by Amy Jarecki
She moaned and moved in his arms. A more beautiful creature could not exist. In slumber she embodied the meadow nymph dreaming in the morning’s sun. Mahogany tresses tangled around them both, her dark lashes shuttering those eyes he adored. Her lips slightly parted and she sighed. If only he could be there with her in such a soothing dream.
Sean hadn’t intended to take advantage of her. It had happened. She’d been right when she said their souls were meant to be together. He knew that now, but he couldn’t stand in the way of the progress she was making toward recovery. And then he had his uncle’s wedding hanging over his head. Though Lorn had the king’s approval, the neighboring clans would not be happy, especially the Campbells of Argyll. Gyllis’s sect, the Campbells of Glenorchy paid fealty to Argyll. Relations could become strained, even between Sean and Duncan. He hated feuds.
He’d need to wait until news of the wedding had passed, especially since he would be the one providing protection for the Lord of Lorn.
Gyllis cleared her throat and stirred.
Sean grinned. “Good morrow, my love.”
She rose up on her elbow and covered her mouth with a dainty hand. “Blessed be the stars. Last eve was real?”
He brushed away a lock of hair covering her eye. “Aye.” Kissing her forehead, he inhaled. In an instant he was hard again. “Every passionate moment was real, mo leannan.”
Snuggling into him, she slid her hand across his chest. He moaned with the tingling her deft fingers brought. “I wish we could remain in this bed forever. I cannot remember ever being so happy.”
“Aye, but time will nay stand still. I promised your brother I’d return you to Ardchattan before compline last eve.”
“Surely he will understand,” she said with a wee yawn. “No one could have traveled in that torrential rain.”
Sean twirled strands of her hair around his finger. No matter how much he wanted to lie abed with Gyllis in his arms, he needed to return her to the priory quickly. The weather had been a good excuse to have her spend the night at Dunollie, but to keep her after the weather cleared would be unacceptable. It could lead to the lass’s ruination. As it was, if word of their indiscretion were to become known, Duncan Campbell would be after Sean’s head. “We must make haste to return else there could be a scandal—even if everyone believes you slept in the lady’s chamber. One night due to the weather might be permissible, but if we delay, a scandal will erupt for certain.”
She flopped onto her back. “Ugh. I’ve been imprisoned in that tiny cell for so long, I’d forgotten how wonderful things could be outside.”
“Aye, though you have come so far, you must continue your treatment. Why, you’re so strong, I wouldn’t be surprised to see you make a full recovery.”
She clapped her hands over her face. “I’d be too embarrassed to have anyone other than you see me.”
“Why? You are beautiful.”
“I am a cripple. For some reason, you have chosen to see beyond that, but in society I will be seen as a monster.”
“I don’t think anyone could believe that.”
She chuckled. “Sometimes I wonder if you are not blind. You’ve been to the fetes, people treat cripples like lepers.”
Sean clenched his jaw. “If anyone dare taunt you, they’d have to answer to me.”
She rolled to her side and again draped her arm across his chest. “If only I could stay in this bed forever. Then every night you would return, and one day the witch who cursed me with this illness would be satisfied with my unbounded dedication to you and cure me.”
“You read too many fantastical tales.” He lifted her chin and kissed her lips. “I shall take you back to Ardchattan. I have a duty to perform for my uncle. After things have settled, I will gain an audience with your brother and ask for your hand.”
Gyllis didn’t seem to pay attention to the duty part, for her face beamed. “Do you mean that, Sean? I will become the lady of your keep?”
“I can think of no other woman more perfect for the role.”
The passion in her kiss nearly kept them abed for another hour.
Sean helped Gyllis dismount. She loved how easily he could lift her. He showed no strain in his face and only set her down when Angus came up with the crutches. He rapped the big knocker on the priory door.
The knocker was so loud up close, Gyllis touched a hand to her ear. “I hope John isn’t angry.”
“I cannot see how he could be. Now, if we’d had Noah’s ark last eve, we might have made it back.
She inclined her lips toward his ear and whispered. “I’m glad we didn’t.”
