Fiona began to relax, believing her stay in Kiely would be enjoyable. However, when she glanced across the table, a shiver passed through her body.
Lady Sibeal had barely touched her dessert and was watching Leland and Clare with an odd expression. When she caught Fiona looking her direction, she smiled, but her gaze was sharp as a razor.
After supper, Lord Dawley invited Leland to his study. A servant helped the frail earl sit behind his desk and he sat across from him while gathering his thoughts. It was his chance to plead his case for Tristan. If he could convince the Earl of Aoife to delay choosing a new leader for Órlaith, he could help sway the council.
Lord Dawley hunched over his desk, and struggled to catch his breath before looking up. “I trust you were able to rest a while before supper?”
“Aye, Milord. Thank you for offering rooms for myself and Lady Meara. However, I hope you will not object to me returning to my cottage after tonight. It is still standing after my absence, correct?”
Lord Dawley nodded. “Of course. I have had one of my men taking care of its upkeep. I understand you are more comfortable outside the walls of the castle.” He thanked the earl before he went on. “Now, to the business at hand. As you well know, I requested your presence back here so we could choose the new leader for the kingdom.”
“Aye, before you go on, I have some news about King Tristan.”
Lord Dawley’s eyes widened. “News?”
“He lives, Milord. At least about a year ago there was a sighting of him.” He pulled King Ewan’s sealed letter from the pocket of his cloak and handed it to the earl.
The earl struggled to break the seal as an involuntary tremor seized his hand. After managing to unfold the letter with much difficulty, he read the words with haste before looking back up at him in shock. “King Ewan is certain it was him?”
Leland nodded. “Aye, he knew King Donovan. You know how much Tristan favored his late father in appearance.” Lord Dawley looked over the letter again, but remained silent, prompting him to continue. “All I’m asking for is some more time. Now I know which direction to search and he is calling himself Brody. I know I could find him if given the chance.”
The earl rubbed his forehead and let out a deep sigh. “I will delay the council, but I cannot delay longer than a month. My frail health will not allow me to rule as regent much longer and our people need leadership. They have waited long enough… and all for a king who cannot remember who he is.”
Leland smiled. “Thank you, Milord. I believe I can help him remember. The people deserve their rightful king returned to them.” The Earl of Aoife gave him an odd glance, making him pause. “What is it?”
The other man waved away his concern, but then leaned forward, eyes intense. “I should not be saying this, but you’ll find out soon enough. Some of the people in Kiely already have their attention fixed on someone else to lead them.”
Leland’s heart leapt at his words. “Who?”
The earl shrugged. “With many nobles dead after the attack on Órlaith and whole family lines cut off, there is someone else with an ancient claim to the throne—an heir who the Kielyans consider a guardian and protector because of his actions after King Malcolm’s attack.”
Leland covered his face for a moment before looking back at Lord Dawley. “Well, I knew I would have opposition. Regardless, I still plan to find my cousin.”
The earl released a light chuckle that sounded more like a cough. “You are an intelligent and wise young man, but I am afraid you are sometimes blind!”
He stared at the other man with a furrowed brow. “I do not understand, Milord.”
Lord Dawley leaned forward with his hands on his desk, his eyes intense. “The heir I speak of is you, Leland. The people want you as their king.”
CHAPTER TEN
The Cottage
The next morning, Fiona awoke in the guest chambers of Kiely Fortress. She and Clare had gotten a good night’s sleep on the soft down-filled bed. Part of her longed to spend another night or two in the beautiful room. However, she knew it was time to move on to lower profile living arrangements. Lady Kyna seemed curious about her and she didn’t want to give her the opportunity to pry into her past.
After preparing for the day and dressing in the new gowns the countess had given them, Fiona and Clare met Leland in the hallway. He smiled at them like usual and lifted Clare into his arms. However, the smile on his face didn’t seem to reach his eyes. When they ate breakfast with the Earl and Countess, Leland carried on a conversation, but only the bare minimum to be polite. She also noticed Lady Sibeal neglected to join them.
