Patrik despised what they proposed. They didn’t know Cristina, or understand the horrors she’d overcome. That against the odds, she’d grown into an amazing, caring woman, one whom he’d grown to love. To even consider agreeing to their plot reeked of betrayal. Still, he understood their concern, respected their caution. He blew out a harsh breath. Nodded. Let them set up a ploy to test her, but he well knew the result—she would leave the writ untouched.
Seated at the dais within the great hall, Emma sipped the last of her wine. The rumble of people filling the room as they ate was far from calming, and she found their curious stares disturbing. She damned her failed attempt to see Patrik before she left, but at his door this morn she’d heard male voices from within. One, she’d recognized as Alexander, the others those of his brothers. No, she was not foolish enough to enter the lion’s den.
“You are full?” Lady Linet asked from her side.
“Yes.” Guilt edged through Emma that Lady Linet had honored her with such status as to sit upon the dais while she broke her fast. If they knew Sir Cressingham had hired her, they’d offer her little but the coldness of the dungeon, if not death.
Lady Linet set her goblet upon the table and smiled. “You are free to move about the keep.”
Stunned by her offer, Emma hesitated. “Including seeing Patrik?”
“If you wish.”
Unease crept through Emma. “Why am I now allowed to see Patrik?”
A touch of color rose in the other woman’s cheeks. “My husband but wanted Patrik to have a night’s rest.”
It was the same reason given before, yet she had her doubts. Had Lord Grey’s decision to do with his meeting this morning in Patrik’s chamber? Mayhap she was imagining danger where none lurked. Regardless of the earl’s reason, she could see Patrik one last time.
A whirl of blond curls rushed toward her.
Delight infused Emma. “Joneta.”
“My mum told me to leave you be as you are busy eating, but I stole away when she was not looking,” Joneta whooshed out, her eyes shining with excitement, “You are not upset, are you?”
“Of course not.” Emotion swamped Emma as she smiled at Marie, who stood a few paces away. After giving the child a warm hug, she leaned back and caught Lady Linet watching her with interest. After a brief introduction, she turned to the girl. “And what have you been doing since your arrival?”
“Yesterday afternoon, a woman took my mum and I around. And my father has been given a task. We will live here!” Joneta’s voice squealed with excitement. “Is not this castle wondrous?”
“It is,” Emma agreed. Lord Grey was truly a kind man. She smiled at Marie. “And ’twould seem you have found a new home.”
“We have.” Marie nodded to the countess. “Our thanks, my lady, to you and your husband.”
Lady Linet smiled. “I hope you will enjoy living at Lochshire Castle.” She stood, motioned to Emma. “If you are ready, I will show you to Patrik’s chamber.”
Excitement filled Emma as she rose. “I must go.” She gave Joneta one last hug. “And, your mother is waiting.”
Blond locks bounced as the child hurried back to her mother. Once there, she turned and waved.
“She is adorable,” Lady Linet said.
“She is.” And Emma would miss her when she left. Somber, she turned, followed the countess up the turret steps. With each one her sense of regret deepened. This would be the last time she saw Patrik.
A tall, muscled man descended the stairs above. Brown hair secured at the nape of his neck framed a hard face and brown eyes that sparked with intelligence. Why did he seem familiar? Her blood turned to ice.
God in heaven, the Baron of Monceaux!
Cristina stumbled.
Lord Monceaux caught her. “Be careful, my lady.”
Panic stormed her.
Please God, do not recognize me.
“My regrets, I was clumsy.”
He frowned, his eyes studying her curiously.
“Griffin,” Lady Linet said. “You have not yet met Mistress Cristina. She arrived with Patrik. Mistress Cristina, it is my pleasure to introduce you to the Baron of Monceaux. He is Lady Nichola’s brother.”
He gave her a half bow. “’Tis my pleasure to meet you.”
“As mine, my lord.” What was King Edward’s advisor to Scotland doing within a rebel stronghold? More important, did King Edward realize one of his most trusted advisors held rebel ties? Was he the man who sent the writs? No, it made little sense as he often traveled to Scotland himself.
The baron frowned. “Have we met?”
“Not that I can recall.” Not formally, Emma silently amended. But she’d seen him from a distance, admired his ability to calm heated tempers. With his sharp mind, he would soon place her.
“We are on our way to see Patrik,” Lady Linet said.
“Be warned,” the baron said, “he is ornery as a bear, proof he is indeed healing.”
Lady Linet’s face softened. “Glad I am to hear it.” She glanced at Emma. “Let us go.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” Lord Monceaux said.
“As you, my lord.” With a curtsy, Emma hurried after Lady Linet, grateful for a catastrophe avoided.
At the second floor, she peered up the stairs. “Whose chamber sits at the top of the turret?”
Curiosity flickered upon Lady Linet’s face. “The brothers’ grandmother. The room is amazing, is it not?”
So her husband had informed her of Emma’s visit. “It is, but . . .”
“What?”
Emma shrugged. “It matters not.”
“Please, I would be interested to hear.”
Unsure why, Emma found herself wanting to share her experience with Lady Linet. “Never have I felt such acceptance, a sense of peace, but it is unnerving as well.”
Warmth touched Lady Linet’s face. “The chamber made me feel the same.”
Images flickered through Emma’s mind. “The fairies upon the ceiling, they are wondrous, a match to those upon the tapestry. Were they made at the same time as the tapestries hanging in the turret?”
Lady Linet’s brows lifted with surprise. “They were. I am surprised you noticed.” She turned toward the corridor. “Come, I am sure Patrik wishes to see you.”
