In Love With A Warrior (Gunn Guardsman (Book 4)) (23 page)

“My thanks, milady.” James grinned and inclined his head. “Come, sit next to me, Emlyn.” He lowered his leg and pulled the chair out beside his for her. “You look lovely,” he said next to her ear so only she could hear.

She took the seat offered and leaned close. “She is a force to be reckoned with. I had no choice but to wear the gown.”

“Well, you do look bonny. Aye,” James said, and leaned closer to her. He slid his fingers along her neck and wished to put his lips there. “And we shall remove it at the soonest.”

Emlyn giggled and slapped his hand away lightly. “Lest you forget that I am angry with you.”

“Can we not call a truce for this night? It has been too long since I had you naked and willing in my arms.”

“Mayhap, I’ll consider it.”

When James looked up, he found all within the hall watching them. He cleared his throat and firmed his jaw. They had nothing better to do than eavesdrop. He could’ve laughed at their expressions too, for they appeared dumbfounded.

Four maids thankfully distracted his clansmen, when they entered and brought trays of foodstuffs and set them on the table.

“You’re in for a grand feast, Emlyn, for no one cooks akin to milady and Gell.” He reached for a trencher and set it in front her.

“It smells heavenly. I should offer my thanks to God, for I’m famished.”

James raised his brow. He thought she’d worshiped the gods of her father. When his gazed lingered and questioned, she leaned close again.

“My mother is Catholic and we, my brothers and sisters and I, were raised in that faith. Is that not why you looked at me curiously?”

He nodded. “I thought you were of your father’s religion. I saw evidence of it at your father’s keep and heard you speak the name of his gods a few times.”

Emlyn smiled and reached for the nearest trencher. “I learned both religions. My father does as he wants but allows my mother her ways.”

“Your father does not appear to be the kind of man to be so tolerant. Even of a wife.”

She laughed. “When he wishes for peace in his household he does. My mother has a way of gaining his agreement.”

James had to give her words more thought. For if the great Llywelyn conceded to his wife’s will, mayhap he could do the same with Emlyn.

The feast continued and revelry ensued when stories abounded of their lives, how they met and became Gunn guardsmen. James found himself enjoying the conversation. Bree outdid herself with the goose, puddings, and sweet cakes. He ate his fill and couldn’t eat another bite. He hadn’t eaten so much in many a month, not since Saint Swithin Day, when they’d feasted after his return home from Sean’s holding.

Grey tapped the table with the butt of his supper dagger. “All cease talk. James, we’re glad to have you home and in one piece. Emlyn, a toast to you for keeping our James safe and for aiding him. This night is at an end. I’m sure James wishes to be on his way. Do you need help?”

Such a question would usually insult him, but James knew Grey was being kind.

“Nay, Laird, I can make it on my own.” He rose and took the wood his father had given him and supported his stance. “Come, Emlyn. We’ll be leaving.”

“Where are we going?” She rose and stood next to him, taking his arm.

He didn’t answer, but pulled her along after taking her hand with his free one. Outside, the chilly night blew a brisk wind at their backs. The walk to the cottage was a ways from the keep and James almost groaned at the thought of trekking it. It would be difficult for him, but he’d bear it.

The solitude after a night’s comradery soothed him. Many had sought their beds and there was very little light, fire, or candles in any of the cottages they passed. He remained quiet on their walk because he wasn’t sure what to say to her, and because it took all his focus to make sure he didn’t fall.

“Will you not tell me where we are going?”

“To a cottage.”

She kept her thoughts to herself the remainder of the walk. His leg began to burn with pain the farther he got from the keep. James ignored it as much as he could. When they finally reached the cottage, he was relieved. He wouldn’t want to incur Emlyn’s harping about his leg so he refrained from mentioning how taxing the effort was.

He opened the door and allowed her to enter before him. Once inside, he closed the door and leaned against, knowing he’d have trouble making it to the chair or bed.

The cottage looked the same as he remembered it. Not many had ever entered it because Grey kept it solely for his use when he wanted to be alone with Bree. The large bed was covered with their clan’s tartan. In the center sat a small table sat just before an inset of the hearth. A fire had been prepared and its glow added to the ambiance of the cottage. Several candles had been lit and were set about the small domain.

James approached the hearth and set two thick pieces of wood in it, which would take hours to burn. It would afford warmth throughout the night.

Emlyn found one of her trunks sitting near the bed. “Oh, my satchel is here.” She pulled it out and held her short sword as if it were her most prized possession. Her eyes affectionately grazed the object.

