The Knight and the Dove (46 page)

“Go to your room. I’ll see to this.”

Megan didn’t hesitate. She heard Bracken’s voice somewhere behind her, but she nearly ran from the hall without looking at anyone.

Megan would have given anything not to have it come to this point, but she hadn’t known what else to do. She told herself she was not going to cry, but the effort caused her to stand trembling alone in her room for an hour.

It was at that time that Bracken came. Megan turned from the window to watch him approach, but when he tried to take her into his arms, Megan stumbled away.

“Don’t touch me, Bracken.” The tears would hold no longer. “I can’t stand for you to touch me until I understand what has happened between us.”

“Megan.” Bracken’s voice was pained and he tried again, but still she resisted him.

“No, Bracken, I mean it,” she cried. “You said you would never let me be hurt again, but now something has made you hate me, and until I understand I don’t want you to—”

She stopped when he pursued her into the salon. Megan tried to evade him, but Bracken caught her in his arms in just seconds. Megan cried and shoved against his chest, but to no avail. Bracken lifted her high in his arms, sat in a large chair by the fire and placed Megan in his lap. Megan worked with all of her might to get away from him, but he would have none of it.

She eventually cried against his chest until she lay spent and silent. The past days, the morning’s ordeal with Lyndon and then Marigold, and the torrent of tears, had all worked their way. Megan could not have moved if she tried. Bracken dipped his head to see if she slept, but only found her staring vacantly across the room.

“Your sister is gone,” he began softly, his heart beating under Megan’s ear. “I sent Arik with you and did not accompany you myself because I feared I would strike Marigold. Now I wish that I had. Arik is at this time berating himself for not seeing her intent. He blames himself that you were hurt.”

Bracken dipped his head again. Although Megan had not moved, there was now a tiny spark of life in her eyes.

“I have much to tell you, Megan, but not now, not while you are worn and upset. I want you to go to bed. When you awaken, we’ll talk.”

Bracken dipped his head one last time, and this time Megan looked at him. Bracken held her eyes for the space of several heartbeats before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her forehead. He lifted her then, walked into her bedchamber, placed her on the bed, and bent over her.

“I’ll send Helga to you. When you have rested and feel better— maybe after you have had a hot bath—then send for me. I wish to speak with you.”

Megan managed a small nod, and Bracken stood a moment longer.

“As for the charge that I hate you, Megan, nothing could be further from the truth.”

With that he was gone, and moments later Helga appeared. She helped a silent Megan from her gown and settled her comfortably back in bed. Even after her mistress slept, Helga sat nearby sewing and keeping watch over her charge.

Megan awakened feeling much better and was greatly refreshed after her bath. She did not send for Bracken as he’d directed but sought him out herself. He was at the new byre. When Megan learned of this, she was tempted to return to the castle but made herself carry on. She found Bracken walking through the byre inspecting every square inch. Megan stood for a time and watched him, but as soon as he noticed her, he stopped what he was doing and approached.

Dark eyes searched her face for signs of fatigue or pain, but he must have been satisfied with what he saw for he nodded slowly and said, “Will you walk with me?”

“Certainly.”

They were quiet until some distance outside the walls, and then Megan said softly, “I am sorry about the byre, Bracken. ’Twas never my intent to deceive you.”

“I realize that, Megan. I completely overreacted.”

“So, you’re not angry?”

“No. I did think it would be best to leave it where it was, but I can see now that our first location is a fine one.”

Megan was so relieved that for a time she fell silent. “When do you go again?”

“Go again?”

Megan looked at him. “Yes. I was under the impression that you would only be home for a short time.”

Bracken shook his head. “I know of no such plan. I will be here.” Megan nodded.

“Does that disappoint you?” Bracken tried to hide his dread of her answer.

“Oh, no, Bracken.” Her eyes were wide. “I missed you.”

“I missed you also.”

Again they fell silent. To be parted from a new spouse for weeks was no easy thing, but to return as they had, under such stress and strife, was very difficult indeed.

“I’m sorry about your sister.”

“Thank you, Bracken. I fear she will never change.”

“She is a vile woman.”

Megan had no choice but to agree.

“I am glad you are nothing like her.”

“She told me that you asked her to come to your room.”

Bracken turned and gripped her shoulders. “Did you believe her?”

“No,” Megan said softly. “She has always been full of lies, and I know you would not do such a thing.”

Bracken nodded and dropped his hands. Her words relieved him greatly.

