Lady Fiona's Refuge (Ladies of Ardena Book 3)

by Rachel Skatvold

  Leland continued gazing over his beautiful kingdom, painted in the hues of autumn when he caught sight of a woman walking through the courtyard. When the sunlight brought crimson tones in her braided hair, he knew her identity in an instant.

  He rushed down the terrace stairs, passed under an arch and took a shortcut through the hedges, coming face to face with her before she reached the rosebushes.

  She stumbled back with one hand over her mouth in surprise. “Leland, you startled me!”

  He chuckled like a young boy. “I apologize. Seeing your face was like a breath of fresh air. I couldn’t risk you disappearing from my sight. What are you doing here?”

  She released a nervous laugh. “Lady Sibeal invited me to be her honored guest at the coronation ball. She even offered to have her seamstress make me a custom gown for the event. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Leland’s smile faded for a moment. Had Lady Sibeal invited Fiona out of kindness, or did she have an ulterior motive for doing so? Noticing the concern in her eyes he decided to keep the suspicion to himself for the time being. “I don’t mind in the least,” he reassured. “I wanted you to attend the ball as well, but my concern for your safety prevented me from considering it. However, since you were invited by the countess, I suppose it would be rude to refuse.”

  “Aye,” Fiona agreed, glancing up at the fortress. “I suppose I better hurry up. She is waiting for me.”

  Leland nodded, but looked around before pulling her into his embrace. “She can wait a few more moments,” he whispered before leaning down to kiss her lips. He had been absent for so many weeks, he had missed the feeling of her in his arms and the smell of rosewater in her hair. As she relaxed into his arms and kissed him back, all Leland’s stress melted away.

  After a few moments Fiona leaned back to catch her breath, but Leland pulled her close again, resting his forehead against hers. “Soon, we’ll no longer have to hide,” he whispered. “You will be my queen and everyone will know. They will love you as much as I do.”

  “I have to go,” she whispered while pulling away. “See you soon, my love.” Her hand slipped from his and he watched his betrothed disappear around a bend in the path.

  “She’s so perfect, I can hardly stand it!” Sibeal shouted after Fiona’s last fitting with her personal seamstress. “How can I betray someone who has been so kind to me?”

  Her mother stepped forward and gripped her shoulders. “Daughter, we are so close to winning everything we’ve ever dreamed of. Princess Fiona and her daughter are the only obstacles remaining in our way. Do not lose your resolve now.”

  Sibeal nodded with a pounding heart. “Please forgive me. I just long for the day when this will all be over.”

  Her mother smiled. “I do as well. You do understand I only care about your happiness?”

  She sighed. “Aye, you’ve always had my best interests at heart.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Coronation

  Leland spent the morning confined to his room, kneeling in prayer. God, I still don’t feel worthy to be king. I never wanted this—never sought for power. However, I believe you have brought this responsibility to me for a purpose. Guide me to become the king you intend for me to be.

  An hour later, after donning his coronation robe, he strode through the great hall. The entire room, crowded with the people of Kiely and Órlaith bowed upon his arrival. He spotted Lady Fiona near the front wearing the stunning burgundy gown Lady Sibeal’s seamstress had made for her. They exchanged a brief smile before he ascended the stairs to the platform. He wanted her to be sitting beside him, coronated as his queen, but that would have to wait until they were married. They had been patient up to this point and he was certain of two things. She was a precious gift from God and had been well worth the wait.

  Leland knelt at the altar while the priest said a blessing. Then he placed the crown on his head and handed him the scepter. It all felt like a dream as he stood and took his place on the throne—the first Kielyan king to sit there in five generations. Leland was uncertain why God had chosen him for the responsibility, but as the crowd shouted, “Long live the King! Long live the King!” he vowed to follow God’s leading in everything and to protect his people until his dying breath.

