’Twas Garrick’s turn to be stunned. “Rolf’s… sister?”
“Aye, and my cousin,” Dristan replied, taking the woman’s hand and placing it in the crook of his elbow. “She has come to stay with us and will be under my protection.”
“My lady,” Garrick bowed once again. “’Tis a pleasure tae meet ye.”
“The pleasure is mine, Sir Garrick,” Coira replied, whilst she watched him intently.
Garrick felt his laird’s stare but did not correct the use of a title Garrick had no right to claim.
Dristan cleared his throat. “Well then, since the lady is unharmed, you may go back to your training, Garrick. I am sure Lady Coira is in need of rest after her long journey.” He waved to a nearby servant. “Head up to the keep, Lady Coira, where you shall be introduced to my wife. She will see you settled until we can meet later in my solar.”
Garrick watched her leave with Morgan, who draped his arm possessively around Coira’s waist. God’s Blood… she was his laird’s cousin and Rolf’s sister. Who would have thought a sister of Rolf’s could be so lovely?
“Stay away from her, Garrick. You are not good enough for her. She deserves better.”
Rolf’s voice came inside Garrick’s mind, startling him. Perfect! Now I am going tae have a ghost berating me for ogling his sister, Garrick mused. He heard Rolf’s laughter once again in his head.
“Until the end of your days,” the voice said.
He picked his sword up from the ground and began running back to the field with his laird. Mayhap if he trained hard enough, those sudden feelings for Coira would be driven out of his heart. At least he could try…
Chapter 5
The solar door swung open and her cousin filled the space with his presence. So many years had passed that Coira had all but forgotten how impressive Dristan had become. But the welcoming smile upon his face set most of her fears to rest.
“Cousin,” he said, opening his arms. “It has been far too long since our paths have crossed.”
She was enfolded into a fierce hug. “My Lord Dristan,” she murmured. “’Tis good to see you. Thank you for receiving me.”
“You can cease with any of that title business, Coira. We are family. As such, we need no formalities between us.”
“How are your mother and father?” she asked, wishing her own parents yet lived. He took her hand and ushered her to a seat by the fire.
“They are well, the last I heard from them.” He went to pour them a goblet of wine and Coira had the distinct feeling he did not wish to have speech about his parents.
“I pray you do not mind that I am here.”
“Mind? Why ever would I mind?”
Coira sipped her wine whilst she watched her cousin take a seat across from her. “Your poor relation coming to beg lodging from her rich cousin does not bother you? Generally this does not sit well with most people.”
“You are hardly poor and I am not like most people. If you would take a moment to recall, I sent Morgan to find you. Hence, you are welcome here.”
“You are too kind, Dristan,” she whispered in relief, taking another sip of her wine.
“I regret the years we have spent apart. We are family after all and I feel responsible for your welfare. I have plans for you and will make it a priority to find you a suitable husband.” He grinned as if he had already picked out the man she would wed.
Her wine almost spewed from her lips until she choked on the liquid instead. “A husband?”
“Aye! I have several noblemen in mind who would be adequate to provide a good life for you. I will ensure no one less than a knight presses their suit.”
“Adequate? Dristan I–”
“No need to thank me. I shall see to all the details and send runners to those whom I think will make a good match.” He drained his wine, stood, and came over to her side. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss upon her cheek. “’Tis good to see you, Coira. I will see you at the evening meal.”
Dristan left just as quickly as he arrived whilst Coira sat there stunned. A nunnery was looking more appealing than a life spent with some unknown man who would make only an adequate husband. However, nothing could be done immediately. She would let the matter rest for now.
* * *
After several days of learning her way around the castle and becoming comfortable with its many passages, Coira was at last able to pay her respects to her brother, although she should have made this a priority when she first arrived. Mayhap ’twas the thought of Rolf lying in a cold grave that kept her from visiting. She looked down upon the headstone, thankful his resting place was a peaceful one in the MacLaren family cemetery. He was buried in a place of honor. She could not ask for more from these pleasant strangers.