After breakfast, they thanked their hosts and bid them farewell. Leland relaxed a little then and carried Clare on his shoulders as they walked through the village. The villagers were overjoyed at his presence, rushing out to greet him. To her surprise, he knew most of them by name.
They journeyed about half an hour outside the populated part of Kiely before reaching a landscaped clearing angled up to the side of the mountain. Flower, herb and vegetable gardens were planted in neat rows and a small stream ran to the far northern side. As they walked past the gardens, a cozy cottage came into view with nothing but the mountains and forest beyond. Fiona stared in wordless awe, never imagining anything could be so beautiful.
Leland smiled at her. “I hope this will do. I’ll have guards posted nearby and I’ll be close. My cottage is further up the mountain about ten minutes away. If you follow the stream it will lead you straight to it.” When Fiona didn’t respond, he put Clare down and the little girl dashed off to smell the buttercups in one of the gardens. “This place doesn’t look like much compared to the fortress, but Aunt Edna keeps the cottage spotless inside and cooks good meals, too. You can try it for a few weeks and if it isn’t a good fit, I’ll find you somewhere with more privacy.”
Fiona put her hand on his arm to stop him. “It looks perfect, Leland.” He paused for a moment at her use of his first name and a smile curved on his lips. It was the first time she’d addressed him so informally. She blushed and tried to recover. “I mean, thank you for all you’ve done for us, Milord. I’ll not forget your kindness. I’m sure we will have some peace and quiet here, not to mention room for Clare to run.”
He lifted her hand and kissed it. “You’re welcome, Fiona,” he replied, whispering her real name even though not a soul was around to hear it. Something about the way he said it caused butterflies to flutter around in her stomach.
The moment was cut short when she saw movement near the cottage. “Leland, my dear lad!” A stout, ginger-haired woman rushed down the path with her arms open wide. “I heard rumors of your return, but couldn’t fully believe it until I saw you with my own eyes.”
While Fiona turned to retrieve her daughter from a nearby garden, Leland met the woman halfway up the path. Artair trotted behind him with happy barks. Fiona and Clare caught up in time to witness the joyful reunion.
Leland bent down to hug the widow. “I’m sorry I couldn’t pay a visit here first. We were snagged by the countess for the evening, I’m afraid.”
“Oh dear. ‘Tis a wonder you made it out alive!” They shared a chuckle as she leaned back to look at him with a more sober expression. “In truth, I had begun to worry when you didn’t return, but you look well enough.” She paused to inspect the new scar on his forehead like a mother might do.
“Thank you. Now, I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve brought some guests.” He motioned for Fiona to step forward.
“Oh, yes, forgive me, my dear. I heard about the young lady you brought with you and the wee child.” She caught sight of Fiona holding her daughter and gasped with delight. “Oh, how precious.”
“This is Lady Meara and her daughter, Clare.”
“‘Tis a pleasure. Tell me, do you have a place to stay for the night?”
Fiona held her breath, but Leland seemed at ease. “I was actually hoping for a longer arrangement. You see, Lady Meara is recently wido
wed and came here to Kiely for refuge. Do you still have the extra room?”
“Oh, of course I do!” Widow Delaney’s eyes lit up with excitement as she turned back to Fiona. “I would be delighted to have you stay here, for as long as you need to.”
Fiona released the breath she’d been holding as relief flooded through her. “Thank you so much for your generosity, Madam. I can help earn my keep. I-I don’t know how to cook, but I’m a quick learner…and I can help clean and tend to the gardens.”
The woman enveloped her in a tight hug. “Oh, please call me Aunt Edna and you’ll be my guests, dear one. You can help with whatever you wish if it pleases you to do so, but ‘tis not a requirement. Keeping this old widow company is payment enough.” She motioned toward the door. “Now come follow me. I have a pot of tea brewing inside.”