  Fiona watched Leland from a distance as the coronation ball commenced. There had been many celebrations since the beginning of her brother’s rule. However, she usually found excuses not to attend. Tonight was a different story. There was much to celebrate and too much joy in her heart to contain it.

  She continued to watch the new Kielyan King as he weaved through the crowd. Several noblewomen asked him to dance, yet he refused each one until standing before her with a twinkle in his eye and extending his hand. “Milady, will you do me the honor of sharing the first dance of the evening?”

  She blushed while allowing her hand to slip into his. “The honor is all mine, Your Majesty.”

  Leland swept her into the middle of the dance floor. At first, she could sense all of the eyes in the room on her, but within a few moments she no longer cared. It was just her and Leland—the man whom she’d loved for two years, yet never felt worthy of. Everything had changed, but in some ways nothing at all. Leland was still the same humble man as before, even with a crown on his head. Somehow, she knew the power would never change or corrupt him.

  He held her hand and tightened his grip on her waist. “I have something special to tell you.”

  She smiled up at him, completely lost in the moment. “And what is that, my love?”

  “I received a letter from your brother just this morning. He has not only given his blessing on our marriage, but assured me we are now safe to make our engagement known.”

  Happy tears welled in her eyes “Truly? The danger has passed?”

  He caressed her cheek with his fingers. “Aye, my beautiful Fiona. If you do not object, I will announce you are the queen I have chosen to rule by my side this very night.”

  She smiled up at him. “I do not object in the least.”

  Sibeal smoothed the golden fabric of her ball gown, watching Leland dance with Fiona. The sight stabbed into her wounded heart, but she couldn’t help noticing how happy they looked together. She had never wished ill of him, even if he didn’t choose her.

  As more nobles and their wives joined their new king on the dance floor, Sibeal met her mother’s eyes from nearby. Her stern look forced her to rein in her emotions. She was expected to be a proper lady at all times, which meant no gloomy face or pouty lip. She had to remain poised and proper—a well-bred lady.

  “May I have this dance, Milady?” a deep voice asked.

  Sibeal looked up into the hazel eyes of Niall the physician and her lips curved into a half smile. “You certainly may, Milord.” She placed her elegant hand in his larger one and allowed him to lead her onto the floor in the middle of the other dancing couples.

  Halfway through the song, she caught her mother’s stern gaze. Although Niall was highly respected in the village for his healing abilities, he was still a commoner and her mother only saw him as such.

  For a moment, Lady Sibeal thought of politely ending the dance and walking away, but her rebellious side wouldn’t allow it. For several years, her mother had ingrained the idea into her head she would be Leland’s queen and in a short amount of time, all of those plans had been shattered. The handsome, young physician provided a welcome distraction she was in no hurry to be rid of.

  A while later, the dance ended when the new king ascended the platform, saying he had an announcement to make. Sibeal stood rooted to the floor, observing he wasn’t alone. He kissed the hand of the lady standing beside him, face glowing with happiness. “Forgive me. I know this kingdom has had her share of excitement for one day,” Leland said. “However, I am pleased to introduce you to the future Queen Consort of Kiely, Princess Fiona of Brannagh.”

  Sibeal looked around the room in a dull haze, gauging everyone’s reactions. All the nobles were sh
ocked to silence for a moment. Then to her dismay, the entire room erupted into cheers. She was the niece of the late King Malcolm—their enemy—yet they cheered?

  Niall gripped her hand and when she looked up into his kind hazel eyes, her anger diminished. Things hadn’t gone as expected, but perhaps there were new opportunities on the horizon.

  For Fiona the evening flew by as if it was a wonderful dream. After the announcement of their betrothal, things became more stressful, but she didn’t mind. She had never felt more honored to be by Leland’s side as his future queen.

  After an entire day of celebrating, the guests finally left. As the sun began falling lower in the horizon, Leland offered to escort her back to Aunt Edna’s cottage for the night and she accepted.