Were that she looked at him with such affection. James didn’t know how to compete with such love. He watched her with interest for he’d never been ruled by his possessions.

“Ah, the dagger Griffen gave me. I’m glad I didn’t lose it. My brother would have been disappointed.” She unsheathed it and held the blade before her face, looking at the shine and lure of it.

He said nothing to that because doing so would only reveal his deceit in sending her satchel along with Grey. James was doomed for he realized there was no way he could make her as happy as her weapons did.

“Emlyn, you set my soul on fire.”

She turned and sheathed the dagger, and set her sword and it on the trunk. “What say you, James? Come, get off your feet. I know you must be hurting.”

He kept his hands at his side even though he wanted to pull her against him and kiss the life out of her. She stepped toward him, but James held out his hand for he knew if she got too close, he’d take her in his arms.

“Come, let us to bed. I want to be with you.”

Emlyn’s words stiffened him, and the tenseness reached his heart. “Nay.”

“Nay? Do you not want to be with me?” She’d spoken low and moved forward.

She was inches from him and all he had to do was reach out, but he swore by all that was holy, he would not. “I do want to be with you, Emlyn, more than you know. Och I want all of you. I want your heart to desire only me.”

“My heart can share desire for more than one thing at a time. I don’t understand, James. Why are you saying this?”

Her beautiful brows furrowed with her confusion, and James wasn’t about to elaborate, for he’d said enough. Then he contradicted himself when he pulled the cottage door open. Before he walked out, he gazed upon her lovely face. “I won’t stand in the way of you doing what makes you happy. Take my heart with you when you go for it will always be yours.”

“Are you saying I can leave?” Emlyn took a step toward him.

He held a hand out again, stopping her from proceeding. “Aye, protect yourself well when you join the battle and your father’s army. Farewell, my lovely lass.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

The cottage felt spacious with only her in it. Emlyn spent the last two days cooped up and stewed in guilt. She kept thinking of her last moment with James and how he’d said farewell and walked out. In the seconds following, she was sure he would return, but he didn’t. Then she spent the next several hours considering going after him, but she daren’t. She wasn’t sure where to find him and even if she did, she knew not what to say.

Hesitantly, she opened the cottage door and walked to the gate. She found herself standing at the top of the hill and below her many men gathered and trained. The Gunn soldiers appeared formidable when they went at each other. Her father’s men likewise trained with such heart and fearlessness.

Emlyn sat on a grassy spot and pulled her knees up, clasping them with her hands. She watched the sessions with interest, and noticed Duff far-a-field and could hear his shouts from where she sat. His face reddened, and he cuffed the back of one of the young soldier’s heads when he missed a strike from a sword. She found herself grinning because his surly nature would’ve made her nervous too, had she trained under him.

A rest was called and many of the men ran up the hill, sprinting to get away from their daunting leader. None spoke to her as they passed, but she smiled and laughed to herself at their woeful expressions.

“Milady, I see ye found the fields. It was only a matter of time before ye did.” Duff approached and sat next to her. “Been keeping our James busy these days? I haven’t seen him.”

“Good day, Duff. Nay, I haven’t been with James. I was watching the practice. You do well with the soldiers, but they seem to frustrate you.”

He bellowed a grunt. “Aye, they do. No matter how hard I am on them, they just don’t seem to be able to master the simplest task. What do you mean you haven’t been with James? We haven’t seen him since he arrived.”

Emlyn shielded her eyes with her hand and looked back at the field where a handful of soldiers remained. “Nay? I haven’t either.” She didn’t wish to discuss James and hoped Duff wouldn’t bring him up again. “Some of your soldiers are dedicated.”

“They’re seasoned soldiers and have no need of rest.”

“Ah,” she said, understanding. “Mayhap if you try a little patience with the lads, they wouldn’t be so nervous around you.”

Duff scowled. “Do you deem, milady, that they wouldn’t be nervous when they come upon a foe and must use their swords effectively?”

“They must learn the skills before they would ever meet with a foe. Aye, learn to walk before they can run. I would stick to basics and not be so grating on them. Let them work at mastering the movements without you breathing down their necks.”

Duff appeared to want to ring her neck with his burly hands. Emlyn kept her expression serene and showed no fear of him even though she wanted to flee for her life.

He opened his mouth but spoke not a word.

“I meant no offense, Duff, and I am certain you are the best at what you do. It is just an observation. Pay me no heed.”

