Rowan's Lady (20 page)

“May I have some time to think on it, me laird?”
she asked.

“Aye,” he said with a nod. “However, I fear ye may
no’ be able to say
no,
once ye see
Áit na Síochána.
It has a way
of stealin’ yer breath and yer heart at the same time,” he told her, flashing
that brilliant and perfect smile.

Much like the man who rules over it, she thought.

Castle
Áit na Síochána
lay on the horizon.
It was just as beautiful as Rowan had described and, as promised, its majesty
and beauty did take her breath away. The castle and the surrounding land were
magnificent. Translated,
Áit na Síochána
meant
Place of Peace.
Seeing
it now for the first time, Arline thought it a literal and honest description.

They had stopped at the top of the hill to gaze
down at
Áit na Síochána
. The road leading to the castle wound ever so
slightly, following the lay of the land. A few crofters’ huts were scattered
here and there on either side of the road. At the end stood the castle she had
heard so much about, first from Lily, then from Rowan.

Three stories tall, created out of large blocks of
gray limestone, it stood seemingly impenetrable at the edge of a very large
loch. The loch surrounded the castle on three sides. The only way in was the
road they travelled, or by boat.

A massive thick curtain wall spread from east to
west. Beyond that was another wall that surrounded the keep in its entirety.
Enormous square towers stood on each corner of the wall, towering high above
the keep itself.

“Ye didna exaggerate, Rowan!” Arline said
breathlessly. “It
is
beautiful.”

Rowan smiled in agreement. He had both arms
wrapped around Arline, who was holding a sleeping Lily in her arms. He gave
them both a gentle squeeze before giving a tap to move their horse forward.

They sped down the road quickly, with each of
Rowan’s men following close behind. The level of excitement amongst Rowan and
his men was palpable. They were glad to be home and Arline could see and sense
their excitement and relief.

That old familiar sensation of longing draped over
her heart again. She hadn’t felt at
home
in a very long time. The one
and only time she felt at peace or at home was when she was married to Carlich
Lindsay. That now seemed a lifetime ago.

She wondered if she would ever feel that way
again. Aye, Rowan had generously made her an offer to stay at
Áit na
Síochána
to be Lily’s governess but doubts about whether to accept that
offer or to turn it down lingered. Being Lily’s governess meant being in
constant contact with Rowan. It would help if he weren’t so decidedly handsome!

She’d been going back and forth between yes and no
since he’d made the offer. It wasn’t until she saw
Áit na Síochána
that
she made up her mind.

“Rowan,” she whispered over her shoulder. “I’ll
take ye up on yer offer to be Lily’s governess. I will give ye one month.”

He was glad she couldn’t see his face for she
would have seen the joy alight in his eyes. He was still uncertain where
exactly he wanted their friendship to lead him. All he knew with any amount of
certainty was that he did not want her to leave.

She had grown quiet and she looked distant and
removed. “Ye miss yer sisters.”

“Aye, I do. Verra much.” To say she missed them
was a tremendous understatement. But it went beyond just missing them. There
was still much guilt that she harbored over her father’s mistreatment of them.
Orthanach would never try to atone for his sins so Arline did her best to atone
on his behalf. Why her sisters should be punished for their father’s misdeeds
made no sense to her.

An idea began to form in Rowan’s mind. He
seriously doubted Arline would be able to live here beyond the month without
her sisters. They were a very important part of her life and even a fool could
see how much she loved them.

“I have another request, me lady.”

“Aye? And what would that be me laird?”

“One,” he whispered into her ear. “Ye quit with
the ‘me lairds’. I’m no’ a laird, I’m the chief of Clan Graham. Please, call me
Rowan. Everyone else calls me by me given name. I’d like ye to do the same.”

Arline felt her cheeks flush and grow warm. It
seemed a very personal thing to do, to call him by his given name. It had taken
the entire first year of her marriage to Carlich before she felt comfortable
enough to call him by his. Using first names bespoke of a certain level of
intimacy.

He
had
seen her half naked. He
had
touched
her bare skin -- albeit to look for injuries. Rowan Graham was the first man to
ever see bare skin below her décolletage. Supposing that was indeed a level of
intimacy, one she’d never had with any other man before, calling him by his
given name seemed appropriate under the circumstances.

“I agree,” she told him. “Is that all?”

“Nay,” he said. “I should like to see ye smile
more.”

Her brow knitted. The man was plainly daft,
evidenced in what she found to be a rather odd request. “Yer daft.”

He laughed at her. “I’ve been told that before.”

Soon, they reached the large wooden gate of the
outer wall. The four men standing atop it called down a welcome to Rowan and
the others as the gate opened. They rode in silence until they reached the
second wall and gate.