He winked. “Me as well.”
A monk slid aside the viewing panel. “Miss Gyllis? We were about to send a search party.”
“The burn flooded. There was no way to ferry her back safely,” Sean said.
The monk frowned and ushered Gyllis behind him. “We will see to her safety from here.” Before Sean could say a word, the monk closed the door.
“Pardon me, but that was rather abrupt.” Sean’s voice resounded through the door. “I haven’t even said goodbye.”
The monk slid the panel open. “She bids you good day.”
“I shall see you again soon, Miss Gyllis,” Sean called past the pushy old monk.
“Thank you for your kindness, Sir Sean.”
Gyllis gave the monk a heated look, just to let him know she didn’t appreciate his impertinence. Yes, she had been away longer than Sean had promised, but for good reason. She turned and proceeded through the cloisters. She wouldn’t allow the monk’s sourpuss attitude to diminish her good spirits. She had a semblance of a spring in her step—at least as much as the crutches would allow. Strength radiated through her limbs and she nearly cast the supports aside. Her breast filled with joy, she could not believe her fortune. Last May, she’d gone to the fete seeking to impress Sean MacDougall and had returned home dejected, downtrodden and ill. Only after she’d suffered through the worst of paralysis, had he come to her like a gallant knight and wooed her. Ravished her. And she’d savored every moment in his arms.
Nothing could make Gyllis give up now. She would focus on her treatments more diligently than ever before. Soon she would be walking without assistance. The next time Sean visited Ardchattan, she would be stronger. Every time he would come, she would surprise him with her improvement.
Gyllis leaned on her crutches and opened the door to her cell.
Her smile instantly dropped.
Dressed in black priest’s robes as customary, John faced her, crossed his arms and frowned. It wasn’t his usual frown. His eyes grew dark—almost hateful. “Where the devil have you been for the past day?”
Gyllis’s first thought was to cower—beg for forgiveness. Her face burned, but she straightened, refusing to allow her brother to intimidate her. “The burn flooded. It was impossible to return.”
He stepped closer. “Where did you stay the night?”
“Sir Sean graciously provided me with a chamber at Dunollie.”
“Gracious?” John spread his palms to his sides. “You forget I am quite familiar with Sean MacDougall and his gallant womanizing.”
A lump the size of her fist blocked Gyllis’s throat. Heat prickled her skin. Did John speak true? Were Sean’s actions a ruse to take advantage of a cripple?
No. I will not believe it.
“If he laid a hand on you, the Campbells will not rest until he is brought to justice.”
“Nay.” She clapped a hand to her chest, trying not to heave. In no way could she be the cause of a clan feud. “You are stretching the truth.”
“Me? Lie?” John threw up his hands and paced in a circle. “He has compromised you, has he not?”
Trembling, Gyllis clamped her lips and refused to answer. Sean would ask Duncan for her hand. It had been she who had gone to his chamber, not the other way around. If she hadn’t heard him practicing and grown curious, her virtue would still be intact. She glared at her brother as hotly as
he glared at her.
John grasped her shoulders and shook, his eyes bulging. “I can tell by your reluctance to speak.”
“Please, John. Stop.” She stamped her foot. “We are to be married.”
“MacDougall?” he yelled. “The man’s a superb tracker, but he’s aligned with the Stewarts. You cannot be serious.”
She tightened her grip on her crutches. “I love him.”
“You stupid lass.” He shoved his hand over the shaven part of his head. “You will spend the rest of this day repenting in your cell. At first light on the morrow, the monks will take you back to Kilchurn.”
“No, please.” The crutches tapped the floor as she pattered toward him. “I have only started to respond to Brother Wesley’s treatment.”
He glared with a disdainful scowl. “Your treatment has ended. ’Tis time you return home.”
“Will you…?” She couldn’t say it, but she knew full well John had the power to ruin her.
He stopped pacing. “I shall pen a missive to Duncan and you’d best pray my ire cools before I touch my quill.” He stormed past her and slammed the door.
As her crutches dropped, Gyllis staggered to the bed and dropped face down. Just when she thought her luck had changed, everything came crashing down and crumbled at her feet.