After a full afternoon and evening at Aunt Edna’s house, Fiona retired to the spare room to put Clare to bed. Leland took the opportunity to sit outside with their hostess for a few moments before heading back to his cottage. “Thank you for accepting guests at a moment’s notice.”
“Aye, ‘tis my pleasure. So, tell me, how did you come across those sweet lost lambs during your travels in the north?”
He looked down and traced designs in the dust with a twig. “We were passing through Dóchas to search for King Tristan. Lady Meara was widowed and homeless and needed my aid. There was nothing for her in Brannagh.”
She patted his shoulder. “I suspected as much. You have always had a kind and generous heart, Leland.”
“So do you. ‘Tis why I knew I could trust you to keep them safe.”
“Are they in some kind of danger?”
“Aye.” He peeked over at Aunt Edna, wishing he could tell her the whole truth. She was the closest thing he had to kin and it pained him to deceive her. “I cannot explain why, but they must be protected. There are those in the north who could harm them. I’m sending guards to watch from a distant and scout the area. It is imperative her true identity be kept secret. ‘Tis why I cannot even reveal the truth to you.”
Widow Delaney’s eyes filled with concern. “I had a feeling that dear lost lamb was more than she let on. Do not fret. I will keep them safe. You have my word.”
He released a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I am in your debt.”
Fiona awoke to the songs of birds outside her window. When she opened her eyes, she felt disoriented at first but after studying her surroundings, her shoulders relaxed. The stone walls of the cottage came into view and then the warm glowing hearth on the far wall. She sat up and smiled, seeing her daughter slept on a small cot close to her bed.
The sun was higher than her window, telling her they had slept in, but she felt well rested after having the chance to catch up on some much-needed sleep. She made a silent vow to wake with the sunrise the next day and help Aunt Edna with the morning chores around the cottage.
Fiona stretched, donned a new gown and braided her long chestnut hair before waking her daughter. After Clare was dressed, they headed to the main room.
The widow stood by a large hearth adding more logs to the fire. “Good morning. I trust you both had a good night’s rest? I am sure this tiny cottage is quite rugged in comparison to staying at Kiely Fortress.”
Fiona smiled. “The room is adequate and comfortable ma’am. We slept very well. Thank you. We also enjoyed the peace and quiet.”
The older woman grabbed a two handled pot and starting mixing ingredients for porridge with an amused grin on her face. “I wager you didn’t find much peace and quiet at the fortress with the countess and her daughter around.” Fiona remained silent for a few moments to see if she heard her correctly. “Sorry, my dear. I suppose I shouldn’t speak of them in that way. They’re not so bad—at least the Earl of Aoife. He is an honorable man and helped Leland lead the survivors from Aoife to Kiely after the Battle of Órlaith. ‘Tis why King Tristan chose him as his regent.”
Fiona offered a sweet smile. “The Earl and Countess were very welcoming. Although I had the feeling Lady Sibeal did not care for me. I’m uncertain what I did to offend her. ‘Tis one of the reasons I was grateful to only stay at the fortress one evening.”
The older woman crossed to the fire to stir the porridge. “Her behavior is not because of something you’ve done. It has to do with who you arrived with.”
“Leland?”
“Aye, he has become the most eligible nobleman in Kiely since the attack on Órlaith. The Countess of Aoife has been trying to arrange a betrothal between Leland and her daughter ever since.”
Fiona stared at the table, beginning to understand. “So, I am perceived as a threat.”
“Aye, Milady. The countess must be thinking it as well, but she is better at hiding her feelings.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “She is mistaken. Leland has been kind to me, but he does not care for me in that way and never shall.”
Aunt Edna looked deep in thought. “I see.”
“In truth,” Fiona went on. “Lady Sibeal has the advantage. She’s young, beautiful and from a respected Órlaithan family. She would be a wise match and give him greater influence on the council.”
