In Love With A Warrior (Gunn Guardsman (Book 4)) (26 page)

James was astonished. “Since when do you know of such matters?”

Muriel turned and gave him a wily smile. “I’ve always known. I let you believe you knew more about herbs than I. It seemed to matter to you at the time, and verily I didn’t want to overshadow your good labor.”

James raised a brow at that, for he had been called to save Frances when she’d been poisoned by a villainous banshee. At the time, he used herbs and such to counter the poisons and Muriel had all but scoffed at his knowledge. He could’ve laughed at her now for she was, it seemed, just as talented with herbs as he was. “Will it work?”

“If you stay off the leg, it might. Do you promise?”

James nodded. “I will.”

“I would also suggest that you wrap your leg with thin cloth soaked in eggs without the yoke. The fabric will harden and keep your leg secure. ‘Tis much better than using planks of wood. When I say stay off it, I mean absolutely no weight on it.”

He laughed. “I know what you mean.” James kissed the side of her face. “My thanks.”

She poured a smattering of oil into the power and mixed it until it thickened. Muriel scraped it into a large vessel and used a plug of wax to seal it. Then she wrapped the other large root in a cloth and handed it to him. “Besides, no one will want to be near you for it smells rank.”

He grinned after taking a whiff of the mixture and resealed it. “You tell me that after you gained my promise? You are a sneaky woman.”

“Go with an eased heart, my handsome man.”

James pulled her into his embrace. “I never meant to cause you woe, Muriel.”

“I know. I’m sorry I was so angry that night.”

He hurried out of the cottage and ran into Archibald, the village strongman, who Sean often relied on to take supplies and people back and forth from the keep to the village, riding by. James was able to hitch a ride in his cart.

When he arrived back at the keep, supper was being served and as Frances promised, a feast was set upon the large trestle table. After eating a good bit of fare, he decided to sleep in the bunk he’d occupied when he’d stayed at the keep. He found it empty and lay upon it, thinking of Emlyn and his strategy to win her. If only he could.

Throughout the night, he formulated his plan and reasoned it might work. But he had to speak with Grey and gain his accord before he’d do anything.

James awoke early and found Sean sitting in the hall. His wee bairn lay cradled in his arms, and he appeared to have gotten no sleep. He took the wailing babe from his father and grinned when wee James immediately quieted.

“You do have the gift, James. What are ye doing awake so early? You never rise at this hour.” Sean stretched his arms above his head and yawned.

James took a seat and spoke low so he wouldn’t awaken the now sleeping babe. “I’m leaving this day and hoped you’d be up so I could say farewell.”

“What about my missing cattle and sheep?”

James laughed with a bellow, and caused the babe to flinch. “’Tis the truth you never had any missing cattle, so cease your lies. Och, I thank you for making me come here.”

“Are you ready to join the living again?”

“Aye, I am. I need to get home, to Gunn land.”

Sean yawned again and rubbed his eyes. “Will you give up on Emlyn?”

James’ jaw tightened hearing her name. “Mayhap. I’m still thinking about it. I visited Muriel and she gave me a salve for my leg. I have to keep off my leg for two months.”

“Will the salve help?” Sean looked as though he’d fall asleep any moment, and his eyes kept closing.

“I hope so. I’ll speak with Grey before I decide what to do about … Emlyn.” Saying her name caused his chest to tighten.

“I can see your mind turning. Don’t overthink it. My advice, James, think with your heart for once and not your head.” Sean set his head on the table and his mouth hung open. His eyes grew heavy and closed, and he fell instantly asleep.

James chuckled, knowing his friend was experiencing fatherhood to its fullest. Sean never slept during the day and was never one to let a sleepless night affect him.

“That’s just what I aim to do.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Emlyn had been home for weeks and had no desire to take to the training fields. She stayed in her grandfather’s chamber and hid herself away. Aled, her beast of a hound, was her only amusement. Occasionally, she would allow him to leave the chamber to meet with his owl friend, Iola. He’d been gone for most of the day, and she sighed, for how wretched was she. She had a dog and bird to keep her company, and even they would rather run free amongst the hills than stay with her cooped up in an ancient chamber.

She didn’t want to run into her mother and see the disdain in her eyes. Likewise, she was displeased with her father. He’d never intended to let her war with his men and all that she’d done was for naught. She considered she’d wasted her entire life trying to win his approval, improving her skills, and becoming effective enough to be given the privilege. Yet that wasn’t to be.

What was worse than her life’s dream being pulled from under her was that she’d left James and a life she could’ve had. As much as she tried not to think of him, he crossed her mind throughout each day. Her heart ached knowing she’d caused him pain. How appalling was she? James hadn’t done anything but try to please her and she like a blubbering-miscreant-arse left him.

This day, she’d cursed herself a hundred times for her foolishness, but there was nothing to do but sit around and stew in her own recklessness. But Emlyn couldn’t sit there any longer and began to pace the length of the chamber.