Emma followed, mulling over what they’d discussed. Somehow, her experience within their grandmother’s chamber had changed Lady Linet’s feelings toward her, which made little sense. ’Twould seem the more she learned about the MacGruders, the more perplexed she became.
They walked down the corridor. Two doors past where Emma had slept, Lady Linet halted, opened the door.
A young man inside the entry bowed. “My lady.”
The countess nodded. “Master William, please leave us. After a short while you may return.”
“Yes, my lady.” The young man hurried out.
“He serves the healer and remains to ensure Patrik’s fever does not return,” Lady Linet explained. “I hope you think me not rude, but there are duties I must see to.”
“I understand,” Emma said, thankful to see Patrik, more so to have time with him alone.
“Do not stay too long. Patrik needs to rest.”
“I will not, my lady.”
With a smile, the countess turned and walked down the corridor.
On edge, Emma slipped inside and closed the door. When she caught sight of Patrik asleep in his bed, she stilled. Bruises marred his handsome face, his paleness told her the fever had indeed taken its toll. But he lived, and for that she was grateful. Aching to speak with him, she remained silent. After all he had endured, she could not wake him.
With quiet steps, she walked to the bed and sat in a chair at its side. Hand trembling, she laid her palm against his cheek. Cool. Thank God. She stroked his stubbled skin.
If only she did not have to leave him. Her hand stilled. What if she told Patrik the truth? She removed her hand. No, he would never forgive her intended betrayal. It was best if she left.
“I will miss you,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “But you would never understand.” She swallowed hard. “I cannot stay.” Heart aching, Emma leaned forward, pressed her mouth gently upon his lips. “I love you.”
Her entire body trembled as she stood. Emma stared down one last time at the man she loved, at the man who would forever hold her heart. Mayhap it was best if he slept.
Cristina’s emotion-torn words echoed in Patrik’s mind like a gift. She loved him. He ached to tell her that he loved her as well, to draw her to him and make love, except her softly whispered intent to leave severed his reply. And after agreeing to his brothers’ plan to discover Cristina’s loyalties, he had no choice.
The soft sound of steps alerted him she was leaving. “Cristina?”
She turned, her face pale, her eyes still bright with unshed tears.
“I did not hear you.” The lie sat upon his tongue like curdled milk.
“You were asleep when I entered. I did not want to disturb you.”
He held out his hand; she walked over and laid her trembling fingers within his. “What is wrong?” But he knew, damn her—she was going to leave.
“I was worried about you,” she said.
“Sit beside me.”
Cristina glanced at the door. “I should not.”
“We will not be bothered.”
“You look better.”
“Clean, you mean. The bruises will fade.” Her eyes were brimming with tears. “You are crying?”
“I-I have been worried about you.”
“There is no need now, is there, lass?”
She sniffed. “No. Forgive me, I am being foolish.”
If only it was so simple. “Are you sure there is nothing more upsetting you?”
For a split second panic flashed in her eyes. Then a brittle smile wobbled on her face. “No, I am just tired.”
No?
For the first time since he’d met her, he realized she never said nae as most Scots did. There you go, convict her, lad, without knowing the full truth. The reasons could be many, including her time spent along the border.
She’d never mentioned the location of the orphanage or where she had lived with her husband.
“Lie with me.”
She cast a nervous glance at the entry. “Patrik, ’tis indecent.”
“Aye.” Desire filled his voice. He did not have to feign that. “It is.” And, might very well be the last time they spent together.
She hesitated. “But you are hurt and—”
He tugged her hand. “Come, I will do naught but hold you.”
She eyed him, far from convinced.
“Well, mayhap a wee bit more.” Instead of a smile, sadness touched her gaze, and his heart squeezed tight.
Cristina again glanced toward the door, then with care, lay by his side. “I feel foolish.”
He ran his hand over her face, down the curve of her neck wanting more, wanting it all. “You feel bonny to me.”
She shivered beneath his touch as desire darkened her gaze. “You are healing.”
“I am a better man already.” He claimed her mouth, took it with intensity. As her body relaxed against his, he softened the kiss. On a groan, he pulled back, smiled. “Look at this, I have you in my bed.”
“’Tis not a joke.”
A chill swept through him. “Nay, ’tis anything but.” He searched her face as his mind clamored in turmoil. At least for this moment, regardless of where this day should end, she was here with him. And loving her, aware she was in love with him, he wanted her in every way. Patrik leaned forward and nuzzled her neck.
She sighed. “You will open your wounds.”
He pushed away her gown, drew her breast into his mouth. “Tell me you do not want this.”
Cristina held his gaze, the desire within her eyes tempered with regret. “I cannot.”
He ignored the latter and sat up. “Wait here.”
“Why? Patrik, you should not be about.”
He shot her a wink. “I will be doing more than that in a moment. Stay.”
Wincing at the pull of skin, slightly dizzy from moving, he walked with care to the entry and barred the door. Though he knew no one would enter, he would take no chance. And ’twould ease her mind. He walked to the window, pushed the shudders wide.
Sunlight poured into the chamber, a warm silk that flooded the room within its golden glow.
He turned, stunned at how she lay upon his bed, her chestnut hair disheveled, half exposed. She had never looked so amazing. “I want you.”
Cristina sat, her gown still splayed open from his touch, looking like every man’s dream. “I will be yours, always.”
His body hardened to a ferocious ache. With slow steps, he walked over, knelt before her. “I have dreamt of seeing you in the light, of having time to make love to you, of lying beside you after you fall apart.” He pressed a finger over her lips as she made to speak. “Nae words.” He caught her hand, pressed it over his heart. “This moment it is only you, only I, and what we have together.”