  Inside the carriage, Leland reached for her hand and kissed it. “After this night, I would like you and Clare to move into the castle. You will have your own separate wing, maids and servants until our wedding day. It will be the safest option now that everyone knows of our betrothal and your true identity.”

  Fiona nodded as happiness filled her, but her joy was soon mixed with sorrow. “I will tell Aunt Edna tonight. We have grown so close in the past months, it pains me greatly to think of leaving the cottage, but I know this is for the best. I’m not as scared of change as I used to be. God is teaching me to trust His plan and purpose for my life more and more each day. I am blessed his plan included bringing you into my life.”

  He wiped a stray tear off her cheek. “As am I, my love. You and Clare have brought my heart such joy.”

  Fiona kissed him before releasing a happy sigh and resting her head against his chest. She could listen to his calming, steady heartbeat all day. Life would change dramatically for them after they wed, but the change would be a good one. Clare would finally have a father and she would spend a happy life with the man she loved.

  When they arrived back at the cottage, the land was bathed in an array of colors from the sunset. Fiona’s heart sang as she came out of the carriage, twirling in the clearing with her hands stretched out. After a full day of celebrations and dancing, she thought she’d be exhausted, but the beautiful colors seemed to energize her soul.

  “What are you doing?” Leland asked with a chuckle as he and Artair watched her from a distance.

  “What does it look like?” she laughed while continuing to twirl. Artair let out an excited bark and ran toward her, leaping around in a circle like a puppy would.

  Soon, Leland joined them and wrapped his hands around her waist as they twirled together, laughing along with her. When they stopped, he cupped her cheek in his palm. “I cannot wait to spend the rest of my days with you beside me as queen.”

  “Me too.”

  They shared a long passionate kiss before heading up the pathway to the cottage, hand in hand. Their joyous mood remained until the cottage came into view. Near the garden, one of the guards Leland sent to protect Fiona and Clare, lay motionless on the ground.

  Leland exchanged a brief look with Fiona before rushing forward to check the man for signs of life. However, she could tell from his grave expression the guard was dead. She followed Leland up the path between the gardens further with a pounding heart. Then they saw a second deceased guard by the open door to the cottage.

  In a haze, Fiona scrambled past the dead guard and into the cottage screaming for her daughter and Aunt Edna. Leland soon joined her and they found Aunt Edna in her bed chamber, tied up and gagged.

  “They’ve taken her!” the older woman cried when they removed her gag. “They took the dear little lamb. I’m so sorry. There was nothing I could do!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Desperate Measures

  Aunt Edna was a complete mess that evening, although unharmed. While Leland prepared her a cup of hot tea, Fiona retreated to her bedroom. Once behind closed doors, she sat by Clare’s cot weeping. Who would have taken her little girl? It wasn’t until a few minutes later when she crawled into bed, ready to cry herself to sleep, she noticed the letter on her nightstand. She unfolded it, scarcely able to breathe.

  Meet us at Carraig Capall tomorrow morning at sunrise and prepare to honor your arrangement to wed our commander, King Fergus. Come alone and do not inform anyone where you are going. If you wish to see your daughter again, you must do exactly as we say. Destroy this letter after reading it.

  Tears dripped from her cheek and onto the parchment, blurring the words. Somehow Fergus’ men had found them. She tossed the letter into the flames—watching it turn into ash just before Leland entered the room. Then rushed into his embrace, sobbing. “Oh, Leland, what are we going to do?”

  He held her close and smoothed back her hair. “We’ll think of something, my love. We’ll get her back. I promise.”

  Fiona kept the letter secret, knowing Clare’s life depended on her silence. She couldn’t tell him the truth—the horrible truth that she had to break their betrothal to marry a man she didn’t love. Instead, she asked Leland to stay with her until she fell asleep.

  After she crawled underneath the sheets, he pulled the blanket up and tucked her in. Then he kissed her forehead before saying a prayer for Clare. Fiona wept even after the prayer was over. Leland sat in a chair by her bed and whispered words of comfort while holding her hand. He had no idea her pain was rooted much deeper than losing her daughter. In the morning she would lose him as well. How could she leave the man she loved without saying farewell? It would break his heart, yet she had no choice.