The widow nodded. “Aye, perhaps, but is she the perfect match God has in mind for him? I assure you, Leland will accept no less, even if a marriage to Lady Sibeal would sway the nobles in his favor. ‘Tis simply not the type of man he is.”
Fiona nodded, realizing the widow spoke the truth and for the rest of the morning they spoke of lighter things. However, their discussion of Lady Sibeal remained in her thoughts. She disliked having enemies. If only she could find a way to convince the young lady she had no interest toward Leland…or at least had no intention of acting on it.
After their meal, Aunt Edna turned to Clare and bent down to her level. “So, my dear, what do you say we do a little exploring today? What would you like to see first—the chickens or the goats?”
Clare’s face lit up. “Chickens!”
As they headed out the cottage door and into the morning sunrise, Fiona couldn’t help smiling. She watched her daughter skipping away with their host toward the little coop with a thatched roof similar to the cottage. After such a long journey south, it was a rewarding sight to see Clare be able to run freely around the cottage. It gave her hope. Perhaps they’d found the peaceful refuge they had been searching for.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Heirs and Pawns
Lady Sibeal glanced in the mirror one last time, inspecting her carefully pinned golden locks, tucking one loose strand into place. Then she left her room and followed the long corridor to her father’s study. When Sibeal reached the double doors, she paused for a moment as the servant announced her arrival.
“Enter,” her mother called and the servant opened the doors. She approached a large desk her parents were sitting behind. Her mother was in the process of writing a few documents and then steadying her father’s hand so he could sign them.
Sibeal’s heart ached seeing his how his health continued to deteriorate. Over the past two years she had observed his hair turn from blond with gray at the temples to almost completely white. His straight and strong posture had become curved and frail. The stress of war and the pressure of being the regent of Órlaith had taken their toll on him.
He looked up and gave her a bright smile, but his green eyes looked tired. “Good morning, Daughter.”
“Morning, Father.” She moved to the side of the desk and kissed his cheek.
Her mother continued with the documents and didn’t look up to smile or greet her. “Sit,” she demanded and Sibeal obeyed, although her heart pounded wildly in her chest.”
“Mother, I know you’re disappointed, but…”
The countess shushed her to silence while she continued to look down at her documents, holding a quill between her elegant fingers. “We’ve already been over this, Daughter. Your behavior the morning of the earl’s departure was unacceptable. Refusing to come down for breakfast s
imply because he arrived with another lady on his arm is the behavior of a juvenile.” She paused for a moment while dipping her quill into the bottle of ink and helping her father sign another document. Then she went on without skipping a beat. “However, we must put that behind us. Now is the time to redeem your mistakes.”
Sibeal’s temper flared. “That woman ruined everything and Leland seems completely taken with her and the little girl. It was supposed to be my night to make a good impression and she humiliated me!”
Fire sparked in her mother’s eyes. “Put your pride aside. Do you not see what is at stake? The Earl of Kiely is our family’s only chance to inherit the throne. The people will never choose your father to be king. He is too frail. You heard the physician say he will not likely see another summer.”
Angry tears clouded Sibeal’s vision as she glared at her mother. “Do not speak as though Father is not present.”
“Be calm, Daughter,” her father said in a low voice. “We both know your mother speaks the truth. I am at peace with it. Please listen to what she has to say.” Like usual, her father’s calm words defused the brewing argument before either of them went too far.
Her mother took a deep breath and the fire faded from her eyes. “The point I was trying to make is, you mustn’t give up so easily.”
“The Earl of Kiely does not care for me, Mother.”
“Then find a way to make him care!”
“Are you asking me to pursue him? ‘Tis unladylike to do so. I will be looked down upon. You know this.”
“Aye, but a lady must take extreme measures during times such as these.”
She looked up at her father, eyes pleading for him to save her, but he could only give her a knowing smile. He no longer had the strength to argue with her mother. Once she set her mind to something, they all had to give in and do her bidding.
Lady Fiona's Refuge (Ladies of Ardena Book 3) Page 7