She moved toward the entrance of the cavern and smelled the scent of salty water, for the sea rose and must have reached parts of the cave. With nothing better to do, she ventured farther into the cave and found it led to the rocky expanse leading out to the sea. The drop from the edge of the cavern was enough to make her head spin.

What would happen if she were to step off the ledge and disappear? Would anyone miss her? Would anyone even care that she was gone? The woe of her thoughts made her want to leap forward and put an end to her suffering. She waved her foot over the expanse and the thought of landing at the rocky bottom caused her to move back. As much as sorrow filled her heart, she would never do something as rash as that.

Emlyn wasn’t afraid of being in the cave. Even though as a young lass it had daunted her, she explored and found she enjoyed the solace of being there. How she wished her grandfather was alive. What she wouldn’t do to hear his soothing voice and his opinions on the matters of her heart. He’d always given the soundest advice.

As she walked back toward the chamber, she passed by the eggs she and James had seen when she’d last been in the cavern. They’d hatched and only pieces lay about the large nest by the slimy wall. She knelt and picked up a piece of the shell. Whatever they were, vacated the cave, and she was left to wonder if indeed they were dragons.

She laughed to herself, but wouldn’t disown that they weren’t. For she’d been regaled with her grandfather’s tales of great dragons taking to the sky.

When she reached the antechamber, a knock came at the door. She wasn’t wont to see anyone and decided not to answer. She was in no mood to entertain anyone, let alone allow her sullen mood to affect any who dared to visit. If her father returned yet again to scold her for her misdoings, she would likely fall at his feet and weep in despair.

“Emlyn, open the door, lass. It’s me Griffen.”

She hastened to it and opened the door. As soon as he entered, she slammed it closed and hugged her brother close. “Oh, Griffen, how I have missed you. When did you get back?”

“I just returned and Father told me what happened. Are you injured?”

She shook her head. “Nay, I’m well truly.”

He pulled from her embrace and sat at the table, setting his feet upon it, crossing them at the ankles. “So what’s this about you thwarting the betrothal Father set in place with the guardsman? It’s all he can speak of.”

“I don’t wish to discuss it.”

He laughed. “Nay? What of you not wanting to attend Branwyn’s wedding? For she told me you refused to leave this chamber. You’ll disappoint your dearest friend?”

“I don’t want to be around anyone.” Emlyn kept her gaze on the table, knowing if she looked into her brother’s eyes, she’d lose what composure she had.

“Well, glory be. I don’t deem I’d ever thought to see ye love sick and lorn, but ye are. What are you going to do about it, Em? Sit and hide inside this chamber for the rest of your days?”

“That’s the plan.”

He let out a bellowing laugh. “You knew Father would never allow you to war with his men. I cannot believe you came back for that reason alone. Confess for you’ll feel better if ye do.”

She sighed and knew he was right. “I was imprudent and thought I could be a warrior in Father’s army. Was I not the silliest of lasses? What I did to James, I can never forgive myself. I am afraid, Grif.”

“I never heard you say such words. Afraid of what?” Griffen took a small dagger from inside his tunic and began to run it over his whiskers.

Emlyn gazed at her lap. She wasn’t wont to speak of her shame. “Of the heartbreak I caused him. I vow, Griffen, he is such a worthy man, the most of any I’d ever met and I was foolish and walked away from him. His laird bespoke such atrocious words to me when I left. I daren’t repeat what he said, but I cannot return to him even if that is my greatest wish.”

“So you admit it.” Griffen chuckled and set the dagger on the table with a bang. “You do love the guardsman?”

“Aye, of course I do. But he won’t want me now.” Emlyn could’ve cried at the sorrow of her words.

“Won’t you attend Branwyn’s wedding? For I know that would at least make you smile if only for an hour or two. Come, the festivities have begun and if you ever cared for her, you will put aside your self-loathing for a wee bit.”

“Aye, you’re aright. But I have nothing to wear. I cannot go garbed in this gown.” Emlyn wasn’t about to go to her friend’s wedding in the wrinkled and soiled gown she wore.

“I was prepared for this and asked Suzanna for a gown. It’s outside in a satchel.” He hastened to the door and returned with it. “Now ready yourself. I’ll be waiting for you outside. Don’t dally as you are wont to.” Griffin shut the door.

Emlyn went to the bowl of fresh water she’d retrieved earlier. She washed her face and disrobed of her garments. She pitched them in the hearth where a small fire was set. An instant brightness shone in the chamber when the fabric engulfed with flame. There was no sense in keeping the garment as it was beyond repair.

She pulled out a gown of crimson velvet with a gold overlay of floral. How it would clash with her hair, but she didn’t care. She’d wear it with pride. Hastily, she pulled the gown over her head and found matching slippers in the satchel. With her fingers, she detangled her hair and then twisted two tresses on each side and knotted them behind her head. When she was finished, she felt much better, if not cleaner.