Grey approached and called Duff. Without a word to her, he rose and walked hastily away. She knew she’d angered him, but that was no remarkable feat because the man usually seemed irate about something.

Emlyn wished she could get her sword and use it to train with the soldiers. How she missed the exercise. Were that she could work out her frustration, she probably would feel better about the situation.

“Emlyn, I will see you in the hall.”

She looked up when Grey shouted to her. With a nod, she rose and followed him. Her steps slowed, and she kept a pace behind him, for she wasn’t wont to walk with him. His mood seemed unappeased this morn, and she was afraid that she might be the cause.

When she entered the great hall, she found Grey had already taken a seat, and the room was vacated by his clan. Awkwardly, she approached and stood next to the table.

“Be seated.” His voice lowered and pitched.

Emlyn took the chair closest to her, three from him. “Laird Grey?”

“Duff tells me you haven’t seen James since you arrived. Is that so?”

She folded her hands on her lap and her shoulders slunk. “That is so. He said farewell and left me the night he took me to the cottage.”

“Where did he go?”

“I know not.” Emlyn lowered her gaze. “I am afraid I hurt him and he’s not pleased with me. I would ask that you tell me what happened with Marshall and my father. James told me that he found out about my trickery. I despair that my family is in danger.”

Grey leaned forward. “You don’t realize, do you, lass?”

“Realize what, Laird Grey?” Emlyn was about to rise, for she understood he was angry with her and she was certain he wasn’t about to tell her any word from her father or that of Marshall.

“How much you mean to James.”

She shook her head and kept her eyes lowered. Surely he beheld anger toward her, if his voice gave any indication. “I do not wish to discuss James, Laird Grey. He is released of his duty and I won’t hold it against him for wanting to get back to his life. I’ve detained him long enough from his duties.”

“Aye, it matters not, for I should tell you … Laird Ross told me our king is displeased by your treachery and Marshall means to wage full out war with your father. We will deal with our king’s displeasure, och I don’t know how your father is going to appease Marshall.”

“I must leave at once. Will you supply a few men to escort me?”

Grey rose. “What can you do? You should not worry about such matters and leave these political dealings to your father and Marshall. Your father bade you to do whatever it took to leave off Marshall and now you want to go back? It is foolhardy.”

“I do mean to return home. I should’ve realized how much jeopardy I put my family in. I will not allow them to be killed because Marshall wants me. If he wants me then he shall have me. One life for thousands …”

Grey cursed under his breath and banged the table with his fist. “So you will sacrifice yourself and be a martyr for those in your clan even though they cared not a whit for you when they sent you to him in the first place? You are the most confounded woman a man could … What of James? You’ll leave and have no care of his feelings for you?”

His harsh words made Emlyn want to weep, but she maintained her composure somehow. “I do have a care of his feelings, Laird Grey. That is why I choose to leave. I never promised him anything … and he never bespoke of promises to me. I am not wont to cause him any further pain.”

Grey rounded his chair and kept moving down the side of the long table. He looked back at her and seemed to get lost in his thoughts. When he looked back again, his face appeared angry with a scowl.

“I don’t understand what you want from me,” she said, becoming perplexed by him.

“You are either the most imprudent woman alive or James is the most unlucky. Very well, lass, I’ll arrange for your departure immediately.”

*****

Grey simmered with anger. For that lass could try the patience of a saint, and yet he knew from experience James was no saint. Still, he did not deserve her reckless spirit. After he returned Emlyn to the cottage and bid her to stay there, he sent off a missive to Donal. On the morrow he’d remove the lass from his land.

His steps hastened, and he entered the garrison. That was the only place he could think of to find James. Near the back of the barracks, where James and Sean had made somewhat of a home for themselves when they’d been his guard, he found him sitting on his cot.

He stood in shock at what he was seeing. “James … are ye going mad?” Grey took in the sight and his heart rent and went out to his friend. Not only that, but his chest tightened at seeing James so distraught. “You look like cosh.”

He chuckled. “Aye? Well, Laird, I feel like shit. And, nay, I’m not going mad. I am as sane as I’ve ever been. What brings you by?”

Grey pulled a wooden chair that sat nearby and set it next to his cot. James sat around hundreds, if not thousands, of arrows, all carved to perfection. He frowned at the sight, for it seemed his guardsman had been busy.

“What are these for? Are ye going to wage war?”

James glanced up from his whittling. “Nay, I was bored and had nothing to do. Take them and give them to the younger lads to practice with.”