Coira placed a small bouquet of flowers at the base of Rolf’s headstone before she knelt upon the ground. Making the sign of the cross, she began to pray her brother’s soul found peace in the heavens above. Tales of his bravery when rescuing the Lady Lynet had torn at her heart. ’Twas just like Rolf to sacrifice himself in order to save another. She would have expected no less from her brother for whom she had the highest regard. He had always seemed larger than life and mayhap she should not have held him to such high esteem. Yet, how could she not? Rolf could never do wrong in her eyes, unless ’twas to tease her in their youth.
Rather than staying true to her prayers, her mind wandered. She remembered their childhood and the few times he had returned to visit her as she grew older. Though such occasions had been scarce, the years had always seemed to melt away with his appearance. Tears flowed down her cheeks at the thought of her brother dying alone somewhere north in the wilds of Scotland.
She glanced up, imagining she could sense his presence. “Rolf?” she whispered to the wind.
There was no answer, nor was there any sight of his ghostly form guarding her. Perchance those who had spoken of seeing him at Berwyck were but playing a cruel joke upon her. ’Twas not right someone would take advantage of her grief, but how else could she explain those who told her Rolf wandered Berwyck’s halls? Such tales gave her the smallest increment of hope he was somehow near, watching her. However, if he did indeed stand guard over the inhabitants of Berwyck, then his soul would be destined to remain here for all eternity. She would not wish such a penance on Rolf and preferred to think of him resting with God’s angels.
She began to cry in earnest and was so lost in her grief she was unaware when someone came from behind her and lifted her in his arms. She glanced up to see Morgan’s concern for her before she buried her face into his chest. Her shoulders shook in her sorrow at the loss of her most beloved brother.
“Shhh now, lovely Coira. Rolf would not wish for you to grieve so,” Morgan comforted, placing a kiss upon the top of her head. Raising her chin with his fingertips, he took his thumb and wiped at her tears falling down her cheeks.
She cried out at her loss. “I cannot help myself, Morgan. I just want to see my brother.”
“My darling girl, you shall not find him buried in the ground. Look to your heart, for this is where you shall find him. Your love for him will keep his memory alive for always. You shall meet him again after you have lived a long and happy life. Such a fate is what Rolf would have wished for you.”
“How can I go on without my brother, Morgan? I have no one close to me and now must needs depend on the generosity of a stranger who will make decisions about whom or when I shall marry.”
“Lord Dristan is your cousin…”
“Whom I have not seen in many a year,” she interjected with a frown.
“…and a fair lord, Coira,” Morgan finished. “His offer to help find a husband for you is well intended. I am most grateful for any assistance he may give.”
“As he did with the Lady Lynet?”
“You have heard her story?”
“Of course, I heard her story,” she fumed, lifting her chin high.
“Then you know her tale has ended well,” he replied, w
ith a confident smirk.
She ignored him and tossed her hair. “I also heard about the tournament where men competed to win her hand. Is this the fate you would wish for me, Morgan?” She scowled, trying her best to convey her horror at the thought of being treated in a similar manner. And yet, would not a nunnery be an even worse fate?
Morgan had the decency to look uncomfortable. “Those were different circumstances, Coira. You are hardly in the same position as the Lady Lynet. Do not be cross with me. My heart cannot stand such a beating,” he teased.
“I am not cross with you. I only feel as though I am but a pawn to be used at someone else’s whim and my feelings about whom I might choose will not be considered.”
“Such decisions are usually arranged for a woman. You know how these situations occur, but I give you my word I will not see you wed to some buffoon who is not worthy of you.”
“Thank you, Morgan.” She sniffled and rested her head upon his chest again whilst his arms once more held her close. Several minutes passed and Coira took what little comfort she found in his embrace.