Outside, the night had cooled the heat of the day, and many of her family’s followers joined in the festivities. Noise reached her from where those danced and caroused. All she wanted to do was find Branwyn, wish her well, and then retreat.

Griffen took her hands and clasped them in his. “You look lovely, sister. Your friend will be gladdened to see you. Will you at least smile?”

She put on a fake grin and nodded. “Where is she?”

“There, ahead. Go and see her.”

Emlyn walked forward until she stood in front of the table where Branwyn sat. She was laughing and seemed to be having a jovial time. Emlyn wasn’t wont to ruin her day and she turned.

“Wait.”

She turned back. “I came because … You look so beautiful, Bran. I always knew you would look so on your wedding day.”

Branwyn hugged her fiercely. “I am happy you’re here. Come, join us. Cranog, get Emlyn a drink and move down a seat.”

Her new husband set off to do her bidding and returned with a drink, and handed it to her. Cranog had removed the whiskers from his face, and Emlyn found herself grinning, for she remembered what Branwyn told her about her wedding night. He was much more attractive without the hair hiding his handsome face. His fair hair had grown, and he had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen on a man. How pleased she was that her friend had found love and married well.

Emlyn sat beside her friend and waved to Delyth who sat a few seats away. She couldn’t get Branwyn to release her hand. “I promise not to run off if I can have my hand back.”

Her friend laughed a merry sound. “I fear you might run off. I never thought to see you again and here you are, sitting at my wedding feast. Can you believe I am a married woman?”

“Nay, but you will make him a good wife. You were always willing to do all the things I was not.” Emlyn shook herself, not wanting to sound so woeful on her friend’s happy day.

Branwyn leaned close. “I shall tell you a secret. I deem you could easily do the tasks of a wife, Em, for it’s not that difficult. Just tiresome at times and I vow you have more energy than anyone I know. If you can best a man on the field with a sword, sewing a tunic would be child’s play.”

She laughed. “Mayhap. Have you danced with your husband?”

“Oh, aye, I have. He’ll be wanting to high off to his friends who are waiting to toast him. Go on, Cranog, but drink not too much for I expect ye to … be sober when ye come to our bed this night.”

Those around them laughed and Emlyn shoved her friend’s shoulder. “Cease being a shrew and let him have this one night.”

“Hah, one night indeed. His nights are no longer his to enjoy. So tell me of your journey. I want to hear it from you and not second-handed. Is it true you pretended to be a princess so Marshall wouldn’t want you? I vow you are cunning, and always was.” Branwyn raised her cup and waited until she clicked her cup against it.

Emlyn sighed. “I am contrary of clever, truly. But I wish not to discuss my sorrow, Bran. For it is your day and we shall be merry even if it kills me.”

“You shall be merry, I promise. If I could change things I would have Bevan here. He, at least, got you to smile. I remember how he used to jest with you and you would laugh and blush, especially when you thought no one was looking. You’d likely be heavy with child by now were he here.”

She took Branwyn’s hand. “Let us not speak of him. For my heart cannot take any more sadness. Aye, don’t look at me like that. I admit I may have had more fondness for Bevan that I admitted. I’ve lost two loves in less than one year. A woman shouldn’t have to bear such pain.”

Branwyn gasped. “So it is true, you love the warrior, James?”

“Aye, I realized it a little too late and there’s nothing to be done about it now.” Emlyn snatched the cup Cranog had gotten for her and finished off the ale. “But verily, can we forget about that. Oh, nay, there is my mother. I hope she doesn’t see …” Too late. Her mother walked hastily toward her.

“What are you doing here? Did I not banish you?”

Emlyn stood. “Mother, not here. Not on Branwyn’s day. I will speak to you another day about your banishment. I wish not to upset my friend.”

Her mother glared and then glanced at Branwyn. “You have endangered us and I shan’t forgive you. I shall speak with you now. I will give you a sennight to leave our land. I care not where you go, child. Go you shall.”

Her mother marched off and Emlyn retook her seat. “I vow she is rather angry, isn’t she?”

Branwyn giggled. “Just a mite. Where will you go?”

Emlyn shrugged. “I know not, but something will come to mind.” For the remainder of the night, she pondered her mother’s words and thought about where she might find sanctuary. She thought perhaps the Ross’ laird might aid her, for he did have empathy for her when the king sent her away.

If her father’s army faced Marshall’s wrath then so be it. She wouldn’t hold herself accountable any longer. And with her mother’s fury there was no way she could remain.

She spotted Griffen standing with a few of his comrades in the distance. Emlyn called to him and he turned.

“Aye? Did I not tell you, Branwyn, that I could get her to come?”

“You did and I thank you.”

Emlyn smiled. “I thank you as well, Grif. I have a favor to ask. Will you and a few of your comrades take me to Scotland?”