around Anice’s shoulders. He closed his eyes, turned his face to the sun and breathed in deeply. “I’ve no’ ever been happier, mo leannan.” He opened his eyes and grinned down at her.
“I anticipate he’ll be sparring with me soon.” Drake led James to a bench in the garden and helped him sit. A nut flew down from the tree and bounced off the top of Drake’s head. He ignored it, even as the younger girls shared a laugh.
Anice took the seat beside James and laid her head on his shoulder, mindful of his injuries. His wonderful, familiar smell surrounded her and brought with it the happy memories of their life together at Caldrick Castle.
“I’m looking forward to being home together once more.” Anice entwined her fingers with his large ones.
“Home?” His voice was in her ear.
She lifted her head and regarded her handsome husband. “Our home. In Carlisle.”
He smiled and lowered his head to kiss her. An acorn smacked into his temple. He lifted his brows without bothering to turn. “Moppet?”
Anice had told him enough stories of the little demon squirrel for him to know the beast simply by the action, which was funny enough for them all to laugh. Even Drake.
“Mayhap we’ll be going home sooner than later.” James winked at Anice as another nut flew down from the tree.
Epilogue
April 1338
* * *
The land had been good to them. In two years of crops, the rich soil of Carlisle had yielded enough to feed all its people and provide even more for sale.
It was not only the land that had been good to them. Life had been equally as good to them, perhaps more so.
Anice lifted her golden-haired babe from his cradle and curled him close in her arms. Sweet young Gavin gave a little coo of contentment and snuggled closer into her warmth on the cool spring morning. She sang softly as she swayed in that age-old way mothers do when holding their babes. Never had she imagined herself as a mother.
However, when Gavin was born, it was as though the final piece of happiness to Anice’s life had been revealed. She gazed down at her son, staring at the perfect curve of his small nose, the brilliance of his blue eyes, the delicate curve of his lips, and her heart ached with indescribable love.
Piquette’s tail thumped against Anice’s thigh, impatient for a view of the small child. Anice gently lowered her son and let Piquette give him a nuzzling sniff.
Gavin opened his mouth in a wide yawn, revealing a small tongue stained white with milk. Anice chuckled and drew him back against her. “You must be a tired boy.”
“Was it from keeping us up last eve?” James asked from the doorway. He padded into the room and put an arm around her.
“’Tis exhausting preventing one’s parents from sleeping.” Anice slid James a playful smile.
Aye, she was tired, but she was happy.
She knew Ingrith would get up with Gavin, and she knew a wet nurse would allow her to sleep through the night. But Ingrith had her own son to wake up with in the morning, as well as a full day of work ahead of her. And after Anice had nursed Gavin herself, she would never hire a wet nurse. She loved those mornings rocking him, listening to the greedy gulps as her milk let down, and the drowsy warmth of her son as he grew full and tired once more.
“Ye’re a good mother.” James smoothed a loose hair behind Anice’s ear. “I love seeing ye with our son.”
“And you’re a good father.” She smiled up at her husband. “And a good laird as well.”
It was true. He’d done everything he set out to do. Peace and prosperity had been restored to the land. His father’s death had laid to rest the dreams of sacking Werrick Castle ever again. Or at least by the Grahams who remained in Carlisle. They were content to work the land with their families, to have a home and food and safety. The ones who did not wish to follow such a life had returned to the Debatable Lands.
Everything was going exactly right in their lives.
A knock sounded at the door. “My Lady, Mistress Davidson has just arrived.”
James and Anice regarded each other curiously.
“Were ye expecting Marin?” James asked.
Anice shook her head. “Nay. Mayhap she’s here to see Gavin, although it is rather early for a visit.”
James held out his arms to hold Gavin, and Anice gave him their son. “Only until we see Marin, and then you know she’ll want to hold him,” she warned.
For as large as James was, he was the gentlest of men when it came to their son. Those powerful arms moved slow and tender as he cradled their small bairn against him and crooned soft endearments in Gaelic. Gavin stared up in adoring wonder at his father and reached a hand toward James’s beard.
