Circle of Honor (16 page)

No wonder Nathara felt possessive of the handsome young laird. She'd saved his life. “Nathara did an excellent job—the muscle has healed well. And I've seen you fight.”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “When?”

Gwenyth smoothed her skirt before admitting, “I can see the lists from my room. Even with your arm, you fight better than many men.”

He studied her. “You're quick to come to my defense.”

“You have earned my admiration.”

“Then I'm a lucky man.”

Gwenyth felt her face grow warm. She changed the subject. “So, this Suisan withdrew from the betrothal?”

“There was little hope I would survive, and I must have been frightful to look at. Suisan might have honored her promise, given a bit of time, but her uncle married her off quickly.”

“And you are convinced she rejected you because you aren't a whole man.”

“You don't believe that?”

“Nay, I don't,” she said with conviction.

He was quiet for several minutes. “Her uncle is Leod Macpherson.”

“Oh. Oh, my. Leod used her to weaken your claim.”

Adam lifted his hand from the business with the now banished cocklebur. “Aye, this didn't start with you, Gwenyth. It's been coming for some time.”

Gwenyth stared at him, curiosity aroused. “Why are you telling me all of this?”

“Angus wanted you to know.”

To know what?
A feeling of unease stole over her. The feeling that she stood on the edge of that chasm again and Adam intended to suggest she jump. “For what purpose?”

He squirmed and avoided her gaze.

“Why do I need to know these things about your past?” she gently urged.

“Suisan's defection turned out to be a good thing. Her rejection angered me and gave me a purpose and drove me to become well. For that, I'm grateful to her.”

“And what would you have me do?” Another step closer to the edge.

Adam placed his fingers on her chin and raised her face to his. “You have been the victim of violence, as have I. I have prayed about it and I would have you be my true wife. I think we are well-suited.”

She pulled away from his touch, even though she knew he wouldn't harm her. But his request was anything but harmless. The chasm seemed to open at her feet. She jumped up, moving away from Adam. “You are asking me to make the marriage real?”

He rose as well, more slowly. After a few moments, moments in which her heart thudded crazily, he asked, “Would that be so awful?”

No. Yes.
Her hands fluttered, and she grabbed the material of her skirt to still them. “You are bold, Adam. Have you no care for my feelings?”

“Aye, lass, I do. You've been deeply wounded. The right man could help you heal. I have prayed on it and I believe this may be God's plan for us.”

“But—”

“You don't believe that God brought us together for a reason?”

“I . . . yes, I have had that same notion. But I believe he just wants us to heal each other before we part.”

“Why? Do you find me repugnant?”

“Nay, of course not. You are not offensive, my laird. I simply cannot be a wife.”

“You wouldn't enjoy caring for a home and overseeing the running of this castle?”

“As if your mother would allow it.” She found it difficult to harden her heart against him, despite her need to leave and move forward with the plans that Leod had interrupted.

Adam grinned. “Well, that is a difficulty to be handled with care. But she would yield to my wife, did I have one truly.”

He untied the horses and gave her the lead to hers. They walked slowly back toward the castle, horses following behind.

“Why are you pursuing this?” she asked. “You know nothing about me.”

“I know you've no dowry, you trapped me into handfasting, and, saved my life. You're a poor prospect for a bride, Gwenyth of Buchan. Still, I would know—what if we had met under more auspicious circumstances? What then? Would you still find me repugnant as a husband?”

“You are not repugnant.”

“Ah, but I'm scarred and damaged. You would pass me by, no doubt.”

She gave him a weak smile. Evidently the earlier rejection by his betrothed still pained him, if he pushed her so to confirm what he so falsely believed about himself. How could he think that no woman would want him? But weren't she and Adam alike in this regard? Hadn't she wondered if Edward would still want her when he learned she was no longer an innocent maid?

Edward with his ambitions—which would be more important to him? Her emotional and physical well-being or her worth as a political pawn?