  Eventually, a few hours before the dawn she quieted and pretended to sleep until hearing Leland’s slow even breathing. She peeked at him through one eyelid to make sure he was asleep. Then she carefully slipped from the bed, pausing to remake it with the pillows arranged to make it appear she still slept under the covers.

  After penning a letter and gathering a few items for her journey, Fiona brushed her lips against Leland’s temple. He stirred briefly, mumbling something incoherent before turning his head away from her and falling back to sleep. He was just as exhausted as her, after the coronation. Fiona stifled a sob and whispered the words she dreaded. “Farewell…my love.”

  Leland woke up startled as a hint of sunrise filtered through the curtains in Fiona’s room. She had been crying for most of the night—but now she was still and quiet—too quiet. “Fiona?” he whispered in the dim light, reaching for her shoulder. “Are you all right?” His hand only touched a pillow under the blanket. Leland threw back the covers with a gasp. Then he rushed out to the kitchen where Aunt Edna was busy preparing something hot to drink. “Have you seen Fiona?”

  The older woman’s eyes widened. “No, my boy. I thought she was still sleeping in her room.”

  “She’s gone.” Leland’s eyes darted around the room frantically, searching for any sign she may have been taken. It was no use. There was no evidence of a struggle and Aunt Edna hadn’t heard anything. He ran back to her bedroom in a panic and looked to see if anything was out of place. After noticing her shoes and cape were missing by the door, he opened her wardrobe. Her traveling clothes were gone, along with her satchel and the sling she used to carry Clare.

  When he turned back toward the bed, he spied a folded letter on the nightstand with his name printed neatly on the front in Fiona’s handwriting. He crossed the room and unfolded it with trembling fingers.

  Leland, my dearest love,

  I’ve gone to find Clare, but I fear we shall never meet again. I must break our betrothal. ‘Tis hard to explain why, but please understand my heart fills with grief leaving you in this way. I hope one day you will find it in your heart to forgive me and find contentment with another. The months we spent together were the happiest of my life. I will cherish them for the rest of my days.

  Love, Fiona

  Leland raked his fingers through his hair as a lump rose in his throat. She’d gone to find her daughter all alone and called off their betrothal, but why? He covered his mouth to stifle his sob of anguish and closed his eyes. Oh, God
, please protect Fiona and Clare. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have let my guard down. Help me find them.

  When Leland opened his eyes, a fleeting thought entered his mind—a thought that brought him a glimmer of hope. He rushed out of the cottage, offering a brief explanation to Aunt Edna on the way.

  He mounted his horse and galloped out of the woods and through the village as the animal could take him with his guards struggling to keep up. Thoughts of Fiona and Clare raced through his mind. They had come so close to becoming a family and he refused to let their dream be ripped away.

  When Leland reached the castle, he didn’t slow down until finding Sibeal sitting in the courtyard sharing a morning stroll with Niall. Her eyes grew wide as he approached. “Leland, what’s wrong?”

  “Lady Sibeal, the worst thing imaginable has happened. You may be the only person who can help.”

  Lady Sibeal paced outside her mother’s study several minutes before finally gathering enough courage to enter. She sat at her desk, penning a letter. “We need to talk, Mother.” She tried to keep the tremble out of her voice, but failed.

  She barely acknowledged Sibeal, continuing to stare down at the letter. “I’m busy at the moment. Can this not wait until later?”

  Sibeal seethed under her breath, tired of being treated like a pest who needed to be squashed. “No, Mother, it cannot wait another second. “Are you behind the disappearance of Lady Fiona’s daughter?”

  Her mother looked up then, a stern expression on her face. “I believe you already know the answer to that question, Daughter. I said I had a plan in place to make you a queen. This is part of that plan.”