Silently, Gyllis rode with an escort of guards and monks. John hadn’t joined them, nor had he seen her off. Brother Wesley hadn’t come to say goodbye either. She felt filthy like a fallen woman—a leper who was too diseased even to be tended by the faithful.
Her own brother had cast her from his priory. What treatment could she expect from her family? Will they lock me in my chamber? Will they fear me? And what rueful words did John impart in his missive to Duncan?
When the grey stone curtain walls of Kilchurn Castle loomed ahead, Gyllis’s stomach clenched into a tight ball. Upon the battlements, the ram’s horn sounded, indicating the Campbell guard had seen them. Mother, Duncan—everyone would now know they were approaching. Dear Lord, please make everything all right.
The gate was open and the retinue rode straight through the barbican and into the courtyard. The reins slid in Gyllis’s sweaty fingers. From the keep’s great doorway, Duncan, Lady Meg, Mother and her sisters all stared at her. Was that fear Gyllis read on their wide-eyed visages?
The lead guard dismounted, drew a missive from his doublet and handed it to Duncan. “This is for you from the prior, m’lord.”
Gyllis nearly fell off her horse. If only she could have read its contents first, she’d at least know what to expect. Would Duncan take the strap to her? He was fully within his rights if he chose to do so.
When Duncan slipped the missive into his doublet, she breathed a sigh of relief. She would have died if he’d stood in the courtyard and read it aloud as if it were a proclamation.
Mother pushed past him, followed by the lassies. “Praise the good Lord, Gyllis has returned to us.”
Mevan, Mother’s most trusted man-at-arms stepped beside her mount and reached up. “Welcome home, Miss Gyllis. Can I assist you?”
“My thanks.” She hesitated and searched for the monk bearing her crutches. When she saw he’d already dismounted, she braced her hands on Mevan’s shoulders and let the old guard help her down. “How is your wife?” she tried to make conversation as if her world weren’t falling apart.
“She is well, thank you.”
Gyllis took the crutches from the monk and faced her family. Mother’s eyes were red and welled with tears. “At last you have come home.” She pulled her into an embrace.
Mother always smelled of sweet lavender. And her hug was soft and warm and welcoming. Gyllis closed her eyes while her own tears welled.
Perhaps the family would not fear her.
Before she knew it, she was surrounded by her sisters, all chatting and hugging, laughing and crying. Gyllis looked to Meg with Elizabeth in her arms. “You’ve returned from court?” She grinned at the babe. “My, the bairn has grown so much. I cannot believe it.”
Meg beamed, her blue eyes twinkling with the sunlight. “Aye, she’s a healthy lass.” She inclined her head to the nursemaid behind holding the other redheaded twin. “Colin as well.”
“A moment,” Duncan boomed.
Gyllis could have fainted. Has he read John’s missive already?
Mother stood aside. Duncan grasped Gyllis’s shoulders and hugged her. “Welcome home, sister.”
Her resultant sigh of relief nearly made her swoon. “’Tis good to be amongst you once again. Though the monks did so very much to help me, not a day passed where I didn’t miss you.”
Mother straightened Gyllis’s veil. “I am surprised John sent you back so soon. From his last missive, I assumed you’d remain in his care through autumn.”
Gyllis tried not to cringe, though her cheeks burned. “We agreed I could complete the remainder of my training at home,” she hedged and looked toward Helen and Meg. “After all, I have three sisters and a sister-in-law who can help.” If only she could have read what John had scribed in that missive before she opened her mouth.
Meg grinned. “I think we might try a new treatment when you’re ready.”
“I for one am happy you’re here.” Helen placed her hand on Gyllis’s shoulder. “I’ve much to tell you.” Helen’s expression appeared strained.
Unusual. Something is wrong.
Gyllis arched her brow. “I cannot wait.” She moved toward the keep, painfully aware that everyone watched how she managed with her crutches, praying that no one asked how she acquired them.
“Can you climb stairs with those?” Mother asked.