She looked at Adam, his beautiful hands, the blue eyes and curling blond hair, the handsome features of his face. She would want him if Leod hadn't ruined her very soul with his cruelty. Surely there would be no harm in admitting her own shortcomings in order to save this gentle man's ego.

“Are you searching for a compliment, my laird?”

“I would have the truth.”

“You have a fine manly form and a good heart. A normal woman would be a fool to turn you away. But, I—”

Tears welled and she dashed them away, angry that she should lose control when she'd sworn she wouldn't. But here was this wonderful man, hurting every bit as much as she did, no doubt wondering why his charms failed to heal her. But they did heal. They most certainly did.

They stopped walking and he wiped her tears with his thumb. “There now, lass. I'm sorry to make you cry.” He pulled her into his embrace, and she allowed it, surprised at how comforting it felt. When she had calmed, he cupped her chin, lifting it until her gaze met his.

“Gwenyth.” He caressed her jaw with his thumb. “Surely you know that what happened to you is not how it is when a man and a woman care for each other.”

Amazed that he turned away from his own need so easily to tend to her, she said, “I know no such thing.”

“Then let me assure you that what you experienced is not natural. It was violent and had nothing to do with tender feelings.”

“You are only saying so to convince me to give in to you.”

His jaw clenched, and she knew she made him angry. Yet his reply was calm, reproachful. “I will admit that the thought of . . . well, let's just say that the thought of you occupies far too much of my time lately.”

She gasped and tried to pull away, but he held her firmly and with care.

“Gwenyth, I would be a fool to give you my heart when you are so set on leaving.”

“Give your heart?”

“Ah, dear one. You see, you know nothing of the bond that can be created between lovers.”

“Can be? It isn't always so?”

“There is always a bond formed. The question is, how strong and enduring is it? 'Tis a gamble I'll not risk without God's blessing. So, you see, you are safe with me.”

If only she could believe that was true.

Gwenyth was touched by his admission of his need to be loved for himself, and not for his title. A need made all the more important for his physical limitations. She wished she could be that woman for him.

Now where had that thought come from? Shaking her head at the absurdity of such a notion, she said, “I have brought you nothing but problems, my laird. We must both pray Daron is soon found.”

“I'm not altogether certain I want to give you up.”

She swallowed. “You will have to, my lord.”

“If you truly cannot abide a marriage with me, so be it. But I ask you to think on it. Perhaps pray on it as well.”

Pray on it? “God doesn't hear my prayers anymore.” If Adam knew the truth about her, he wouldn't ask this. How much longer could she live the lies? And did she want to? “You want me to stay. But I can't.”

“Why not?”

There was no bridge to span the distance between her and Adam. “I've made a promise I must keep.”

“To Daron?”

“Aye.” And Edward and all those who supported a marriage between them which would unite half of Scotland against Bruce.

“Fine. Go with your cousin. But while you are here, remember you promised me your loyalty.” He turned from her and briskly rebridled the horses, then lifted her into the saddle. They rode the short distance to the causeway in silence.

Gwenyth could not believe what she heard in his voice when he spoke of Daron. Anger at her rejection, yes. But surely he'd sounded jealous. Jealous of Daron. Oh, this had gone on long enough. If Daron didn't materialize within the week, she would ask Adam to provide an escort. She must leave Moy before she hurt this man who'd done nothing to deserve it.

Inside the bailey they halted the horses. Adam reached to help her dismount and she fought the urge to avoid his touch. Adam took her elbow, guiding her into the keep. “Come.”

She resisted the instinct to pull away from him.

“Since your cousin continues to elude me, you best reconcile yourself to spending a while longer at Moy.” He sounded as if he hoped Daron would remain lost. “You will take your meals in the hall from now on.”

With that, he strode away from her, taking all the warmth of the day with him. Something about his vulnerability, his need to be accepted, drew Gwenyth. Here was a just man, a well-favored man who, through an unfortunate accident, must prove what he'd always taken for granted. That he could rule his clan.

