Son of the Morning (54 page)

"Ye've told her everything?" Robert asked disapprovingly.

"Nay, she already knew." Niall reached back and made certain Grace was still modestly tucked behind him. "Would ye like wine?"

Robert began to laugh. "Ye rogue," he said with exasperated fondness. "Ye kill a clan chieftain, decimate the clan, and ask me would I like wine? The nobles are demanding that I raise an army to rid Scotland of the renegades of Creag Dhu."

"Huwe attacked
me,"
Niall said, his voice hardening. "And I freed all those Hays who survived the battle,"

"Aye, I know. I came only to ask - to beg, and me a king! - that ye try not to shed more blood for a time,"

"If 'tis in my power, I'll live a verra peaceful life from this day onward," Niall said. "Will ye wish me happiness?"

"Always." Robert stepped forward and hugged his brother, and the glimpse Grace had of his face made her love him forever, for it was filled with love and an aching relief. He winked at her over Niall's shoulder, and she blushed again.

"Can ye speak, lass?" he asked. "Yes, of course," she said, pleased that her voice was steady. "I'm pleased to meet you-" She stopped, suddenly unsure of what to call him. Sire? Your Highness? Your Majesty?

"Robert," said the king. "With family, I am Robert." He cocked his head. "Your accent is strange, not English, and not French either. Where are ye from?"

"Creag Dhu," Niall said firmly. "This is her home." Robert nodded, accepting that here would be yet another mystery about his brother. "When did ye wed?"

"Today." "Today!" Robert laughed again. "Then there's no wonder ye had the lass half naked on your lap! I'll leave ye to your wedding night, then, and may ye enjoy it well!"

"I will," Niall said firmly. "As soon as ye leave." Robert was still laughing as he stepped back into the hidden passage, though he tried to muffle the noise. Grace watched as the section closed behind him. "Just how many hidden passageways does Creag Dhu have?"

"It's fair riddled with them," Niall replied, lifting her in his arms and carrying her to the bed. He lay down beside her, cradling her close against his side as if he would never let her go. "Ye feel so perfect," he whispered into her hair. As if ye are part of me, as if ye could be nowhere else."

"I don't want to be anywhere else." "Then tomorrow morning, love, I think I should write those papers that brought ye to me. I dinna want to chance anything going wrong." He put his hand on her belly, where his child grew, and held her close as they slept, and dreamed.