“Was it difficult, your being away?” Megan asked.

Bracken began to share, his voice a bit quiet because he just realized how little they had talked, but he did tell Megan where he had been and the way they had lived. Bracken told how he had managed to visit his mother. He’d even seen Danella and her family for the first time in more than a year. Megan listened in silence to every detail.

“I met a man,” Bracken finished by saying. “His name is Trygve Osborn, Marquess of Overton. We worked and lived together all the time I was away, and I have come to greatly admire him. We spoke much of our families, and he said I was not treating you well.”

They had seated themselves under a tree now, and Megan’s eyes rounded. “But, Bracken, I do not know such a man.”

“I know, but he says he does not need to know you to know that I have treated you poorly.” Bracken hoped she would understand his meaning from these few words, but her look was as innocent as a child’s.

Bracken cleared his throat. “He and his wife, Ann, have been married for over ten years, but he also said that for months after the vows were spoken Ann would freeze at his touch.”

Bracken watched Megan’s eyes drop and her face flame. He opened his mouth to tell her he would try to be more understanding in the future, but she rushed in.

“I’m sorry, Bracken. Before we were married, I just didn’t know anything about the ways between a husband and wife, and oft times I am still not sure.”

Bracken’s pledge was momentarily forgotten. He stared at her bent head.

“Megan, what do you mean, you didn’t know anything?”

“I just didn’t. I think most girls talk to their mothers, but I was not with my mother, and the nuns never taught us. I am sorry I did not know and that I am still so ignorant.”

Bracken felt pain wash over him. She had been so innocent.

In truth, he was no more experienced than she, but he had had some idea of what marriage would bring.

“Oh, Megan,” Bracken said and reached for her hand. He felt her stiffen and watched as her eyes flew to his. He knew in that instant he was going to have to show and not tell her that he was ready to change. He could give her a promise right then, but without proof of his actions, she would never believe.

Bracken continued to hold her small hand as they talked, but Megan never did relax. Still, Bracken ignored her tension and kept his touch very light and tender. He wasn’t a man given to praying, but this was enough to make him want to drop to his knees and beg God to help him show Megan what was in his heart.

Thirty-Three

B
RACKEN WAS BEGINNING TO FEEL
like a spy. Since he had talked with Megan more than two weeks ago, he had worked at understanding women in general in order to gain a clearer picture of his wife. He had never studied the creatures before, and he was finding them fascinating. His greatest discovery was that they were so emotional. Bracken was a man of deep emotions, but he did not, as a rule, allow them to control him.

A few days past he’d watched a servant in the keep scolding a female underling concerning her shoddy work. What the servant said was true, but Bracken watched in amazement as great tears filled the young woman’s eyes and she went back to her task sniffing and blowing.

Bracken could only shake his head. It caused him to think about his own sisters and how remarkably different their interests had been from his own as they were growing up. Some of it had to do with age, but most of it was because of their gender. Bracken found himself asking why God hadn’t created women to be a little more like men.

It was at the moment that Megan sought him out, and Bracken found himself very thankful that they were so different. She had a question for Bracken, but he was so preoccupied with the woman herself that he could barely answer. Even without touching her, he knew her skin was like warm satin. The green velvet of her dress made her eyes the color of the forest on a spring day. Her sweetness and the very sound of her voice were like a web around him. He had managed to reply, but Megan had stared at him rather strangely.

Even though he desired to do so, Bracken had still not begun to show Megan his affection during the course of the day when she
needed it most. Still, he was learning plenty. Fortunately, for Bracken, spring was around the corner, and love was in the air. It was affecting the whole castle.

Right now he was watching Stafford and Pen. The two had been married for six months, and Pen still eagerly ran to embrace the young warrior every time she saw him.

He witnessed as Stafford placed an arm around Pen’s waist and with his free hand tenderly stroked her cheek. Even from a distance he could see her eyes soften before she placed a hand on the back of Stafford’s neck and brought his lips down to hers. They kissed briefly, and when Pen turned away, Stafford gave her a playful smack on the seat. From where Bracken stood he could hear the girl’s laugh. Bracken then turned to find Lyndon watching him as he studied Stafford.

“What is it, Lyndon?” Bracken’s voice was curt, but Lyndon couldn’t stop his smile.

“Bracken, what are you about?” he asked good-naturedly.

The duke hesitated. Lyndon had recently become betrothed; maybe he could help. He also knew Lyndon would never gossip the matter over the entire keep.