“I will try my best,” Sibeal murmured and watched her mother place her quill in the stand. “Is that all you wished to speak with me about?”
She nodded while melting some wax and stamping an official seal on the document before her. “Aye, you are dismissed.”
She frowned at her mother’s rude behavior and stood to go, but her father lifted his hand to stop her. “I am feeling weary, Sibeal. Will you help me back to my chambers for my afternoon nap?”
Her eyes softened. “Of course, Father.”
A few moments later, they were outside the study, away from the cold stare of her mother. She held her father’s free arm as he used his cane to navigate the hallway leading to his chambers. “I apologize for your mother’s behavior. Behind her smile of stone, she really does love you, Sibeal.”
Her jaw clenched. “She has odd ways of showing love. All she seems to care about is who I will wed, not if I will find happiness in the match.”
He let out a weary sigh. “I know it does seem that way, but remember, your mother didn’t use to be this way. The Battle of Órlaith changed her. It changed all of us really. While there used to be many choices for proper suitors, now they are scarce. She is doing this to ensure your future.”
Sibeal wanted to argue with his statement, but held her tongue. She believed her mother’s thirst for power was her primary motivation for pushing a betrothal between her and Leland. However, she didn’t wish to bring further strain on her poor father. He had enough to worry about. Instead she nodded and patted his arm. “I know, Father. I simply wish she would stop pushing the betrothal so hard.”
“Aye,” he agreed. “I wish the same. If we lived in different times, I would rather have you remain with us for a few more years. I have to confess, the thought of losing you grieves my heart.”
She nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder and held his arm a little tighter. “Me too. I do not wish to leave you, especially during trying times like these.”
He released a shaky breath. “At least Leland is an honorable man. I have known him since he was a child and could think of no better match for you.”
She pursed her lips as they turned a corner. “Aye, but he seems to have no interest in me.”
“He just hasn’t had time to speak to you since you’ve come of age. Perhaps he still sees you as a child. Show him this isn’t so.”
Her eyes widened. “You wish me to pursue him like Mother?”
He shrugged. “Perhaps, but in a more subtle manner. We must find you an excuse to see him.”
She nodded, beginning to understand as the servants opened the double doors to the royal chambers. “An excuse?”
“Aye, Daughter. Don’t fret over it. I will think of something.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Deep Waters
Leland spent two days making small repairs to his cottage. One of Lord Dawley’s men had checked on it from time to time, but there were still signs of neglect from his prolonged absence. Today he patched holes in the thatched roof.
It was bittersweet returning to the home of his birth. His mother had been a countess, but married his father who was below her station. Yet, she didn’t mind living a simple life in the mountains. They built a happy and simple life together and about a year after their marriage, Leland was born. His father was killed fourteen years later in battle, a few months before Isla came into the world.
He recalled how hard his mother worked—sweeping the floor, sewing their clothes and cooking while staying attentive to his baby sister after she was born. He became the man of the house and made the necessary sacrifices to help his family survive. Because of the heavy responsibility, he never thought of marrying or starting a family of his own. It was his duty to protect his mother and sister. However, now with his mother gone and his sister away in Daireann, there was an empty void in the cottage which used to feel like home.
The news the Earl of Aoife told him still weighed heavy on his heart. The people wanted him to be their king. It was a great honor, yet Leland felt sick in his heart. His people needed him to lead them, but in exchange he had to steal the throne from his cousin.
Somehow, he had to find Tristan and soon, or he would have no choice but to take the position to prevent the responsibility from falling into the wrong hands.
After finishing the repairs on the roof, Leland climbed down and headed to the stream to wash his face. He paused and watched the water rippling over the stones, knowing if he followed the stream it would take him straight to Fiona and Clare, but he couldn’t go see them yet.
He recalled the way she’d looked into his eyes a few days before when she called him by his first name. It was such a small gesture, but meant everything to him. It was why he used her first name as well. Yet it had all been folly. He couldn’t allow himself to be anything but her friend and protector. Princesses rarely married lowly earls and he would not pursue a relationship that would only lead to heartbreak for both of them.
A rustling sound in the woods caught his attention. His heart thundered, seeing a hint of rose fabric through the trees. Then Lady Sibeal emerged on the other side of the stream and lowered her hood. “Good afternoon, Milord.”
He struggled to hide his disappointment and managed a slight bow. “Same to you, Lady Sibeal. To whom do I owe the pleasure of your company today?”
“My father sent me to inform you of the council meeting in a fortnight.”
“Thank you, Milady. I will be sure to attend.” He paused and glanced into the woods. “Do you not travel with escorts?”
Sibeal shrugged with a mischievous grin. “I requested they stay by the carriage. Even a lady should have the freedom of taking a stroll through the woods without being smothered by guards, am I correct, Milord?” She made her way across the rocks in the shallow water, lifting the hem of her skirt to keep it dry. After reaching his side of stream until she stopped mere inches from him.
He chuckled softly and stepped back to add space between them. “Aye, I suppose. Just promise to be careful on your way back.”
“Perhaps you would escort me back to the carriage. Then you could spare yourself worrying about my safe return.”
