She Owns the Knight (26 page)

“Truthfully?” She looked around and, feeling tired and vulnerable, told him the truth. “I just want to go home.”

“You are home. I am your home.”

Gillian bit her lip and couldn’t help it, she moved forward, wrapped her arms around his waist, and lay her head on his chest. She hoped he still felt that way when she took him back with her. “You have no idea how much I want that to be true,” she whispered.

“Shh. Shh. You are not to worry. I
will
keep you safe.” His arms engulfed her for a long moment, then he leaned back to regard her, expression serious.

“Think you I know not where your true concerns lie? Come.” Kellen took her hand and tugged her to the middle of the bailey so she could see into the gate. “Look you there. See the extra men guarding the gate?” He pointed up. “The towers? I know you are concerned that whoever murdered Frederick will try for thy life once more. You need fear no longer. None will be allowed in or out without my express permission.”

Her mouth parted as dread built in her chest. In or
out?

“There is more. Let me show you.” He tugged her toward the entrance of the keep and dragged her through to the kitchens, where Cook and her helpers prepared food.

“Thy lady fears more poison. Can you not set her mind at ease?”

Cook’s ample chest puffed up and she shook her head. “You’ve naught to fear, my lady. Any food you eat will have no chance at poison. None but myself will serve you, I can assure you of that.”

“You see? I learn from my mistakes. A guard will be set at your door each night. My enemies will never again threaten what I prize most.” He cupped her face and looked as if he were making a vow.

Gillian’s knees weakened. “Kellen—”

In an abrupt move, he once more grasped her hand and pulled her after him, rounded a corner and pressed her into an alcove. “I want you to feel safe and happy here. I have decided I will court you and then you will desire to stay with me always.”

“Really,” she said weakly. “That’s not necessary.”

“I assure you, what I want is you, relaxed and happy, looking forward to our wedding day.” He dipped his mouth toward her ear. “And night.” His lowered voice caused her to shiver, which made her mad. She didn’t have time for this right now. She gave him a shove and he backed up a step, his eyes questioning. “Gillian?”

He just didn’t get it. He wanted her relaxed and happy? He wanted to court her? With Edith’s father no doubt riding toward the castle to expose her as an imposter, with Kellen making sure she couldn’t slip out to the cemetery again, and with her uncertain of whether she could even return to the future, she was stressed to the max! And now he wanted to court her?

She felt like smacking the seductive look right off his face. What she wanted was his assurance that when Edith showed up he wouldn’t like her better. A silly thing to worry about in light of everything else, but there it was.

What she wanted was the assurance that he’d choose her, Gillian, over Edith if given the chance, even without a dowry, even without Lord Corbett as her father. What had he said the day she’d arrived? That he’d stick her in the dungeon or hang her as a spy if she didn’t turn out to be Edith?

Gillian gave a slight laugh and a shake of her head. She had other things to worry about right now besides being courted.

“Fine. Whatever. Give it your best shot, big guy.”

In the meantime, she had some planning to do.

***

As Gillian approached the long table the next morning, Kellen rubbed his sweaty palms against his tunic, then fingered the pouch at his waist. It felt heavy, but that was no doubt his imagination as the gold bracelet, set with pearls and sapphires, did not weigh much at all.

He had retrieved it from the blacksmith early that morn. The man had worked the night through to craft the piece and, though not an artisan, had done a credible job. The sapphires, shining brightly between the pearls, reminded Kellen of Gillian’s eyes. He also had gems he could gift her to decorate her gowns, or they could be made into jewelry if it so pleased her.

He tried to decide whether to give them all to her at once, or to keep some back so as to have more to offer later. The decision was easy. He’d spread them out and thus have more opportunities for gratitude coming his way.

He stood as she neared, as did Tristan and Owen, but while the other men easily exchanged greetings with her, Kellen swallowed a few times and could feel sweat slicking his back.
He could do this. He could court Gillian without mucking it up.

Gillian stopped in front of him. “You’ve assigned guards to follow me?” He finally noted the scowl on her face as she threw both hands in the air. “Really, Kellen?”

He took a breath. “’Tis for your safety. A good morn to you, my lady.”

Gillian took a seat on the bench. “Good morning. All I’m saying is I just don’t think it’s necessary.”

Kellen resumed his seat. “Regardless, you will humor me.”

Cook brought food and, bushy brows drawn together over a red face, mumbled to herself.
“I should like to see them try it again. Poisoning my food and killing my friends? Threatening my lord and lady thus? I will deliver it my own self and see if they dare such trickery again.”
She left the food and a somber mood as she marched back to the kitchen.

“I will try it first.” Kellen picked up a piece of bread and took a large bite.

Gillian reached for a different slice. “Don’t think I don’t know why you’re so willing to put your life on the line. You just took the best piece.”

When she winked at him, Kellen laughed and finally relaxed a bit. “You know me well, my lady.” He considered how to gift her the bracelet, how to charm her. He would chat with her, put her at ease, have more of her smiles, then give her the gift. “I trust you slept well?”

Gillian didn’t answer, didn’t seem to hear, only stared across the table and over Tristan’s shoulder at the stone wall behind him.

“Gillian?”

Her head jerked and she looked down at the piece of bread in her hand as if surprised to see it. “Hmm?”

“Did you sleep well?”

“What? Oh, yes. Thank you.”

“You look beautiful this day.”

Her attention was caught by Marissa and her ladies joining them and he wasn’t sure if Gillian heard his compliment over their chatter. What he really needed was to get her alone and have all her attention to himself. “I would be most grateful if you could find the time to walk—”

“Lady Gillian, you must tell us about Laird MacGregor,” Lady Yvonne interrupted. “Is he as fierce as they say?”