“Nay, I cannot. What is this?” Grey picked up a stack of parchments tied together to make a book. He thumbed through the pages and frowned at the images.

“Ah, my drawings.” He looked back at his whittling.

“Christ Almighty, James, they’re horrible. Why’d you draw them?”

“They’re wounds I’ve seen or tended. I don’t know, Grey, they’re just descriptions of what I’ve seen and I wanted to remember them. What do you want?”

“I’ve just spoken with Emlyn.”

James glanced at him briefly before turning his attention back to the piece of wood he held. “Aye, she’s still here? I would’ve thought she’d left that night and was halfway back to Wales by now.”

Grey sat astride the chair and leaned against the back. “Do I have to explain women to you, James? I deem you might need some aid.”

“Nay, don’t bother, Laird.”

“Will you cease doing that and look at me?”

James set the wood aside and ran his hands over his face. “What?”

“She insists I take her home and I wanted to ensure that’s what you wanted, but I see from your reaction … Never mind. She’ll be gone in the morn, if you care to do anything about it.”

“That will suit me well, for the sooner she is gone the sooner I can forget her. I am finished with her.”

“Is that what you really want?”

James shrugged and then shuffled to the edge of the cot and leaned on his knees. His face was riddled with confusion and anger, and Grey had never seen his friend so full of woe.

“Look into my eyes, for she’s slayed me. All I wanted was her and I can’t have her. Aye, she wants to support her father. I don’t see why you shouldn’t honor her request. We should’ve never aided her to begin with. It was a wasted effort on our part.”

Grey saw the anguish and hurt in his friend’s eyes. “You love her.”

James scoffed. “Cosh, mayhap I do, but what have I to offer her now? I can no longer be a guardsman for I can’t even walk ten feet without excruciating pain. Hell, I can’t even be a fucking farmer as my da willed. I’m nothing and even if she wanted me, I wouldn’t put her in such a position. As much as I love her, I won’t be selfish. I need to let her go. It is over.”

“That’s the most load of manure I’ve ever heard you speak.”

“’Tis the truth, Grey. Now leave me be.”

“Do ye plan to sit here for the rest of your life and whittle arrows, draw gruesome images, and hide from everyone? You have a life, James, and will, and can be a guardsman again.”

James shuffled back to his sitting position and glared at him. “Nay, I cannot. Look at me, Grey, I’m akin to a cripple. For God’s sake, I can’t stand for more than five minutes. I won’t endanger you or your family.”

“I vow your father was right. You are one of the most stubborn Gunns in our clan.” Grey turned and left him before he said a few harsh sentiments that would further hurt his friend.

He stood outside the garrison, his chest rising with his aggression. The two of them would drive any person to drink and that’s exactly what Grey needed after his discussion with James and Emlyn.

Throughout the rest of the night, he sat quietly in the hall, sipping at the brew that usually sent him to cheer, unwilling to speak of his thoughts. Bree tried to make him laugh a few times, but he asked all to leave him. He couldn’t be around his children when he was in such a mood, for he didn’t want to upset them.

Morning came, and he kissed Bree farewell. As soon as he collected Emlyn from the cottage, he walked toward the gatehouse where Gordy awaited with a handful of Gunn soldiers. He refrained from speaking to the lass, because if one word was uttered, he’d likely make her weep with his harsh affront. She walked beside him, carrying one satchel which seemed heavy for she could barely lift it. He wasn’t about to aid her for his anger caused his chivalry to flee.

“Good morn, Laird. Are we to the Ross’ keep?” His young commander-in-arms stood smiling.

“Aye, but I’ve another task for you, Gordy. Take this missive to Sean and only give it to him. Make haste, for he needs to receive it at the soonest. Take a few men with you. These men can travel with me to Donal’s.”

“I’ll leave this minute.” Gordy whistled to several men standing nearby. “Get your horses, men, I need ye to come on an errand for our Laird.”

Grey, appeased that task was done, took Emlyn’s satchel from her and scowled when he felt the weight of it. He tied it to her horse and hefted her upon it.

“Laird Grey, will you not speak to me?”

“Nay.” He nudged his horse and set off. Grey was thankful Donal’s was only about a day’s ride. Within a short time, he would rid himself of the lass and try to put back together his friend, if that was even possible.

Along the trail to Donal’s, Grey kept a quick pace. He tried not to think of his conversation with James, but it kept repeating in his mind. Donal’s keep came into view and he let out a relieved sigh. Step one in setting to right these woeful matters …