Leland released a deep sigh, knowing he had been cornered, but offered his preferred arm regardless of his discomfort. “It would be an honor, Lady Sibeal. Lead the way.”
After putting her daughter down for an afternoon nap, Fiona picked up the basket of dirty clothes, determined to be useful. She went outside and sat them by the washtub.
During several trips back and forth from the stream to collect water, Fiona thought about her time in Kiely thus far. She enjoyed staying with Widow Delaney. In the few short days she had been at the cottage, the older woman had taught her how to tend the garden, wash clothes and cook simple meals. As a princess she had never learned such things, but Fiona enjoyed learning them now.
Clare flourished at the cottage as well. She loved feeding the chickens, petting the goats and chasing butterflies near the gardens. It was a blessing to see her daughter so happy.
Only one thing troubled Fiona—Leland’s absence. She had hardly caught sight of him since coming to stay at the cottage. He came by once to chop some firewood for Widow Delaney while she had been busy putting Clare down for an afternoon nap. When she came outside to greet him, he offered a simple greeting and then departed, saying there was much work to tend to on his property. Fiona understood his reasons. He had been away from home for several years and many repairs were needed. However, she couldn’t shake the feeling he was avoiding her.
Fiona went back to the stream for one last bucket of water when she saw movement in the woods. Her heart skipped a beat when Leland came into view, but he wasn’t alone. A beautiful blonde walked by his side with her arm linked through his. She managed a smile to mask her surprise as they drew closer.
Leland unlinked arms with Lady Sibeal when he saw Fiona and rubbed his chin for a moment. “Good day, Lady Meara. I do hope you and Clare are adjusting
well here at the cottage.”
Fiona nodded. “Aye, Milord. We are enjoying the peace and quiet. “Clare is napping at the moment.”
“I am glad to hear it.”
“As am I.” Lady Sibeal smiled in her direction, but her gaze was still sharp like a razor. “Mother and Father will be happy to hear you are adjusting well. I came to invite Leland to the castle in a fortnight for a council meeting and dinner. I hope you’ll accept my apology. We would have loved to host you and your daughter as well, but it is a gathering for only the nobility.”
“Of course,” Fiona agreed with a forced smile. “Such a gathering would be inappropriate for us to attend. Perhaps another time.”
“Aye, that would be lovely.” The countess craned her elegant neck to look at Leland. “Shall we be on our way, Milord? If we tarry too much longer, I fear my escorts will come searching for me.”
“Aye, Milady. We would not want to worry them. He turned to Fiona again with a guilty look in his eyes. “It was a pleasure meeting with you, Lady Meara. Please inform Aunt Edna I will stop by later to help with the bales of hay.”
Fiona nodded in agreement and then watched the pair link arms again and head in the direction of the road. She had tried her best to be pleasant around the countess, but something about her icy glare rubbed Fiona the wrong way. She behaved similar to one of the broody hens in Aunt Edna’s chicken coop. The elderly woman told her the little golden hen was the most ill-tempered bird in the flock. She constantly growled and squawked at her sisters, even chasing the more timid chickens out of the coop. However, when the widow and Clare went to check on the hen’s brood the day before, she didn’t have a single egg in her nest. The hen had been brooding for days, over nothing.
Fiona shook her head as Leland and Lady Sibeal disappeared from sight, trying to keep her mind off the countess’s rude behavior. She had no intention of stealing Leland from her—if there was even something to steal in the first place. He didn’t appear interested in a betrothal to the countess at all.
She returned to the basket of clothes with the final bucket of water. However, she only made it through half a dozen garments before having to stop. Fiona pinned up the washed clothes and then decided to go for a stroll. Leland had told her about a small waterfall located halfway to his cottage.
She followed the stream for a while, listening as the sound of rushing water grew louder. All the way, her thoughts grew more sporadic. Why did seeing Lady Sibeal with Leland bother her so when he seemed to have little interest in the countess? Then it hit her. Nobles didn’t always marry for love. They often married for political reasons. If what Aunt Edna said was true about Lady Kyna and her daughter, they would try to push Leland into a marriage. It would help both Leland and Lady Sibeal gain power politically. She believed the widow that he was waiting for the woman God intended for him, but under pressure, would he settle? Fiona’s heart ached at the thought of Leland being forced into a marriage he didn’t want.
Soon, she reached the waterfall, the beauty of it taking her breath away. The water from above fell into a large oval pool surrounded by wildflowers and flowed into a small stream snaking through the trees. Fiona couldn’t help bending down to gather some for Clare and Widow Delaney. They would look lovely in a vase on her friend’s table. Before long, she had gathered a large bouquet of golden, lavender and magenta flowers to take back to the cottage.
Fiona started to turn back, remembering her daughter would be waking from her nap soon, but tripped over a hidden rock, making her right ankle twist an odd direction. Pain rippled through her foot, but her cries were drowned out by the waterfall. She stumbled forward and braced herself against a nearby tree and something crunched beneath her feet.