Morgan whispered her name and she raised her head to stare upon him. He said not another word before leaning down to place a gentle kiss upon her lips. ’Twas not the kind of kiss that eventually would lead to future passionate encounters between them. Nay… this was but a simple kiss between two people who cared about one another as brother and sister. Nothing more… nothing less.
They broke apart, and Morgan gave her a sheepish grin. “Do not be long. I hear Lord Dristan and Lady Amiria have planned dancing for your entertainment tonight as their most honored guest.”
He left her alone so she could return to her prayers. Coira was sinking back to her knees when she noticed a lone man at the edge of the forest. There was no doubt in Coira’s mind the knight had just witnessed her kiss with Morgan. Such an encounter could be misconstrued, and the way the knight’s fists were clenched at his side hinted that he had jumped to the wrong conclusion. So did his upset expression when he pushed off the tree he had been leaning upon, took one step in her direction, and apparently changed his mind before hurrying into the woods.
Coira followed after him, knowing she would be safe in his company. What in the world must Sir Garrick think of her after what he had just witnessed? Especially if he had felt even the smallest measure of the emotions that had consumed her since they first met.
Chapter 6
He was the biggest fool in all of Christendom. Garrick stormed through the woods as though hell’s demons were fast on his heels. A low-lying limb from a tree slapped at his face, whacking his thick skull. He knocked the annoyance aside only for the stick to recoil and smack him once again in the back of his head. A growl of outrage ripped from his throat. He tore at the branch till it snapped in two. Cursing, he tossed it aside in his irritation to get as far away from Coira as possible.
He continued his hurried stride till he reached the edge of the forest and looked upon the beach. Mayhap, if he continued his walk along the shoreline, he would find the solace his soul was seeking. Or would he?
He would have a devil of a time whilst he attempted to erase the memory of her kissing another man, let alone how Morgan continuously held her close whenever they were together. Though brief, Garrick had shared such a pleasant encounter with the Lady Coira, he had foolishly hoped more might come of it. Garrick would admit, if only to himself, he had thought of little else since he had held Coira in his arms. She seemed to belong there, or mayhap he only imaged the feeling in the deepest recesses of his heart. No woman had ever had such an effect on him before now.
They may not have had much speech together, but if she were to be living here at Berwyck, certainly they would have plenty of time to get to know one another and perchance come to an agreement between them. He never thought she may have all ready been spoken for, but he should have known better. As Rolf’s sister, she would be expected to marry within her station and not to someone like him, a mere piper for the clan. He was no knight, as she had assumed. He had only been training with the other guardsmen as Dristan commanded.
A shriek rent the air and, without thought, Garrick began to run back through the forest. A woman’s scream for help continued to echo through the trees, causing him to hasten his stride. He knew not what type of danger the woman was facing but ’twas indeed dire, considering the high-pitched wail he approached by the second.
His sword drawn, Garrick was ready to meet whatever adversary he must to rescue the poor maiden. He came upon the view of slim shapely legs dangling from a tree whilst the woman attempted to secure her position in the safety of a sturdy oak. He looked around but saw nothing of concern.
“Sir Garrick! You have come to my rescue again,” Coira cried out, once she sat firmly on the branch and quickly rearranged her dress to cover herself. “I am so relieved to see you.”
Garrick returned his sword to the scabbard at his side. He gazed around for some unseen danger but once more saw nothing. “And just what am I rescuing ye from, my lady?” he asked. His brows crossed in confusion. Was Rolf’s sister daft, perchance?
“’Twas a hideous and vile thing…”
“What was?”
“…and huge!” she continued with a terrified look. “Surely you can see that for yourself? Please slay the beast with your sword.”
He leaned his palm upon the bark of the tree and looked up at her. She appeared scared, but she also never looked lovelier, at least in his eyes. “Lady Coira,” he began in a calm tone. “What exactly am I protecting ye from?”