“Aye. I can do almost everything.” Gyllis winked at Helen. She seemed to need a lift of spirits. “And I intend to be walking without them soon.”
“You mustn’t push yourself, dear,” Mother said.
Gyllis looked to the sky. If Ma wasn’t telling someone what to do, she wouldn’t be happy. “It has been a long ride. I’d like to retire to my chamber until the evening meal.”
Helen walked beside her. “I’ll escort you.” Her tone was too chipper. Something was afoot for certain.
Together they left the others staring after them.
Gyllis had surmounted the first hurdle. She had no doubt she’d face Duncan later, but for now she and Helen would have an afternoon to themselves. And it seemed they both needed to talk. If there was one person on earth Gyllis could confide in it was she. When they were but young lasses they had made a pact that anything spoken in confidence could never be repeated.
“You move along very well with those,” Helen said as she led Gyllis up the stairwell.
“Sir Sean made them for me,” she whispered.
Helen stopped. “Are you jesting?”
Gyllis inclined her head toward the landing. “I’ll not utter another word until we are behind closed doors.”
“At least you’ve had some fun?” she asked, waggling her brows.
“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard anyone call paralysis fun.”
Helen opened the door. “You ken what I mean.”
Gyllis hobbled into her chamber and sighed. She’d never really appreciated the grandeur of her rooms. Her four-poster bed had yellow drapes embroidered with wildflowers. She’d forgotten how pretty they looked. Heading toward the overstuffed couch in front of the hearth, she inhaled. The chamber smelled of rose oil. A ray of sunlight shone in through the narrow window with a breeze fluttering the yellow canopy above her bed.
She plopped onto the couch and rested her crutches on the floor. “Come. Tell me what is afoot.”
Helen plodded across the floor and sat with a huff. “’Tis not fair.”
“What?”
“Remember when I told you Duncan and Meg went to court whilst you were away?”
“Aye, I was surprised to see them in the courtyard.” Gyllis reclined against the padded backrest, wishing Duncan and Meg were still at court, and would remain there for the next fifty
years.
Helen heaved an enormous sigh. “It appears Lady Meg decided it was up to her to play matchmaker.”
Gyllis leaned forward, eyebrows drawn together. “Have you ever mentioned to her your affinity for Eoin MacGregor?”
“Wheesht.” Helen glanced over her shoulder as if someone would burst into the chamber. “Of course not.”
Gyllis cringed. “Oh, dear.”
Helen grasped Gyllis’s hand and squeezed. “Duncan would never allow a MacGregor to marry one of us. He believes them beneath the Campbells.”
“They pay fealty to our clan. That makes them no better or worse.”
“Aye.” Helen again glanced around as if she expected spies in every corner. “Well ’tis too late for any of that now. If you had arrived a sennight hence, you would have missed me altogether.”
“Pardon?”
“In two days Mother will be escorting me to Ardnamurchan where I will marry Sir Aleck MacIain, Seventh Chieftain of Ardnamurchan.”
Gyllis could scarcely swallow. She’d only arrived home and now her dearest, most beloved sister was leaving—not only leaving, but wedding someone Gyllis knew nothing about. “You are to be married?”
“Two days hence.”
“Oh my heavens.” Gyllis couldn’t believe it. Helen could not possibly leave now. Not when she—they both—needed an ally. “H-have you met Sir Aleck?”
“I’ve never seen him. Meg tells me he’s agreeable and Duncan says our marriage will make a necessary alliance with the MacIain Clan.”
“He’s chosen your husband to make an alliance? I ken that’s the way of things but, Helen, ages ago we agreed we’d never settle for an arranged marriage—we shall marry for love.”
Helen coughed out a rueful laugh. “’Tis easy for you to say. If you hadn’t come down with paralysis, it would be you heading to Ardnamurchan.”
Gyllis clapped a hand over her mouth. Helen was right, she would have been the one to suffer marriage to a complete stranger had she not been away ill. “This cannot be so.”
“Would I jest about something so grave?”
“My God.” Gyllis cringed at her blasphemy and moreover, her failure to be there in support of her sister. “I feel responsible.”