Lady Vera seated herself and leaned forward. “Was he handsome?”

Gillian shrugged. “He had hair all over his face, and he’s pretty wild looking, so it’s hard to say if he was handsome or not. He’s big and strong like Kellen and I thought he was nice enough. We had a pleasant conversation in his tent, and he was a perfect gentleman the whole time I was there.”

The two ladies exchanged a look and giggled.

Kellen’s fists clenched and he snorted. “Would that I had killed him when I had the chance.”

Gillian turned to see his expression, laughed, and touched his arm. “Are you jealous? That’s so sweet.”

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. She found him sweet when he
was not
trying.

“His men seemed a bit superstitious,” said Gillian. “They actually thought I was a witch.”

“A witch?” Kellen thumped his fist on the table. “Would that I had killed them
all
when I had the chance.” As he’d hoped, Gillian laughed again and he reached for his pouch. With her laughing, cheerful, and looking at him thus, now would be the perfect opportunity to gift her the bracelet.

“We buried Frederick yesterday,” said Marissa. “In a place of honor.”

Kellen’s hand dropped away. Or not.

Gillian’s brows furrowed. “In the cemetery up the hill?”

Marissa nodded. “Aye.”

“I’d like to go and pay my respects today,” said Gillian.

Marissa waved a hand. “There is no need. My ladies and I stood for our family.”

Gillian placed her hand on Kellen’s arm. “I insist. He died protecting us.”

Kellen placed a hand over hers. “That he did. Do you really want to disrespect him by placing yourself in danger? When I have discovered the villain who is throwing knives and poison about, you shall have more freedom. You may pay your respects then.”

“But—”

“Frederick would be the first to agree.”

Gillian searched his face, scowled, then shot a glare at Tristan and Owen, who murmured their agreement from across the table. She looked down at the trencher in front of her.

“Come, Gillian. Let us have no hard feelings between us this day.”

“You keep forgetting that
I’m
the one who owns
you
, not the other way around.”

Amused by her crossness, by the reminder of the day they had met, Kellen smiled. “I wholeheartedly agree. I am yours.”

Gillian looked at him, her eyelids fluttered, and she glanced away. “Then take me to the cemetery.”

Kellen sighed. She was like a dog with a bone. “I will send villagers to look for the missing bracelet. If it is there, they will find it.”

He’d thought to please her, but she continued to frown. He reached for his pouch, sure he had something to put a smile on her face.

Tristan slapped the table. “I have no doubt ’tis the mangy, puking, Scots scum who are responsible for Frederick’s death.”

“What think you, my lord?” asked Owen. “You spoke to their laird. Did you sense the Scots are behind the attacks?”

All eyes turned to Kellen and, with a sigh, he dropped the bracelet back into the pouch. Why could they not discuss such matters when Gillian was not about?

“I cannot see them trying to slay Gillian. Kidnap her? Aye. Ransom her? Most assuredly. But poison? Murder? Nay. There is no point to it. But it would be easier were it the case, because the thought of one of my own doing the deed sits ill.”

Everyone went silent, and Gillian placed her hand on Kellen’s arm and rubbed it for a moment. At her softening, he thought to get her alone, to give her the gift in private and perhaps earn a kiss or two. “Would you care to take a turn about the orchard?”

Sir Owen cleared his throat. “Do you forget we hunt this day?”

Gillian looked to Sir Owen, then back. “You’re going hunting?”

“Aye,” said Sir Tristan. “‘Twill be great sport.”

Kellen shot a glare in his direction. “We go because we need the meat, and to train the men. ’Tis of necessity, not for the sport of it.”

Gillian’s brows drew together. “If you’re leaving anyway, why can’t you just drop me off at—”

“
You
, however, are to stay here.”

“So you get to go out, but I don’t? That is so unfair! You were targeted for poison too, you know.”

Kellen sighed. So much for any kisses coming his way. He shot Tristan a glare that promised retribution as he cast about for another subject. “No doubt you have much planning still to do for the wedding?”

When her eyes narrowed, he stood. Forget trying for charm, at this point he would go for appeasement. With fumbling hands, he pulled out the bracelet and set it in front of Gillian on the table. “A betrothal gift for you.”

It suddenly occurred to him he didn’t want her thinking it had been Catharine’s. “It did not belong to my first wife. I commissioned the blacksmith to create it especially for you. I chose the sapphires as they are the color of your eyes.”

The ladies leaned forward for a better look, but Gillian just stared at it, her face expressionless. Kellen could feel himself start to sweat again. “Do you not like it?”

She bit her lip, then slowly looked up. “You have to marry me, right? Because you need more land, more money and an heir. Would any of my . . . um . . . sisters . . . have been just as good?”

Kellen’s mouth parted.
“Nay!”
The last thing he wanted was Gillian believing such. He truly wanted none but her.

Wishing they were alone, Kellen spared a quick glance at their audience, but there was no hope for it. He could not leave Gillian believing such nonsense. “More land means more opportunity for my knights, my dependants, and someday, for our children. So, aye, the dowry you bring will be of much benefit to all. Those are the reasons I have to marry you.”

Gillian nodded and looked down at her hands as Tristan and Owen frantically motioned him to cease talking.

Kellen sank to the bench and took her hand. “But now let me tell you the reasons I want to marry you.” He gently squeezed her fingers. “Your sweetness, intelligence, and playfulness. The way I cannot help but smile when you are about. Your willingness to argue with me which tells me that, despite my size, you know I would never harm you, which I would not. Your kindness and humor.” He cleared his throat as it started to close. “The way you returned my daughter to me.”

She finally looked up, her gaze questioning.

He shook his head.
“You
are the reason I want to marry you. You alone.”