Her eyes searched the ground around the bottom of the tree before she at last pointed behind her. “’Tis just there. Can you not see that monster of a snake?”
Garrick attempted not to laugh, drew his sword and began poking around the low shrubbery. He at last saw Coira’s monster slithering away, minding its own business. He picked up the snake with the tip of his blade before giving the reptile a toss to ease the lady’s mind.
Coira gave a sigh of relief. “You should have killed the beast so ’twould not harm another venturing in the woods,” she scolded.
“’Twas a harmless reptile, my lady. Besides, where else should a snake be living except in a forest? Ye are treading in their territory when ye venture tae take a walk amongst the trees. Truly, such a little animal would not have done ye harm.”
“Are you sure?”
“Aye, Lady Coira.”
A short snort followed by a muffled laugh had Garrick staring up at the lady perched above his head. “Well… if you are certain. I feel silly now for making such a fuss, but thank you for saving me again, Sir Knight.”
“’Tis a pleasure tae be of service tae ye once more, my lady,” Garrick said, again not correcting her assumption he had been knighted. He should do so whilst they had the rare opportunity of being alone. Still, he could not forget the earlier scene he had witnessed just a short time ago and mayhap ’twould do no harm to let her think on him favorably for a short while longer. “Let us see what we can do about getting ye out of the tree now, shall we?”
Coira began to scoot off the branch whilst attempting to keep her skirts in place. Garrick lifted his arms to catch her, but suddenly, Coira lost her grip on the tree. Another startled scream was torn from her lips as she began to fall.
Garrick once more captured the woman in his arms as they fell to the ground in a heap. In a repeat performance, he rolled to bear the brunt of the impact till she was captured beneath him. Hazel eyes stared at him in wonder, and his heart lurched in his chest.
“Sir Garrick…” His name passed her lips in a breathy whisper.
“Lady Coira…” he answered and, before common sense returned to him, he leaned down and placed his lips upon her own.
By God’s Bones, he must be mad, he thought even as her arms pressed their way over his shoulders and wrapped themselves around his neck. His mouth moved over hers gently for he did not wish to scare her. ’Twas an exploration… a first-time meetin
g of two souls as their breaths exchanged with one another. He was lost, till a low throaty moan escaped her and brought him back to the reality of what he was doing.
He broke off their kiss and jumped up as though he had been burned, which was not far from the truth. Bloody hell! If Coira were in truth Morgan’s lady, the knight would skewer him alive and see his head placed on a pike outside Berwyck’s gates for taking such a liberty. He would not think about what Lord Dristan would do to his remains, since the lady was also under his watchful eye.
He began cursing and pacing back and forth, till he realized he had left the lady of his musing lying on the hard ground. She had propped herself up on her elbows and was watching him intently. He came to her and held out his hand to help her rise. Her fingers slipped into his palm, and he once more forgot about everything else but the lady he pulled up to stand.
Her knees gave out, and she once more fell into his arms as they stumbled up against the very oak that began the downfall of his life as he knew it. Garrick reached out to steady them whilst her back pressed against the solid trunk. He clearly had no sense left in his head. He rested his arm above her head and stared down at the beautiful woman who was beginning to claim his heart.
“Coira…” he murmured. “’Tis a beautiful Gaelic name, but I am surprised an English woman is called such.”
“’Twas my mother’s doing. She told me years before she died that she and my father had travelled to Scotland, and she fell in love with the country and its people. She said I was a wonderful reminder of their time together.”
“Ye must miss them. I am sorry for their passing, as I am for yer brother’s.”
“I seem to be alone in the world now,” she answered softly. Garrick did not miss the small catch in her voice.
He reached out and ran the back of his finger along her cheek. “Ye are not completely alone, lass. Yer cousin will see tae yer needs,” he replied, and although he hated to say the next words, he knew he must. “Ye also have Morgan. ’Tis obvious he cares for you.”
The Piper’s Lady: The MacLarens (Book Three) Page 3