After catching her breath Fiona limped the short distance to the pool’s edge. She sat down with a grimace and put the bouquet aside before removing her right shoe to inspect the injury. Her ankle was red and tender to the touch. She shook her head at her carelessness while removing her other shoe. Then she dipped both feet into the cool water. Fiona closed her eyes for a few moments and leaned back as the pain lessened in her right foot. Perhaps if she kept her injured foot submerged in the pool for a few minutes it would prevent further swelling.
Then she heard it—buzzing.
Fiona’s eyes flew open as something pricked her arm and then the side of her neck. A swarm of bees had surrounded her while her eyes were closed. She screamed and pushed herself back from the pool, seeing the crushed hive at the base of the tree in the process. After tripping, she must have stepped on it somehow. She stood and glanced across the pool, looking for help, but another sting between her shoulder blades sent her into a panic. She tried to escape, only to trip over a large stone. The cold water from the pool shocked her senses and then a sharp pain radiated through her head as she sunk under the current.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Hidden Scars
After escorting Lady Sibeal to her carriage by the road, Leland followed the stream toward his cottage again with Artair close behind. The countess was beautiful and refined—the portrait of what a lady should be. Many noblemen in Kiely would envy the attention he received from the fair maiden. Yet his heart lightened the moment he was free of her.
He passed Aunt Edna’s home after observing no activity outside and continued walking beside the stream, attempting to sort out his thoughts. When Artair let out a small whine and wagged his tail, Leland saw Niall approaching from the woods. He smiled as he caught up and walked beside him. “Good afternoon, my friend.”
“‘Tis a good afternoon indeed—especially for you—having the opportunity to escort the countess to her carriage.”
Leland ran his fingers through his dark hair and pursed his lips. “You saw that, aye?”
Niall nodded with an impish grin. “Not much passes my notice when I am scouting the perimeter. She is one of the fairest I’ve ever seen. Is the betrothal arranged yet?”
He shook his head. “No, we would be ill suited. I will tell her tomorrow after the council meeting before this goes any further.”
“You are a brave man, turning down Countess Dawley’s daughter. Her wrath scares me more than an arrow aimed at my chest.”
Leland laughed as they continued along. “I fear you have a good point, my friend. I will do my best to let her down gently.”
His friend nodded, chuckling with him, but then sobered. “I need to speak with you about what I saw near Aoife. I do not believe the attack on my company was a fluke. There are still soldiers occupying the city.”
Leland looked at his face with concern. “Do you believe they are coming here?”
“I’m not certain, my friend, but it wouldn’t hurt to double up on security measures.”
“I agree.”
Soon he heard the familiar noise of rushing water from the waterfall ahead. The landmark was one of his favorite sights along the way to his cottage and he looked forward to seeing it. However, Artair started to whine and sniff the ground erratically.
“What is it, boy?” He followed the dog at a faster pace until they reached the pool below the falls. While peering over the side, he felt a sting on his arm and noticed a swarm of bees, but most of them were heading away from him.
“Look,” Niall said when he caught up. His friend pointed toward a bouquet of flowers, scattered by the water.
He rotated in a circle, raking his fingers through his hair while studying his surroundings. “Someone was here, only moments ago. I see fresh footprints.”
His friend nodded and followed the prints. “Aye, they go away from the water and then toward it again.”
Leland’s heart raced as he looked down at the pool again, catching a hint of burgundy fabric submerged in the water. Leland dove in without a second thought. He grabbed onto Fiona’s waist and pulled her toward the surface. Niall was there to help pull her out when they emerged.
Sputtering for breath, Leland crawled out of the water and over to Fiona’s limp body in Niall’s ar
ms. His heart skipped a beat seeing her pale skin, blue lips and a few large welts on her face and arms from the bee stings. “Can…can you save her?”
Niall leaned his ear close to her mouth and listened. “I don’t believe she’s breathing, but I can try.”
“Aye, please do everything you can.” Leland watched helplessly as Niall turned Fiona onto her side and started patting her back. Then he forced himself into a standing position and paced back and forth. Tiernay had entrusted him with his sister’s safety and he’d failed. What would become of Clare now? She’d be an orphan. He couldn’t bear to think of it.
He had almost lost all hope when Fiona’s torso lurched forward and water bubbled out of her mouth. Niall continued to pat her back until she began breathing normally.
“Praise God!” Leland shouted and fell to his knees, overcome.
Leland paced in front of Aunt Edna’s cottage. He held Clare in his arms while waiting for Niall to come back out with news of Fiona’s condition. After a long evening of crying and asking to see her mama, the little girl had finally fallen asleep with the promise her mother would be fine. The promise had been sincere, yet as the night fell and Fiona still had yet to wake up, fear began to take hold.
A few moments later, Aunt Edna emerged from the cottage with a grieved expression. Leland ceased pacing and met her gaze. “Has there been any change?”
She shook her head and hugged him. “Not yet, but the physician and I have done everything we can to make her comfortable.” She leaned back and looked into his eyes. “He would like to speak with you about something.” She reached for Clare. “Here, I will take care of this wee lamb.”
Leland allowed her to take the little girl and then ducked through the low door of the cottage. He headed down the hall and entered the first bedroom on the right.
Lady Fiona's Refuge (Ladies of Ardena Book 3) Page 8