Gavin did that often, gripping the wiry hair of James’s beard. But never once did James pull away or scold their son. He patiently held his head in place as Gavin’s little hands tugged. Anice led them all from the room. “Give him a bit of time and he’s going to hurt you.”
“Ach,” James said dismissively. “Unless he stabs me, I’ll be fine.” He winked at Anice and shifted Gavin in his arms as they went below stairs.
Her jaw dropped open in mock offense. “Mayhap I need to stab you again?”
He grinned. “Nay. Unless I deserve it.”
“If you continue thus, you may well.” She laughed in spite of herself and kissed James on the cheek.
They opened the door to the great hall to welcome Bran and Marin who were already sitting at a trestle with steaming mugs in front of them. Gavin gave a gurgling sound and Marin turned toward them. She got to her feet, strode several steps and went still.
Emotions played over her face, ones so raw Anice felt every one of them mirrored in her own soul. The surprise at the babe Marin already knew about, the immediate punch of hurt to her own empty womb, and then the joy for her sister. “Is this Gavin?” Marin asked in a whisper.
Anice’s throat went tight thinking of her sister’s inability to conceive. Of all the sisters, Marin was guaranteed to be the best mother after so many years of caring for everyone else. The one of them who wanted a child with every piece of herself, and yet Marin had been the one rendered barren. She had a happy life, but such a longing could not be easily quelled. Unable to find her voice, Anice simply nodded.
Marin held out her arms. “May I?”
Anice nodded again and James passed Gavin to Marin with gentle hands. Anice’s elder sister took the baby in her arms and hugged him to her. The raw ache on her face, the hurt of not having a child of her own, nearly shattered Anice’s heart.
Marin stroked a hand over Gavin’s downy blond hair and pressed a kiss to his small forehead. Gavin looked up at her with his wide, curious blue eyes and poked his tongue from between his lips. Marin gave a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Bran was at her side in a moment, hovering the way a concerned husband does.
Marin smiled up at him in a silent show that everything was all right. She met Anice’s gaze with glossy eyes. “He’s beautiful, Anice. Absolutely perfect.”
“I pray God will give you one of your own soon,” Anice said with heartfelt sincerity.
&nb
sp; “We will take all the prayers we can,” Marin said gratefully. “We have not lost hope.”
After nearly five years without a child, most would have. But most were not Marin.
“Prayers, however, are not why we have come to you.” Marin shifted Gavin in her arms, cradling him in the crook of her elbow. “Anice, the king is accusing Father of being a Scottish sympathizer.”
Anice straightened at once. “How is that possible? He has been a loyal supporter, always serving the crown. We would not be safe in such dangerous lands were it not for his unwavering fealty.”
Marin shifted her gaze back to the babe in her arms and smoothed a palm over his fuzzy head. Gavin had gone to sleep, his pale lashes resting against rosy cheeks. This was when Anice liked to kiss him best, when she could bestow a hundred kisses on his small face without him pulling back or opening his drooling smile.
“It’s us,” Marin said in a solemn tone. “We’ve both married Scotsmen.”
“But—” Anice cut short her protest. They hadn’t had a choice in the matter, neither she nor Marin. However, stating what they all knew would serve no good. “There must be some way to prove Father is loyal.”
“There is, per the king’s suggestion.” Marin took a deep breath. “Ella will have to marry the Earl of Calville, by order of the king, to prove Father’s loyalty.”
Dread sucked at Anice. “Ella? Can it not be Cat?”
While Anice was loath to confine poor Cat to a forced marriage, Cat would go willingly to her fate. Ella, on the other hand…
Marin’s chagrined expression echoed Anice’s thoughts. “According to the king’s missive, the union is to be held between Lord Calville and Lord Werrick’s eldest unwed daughter. It is why I travel at such an hour, and why I have come to see you. We must go and convince her, for Father’s sake.”
Anice cast a glance at James.
“It’s been far too long since we last visited,” he offered. “Engelbart can see to things until we return.” He was right, of course. Anice had ceased traveling to Werrick once she discovered she was with child and longed to visit with her sisters once more.
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