Her only hope was that Daron would come for her to set sail for England on the next available ship. But the more she considered the meeting between her cousin and her husband, the more she despaired. For then Adam would learn the truth and the depth of her deceit.

His words, the idea that she might remain at Moy, were both a source of comfort and pain. She felt safe with Adam, dared to dream of Moy as her home. Dared to consider that maybe Adam and Moy were God's plan, as Adam said. Until obligations reminded her of the impossibility of such a notion. Her father would roll over in his very grave if she were to swear allegiance to the man who killed him. And that is what marriage to Adam would mean.

She must not forget her father's death at the hands of Robert the Bruce or the terrible carnage Bruce had waged in Buchan. All those deaths and the destruction of her home must not go unanswered. She and Edward would reclaim what Bruce had taken from them. And Robert the Bruce would regret he'd ever set foot in that church.

TWELVE

G
WENYTH WENT TO HER ROOM to wash and change clothes and bring her emotions under control. How could she possibly accept Adam's daft notion that God had brought them together to be man and wife? If marriage to Adam was part of God's plan, then his timing was all wrong. She and Adam should have met before Edward had made his claim on her.

Why would God pick a man whose clan and king were her enemies? It didn't make sense.

Remembering Adam's order, she made her way to the great hall to eat the evening meal with the rest of the castle inhabitants. She wanted to arrive early, hoping to draw as little attention as possible to herself. A few who were already seated cast glances at her, but most ignored her, and she relaxed.

Until she saw Nathara seated across the hall and glowering at her. Gwenyth quickly turned her head, her eyes downcast as she walked the rest of the way to the dais. A hushed silence alerted her before she walked into Adam. She looked up as he extended his hand to her.

“Come,” he said. “I should have done this long before now.”

He tugged on her hand, and she rose to her feet as panic set in. “My people need to be clear about my will in this matter.”

She looked to Nathara and back to Adam. “Please, my laird. Nathara already hates me. I need no more enemies.”

Adam glanced at the dais and said, “My food grows cold.” He indicated for a serving girl to bring food for Gwenyth and gently nudged Gwenyth into motion.

“Why are you doing this?”

He leaned down to whisper, “I told you. I believe God means us to stay together. If I am wrong, there's no harm done if you sit here with me. You will be safer if Nathara and others see that I accept you as wife.” When they reached their seats, he lifted her hand to his lips, and she felt her face grow warm.

“And you need your people to believe our marriage is agreeable to strengthen your position as laird.”

“Aye. Exactly so.”

Adam seated her, then called for attention. Every eye in the place looked to him as he spoke.

“You have heard that Gwenyth of Buchan and I were forced to handfast. Despite those circumstances, we will use the allotted time to see if the marriage suits us. I ask you to continue to treat her with the respect due her position.”

His glance around the room settled on Nathara, and he stared at her until she gave him a slight, forced nod. Then Adam sat down and the meal continued, though Gwenyth was uncomfortably aware that the buzz of conversation that ensued no doubt centered on her.

Gwenyth excused herself as soon as she could and fled to her room.

We will use the allotted time.
Adam's words haunted her. To learn what he promised to teach about tenderness—yes, it held definite appeal. Throw off her responsibilities; subdue the guilt of having survived when her family had not.

Dare she ask God for guidance? Did she really want to know his will? Could she trust him to know what was best for her? There were no easy answers.

How could she even think of remaining in the same country, let alone binding herself to a man loyal to the very king who'd killed her father, on a sacred altar, no less?

Only Edward, with the backing of those loyal to him and his father, could possibly take the crown from Bruce. Bruce had no heir other than his brother, and the Comyns hoped that her marriage to Edward Balliol would avenge the wrongs done to her family and return the crown to them. She had only to marry and produce an heir, and those who remained loyal to Edward would rally to depose Bruce.