It flew open and loud cheers went up. Dozens of
people came rushing toward them, all calling out to Rowan and the men. Arline
took note of the relieved and happy faces of Rowan’s people.

Lily woke to the cheerful noise, sat up, threw
back the fur that covered her head and looked about. “We’re home!” she
exclaimed gleefully.

Before Arline realized what was happening, someone
grabbed Lily down and enveloped her in a big hug, whisking her into the keep.
“I think they be glad to see us, lass,” Rowan whispered into her ear.

He swung himself down from their mount only to be
assaulted by crying women fighting for a chance to hug him and men slapping
hands on his back and arms. Arline had never witnessed such a thing as this
before. Stunned by the outward displays of emotion, she sat rigid on the back
of the horse. For a brief moment, she thought of stealing Rowan’s horse and
fleeing.

Rowan did not give her time to escape. His hands
were around her waist and lifting her down to stand beside him before she could
blink.

“Selina!” Rowan called out as he took Arline’s
hand in his and led her up the steps of the keep. As they reached the entrance
a young lass of no more than seven and ten pushed her way through the crowd.

“Selina!” Rowan called out again, greeting the
young woman with a smile as he gently grabbed her arm. With Arline on one arm
and Selina on the other, he pushed his way through the crowd.

Carefully, he guided them down the steps that led
to a large and immaculate gathering room. Massive chandeliers hung from the
beamed ceiling. Two equally massive fireplaces mirrored each other on opposite
walls. Over each mantle hung the Graham rampant with two crossed broadswords.

Several women stood near the fireplace to Arline’s
left and they were all taking turns hugging Lily. “Och, lassie!” one of the
older women said. “We be so glad to have ye home!”

Lily was all smiles and seemed quite happy with
the attention being given her.

“Are ye hurt, lassie?” An older, short, stout
woman with her gray hair in a loose bun at the nape of her neck asked.

“Nay,” Lily told her. “I was verra scared though.
But Lady Arline took verra good care of me!”

Arline was not given much time to take it all in.
Without knowing who it was that had aided in Lily’s kidnapping, she did not
feel she could trust anyone just yet.

 “Selina, this be Lady Arline.” Rowan smiled as he
introduced the two women, pulling Arline’s attention away from Lily.

“Lady Arline, this be Selina. Selina, I want ye to
take verra good care of Lady Arline. Give her my mother’s auld room, see to it
that she has as many baths as she wants. And find the healer to tend to her
injuries.” Rowan was rattling off orders in such a rapid succession that Arline
found it difficult to keep up.

“I should see that Lily is settled first, Rowan,”
Arline interjected.

Rowan stopped, tilted his head slightly and stared
at her as if she were some curious new being he’d never seen before. “Nay,
lass. There are plenty of people here to see to Lily’s needs. Ye need to see to
yer own first.”

Arline stepped closer, tugged on his tunic so that
he would bend low. Whispering in his ear, she said, “But Rowan, did ye no’ say
that ye have no idea who helped aid in Lily’s kidnappin’? What if they try
again?”

Rowan smiled and gave Arline a pat on her
shoulder. “Lass, I have me most trusted men, Frederick and Daniel, guardin’ me
daughter.”

“But I’d feel better if --”

Rowan cut her off before she could continue her
protests. “Arline,
I’ll
be guardin’ her as well.”

He watched as Arline’s shoulders sagged with
relief and it made him smile all the more. “Now, ye go with Selina. She’ll see
that yer settled. We’ll talk later, after the evenin’ meal.”

He turned then to Selina. “I want ye to take verra
good care of Lady Arline. She took verra good care of me daughter and I owe her
much fer that. She’s been through quite an ordeal these past days. See if ye
can find some dresses fer her and if ye canna find them, make them.”

“I’ll take good care of her, Rowan, I promise!”

Just as Selina took Arline’s arm to take her away,
a woman’s voice called out from somewhere behind them.

Arline turned to see a beautiful woman with raven
black hair descend the staircase. She wore a magnificent gown made of burgundy
damask that trailed down the stairs behind her. The dress clung to her almost
like a second skin. And she showed more bosom than Lady Arline could ever hope
to own.

Even if she had not been covered from head to toe
in mud, muck, grime and berry juice, Arline would still have felt just as
inadequate as she now did. The woman was stunning, elegant, graceful.

The woman ignored Lily and the women fawning over
her, did not so much as give them a nod of her head. She came straight to Rowan.

“Rowan! Och! I was so worried over ye!”

When the woman flung her arms around Rowan’s neck,
Arline wanted nothing more than to pull out every last strand of her raven
black hair. She pulled the feeling back quickly. She knew she had no claim to
any man, let alone Rowan Graham.

Rowan’s face held an odd expression. One of
frustration blended with confusion. “Beatrice,” he said as he pulled her arms
way and took a step back. “Why are ye still here? I thought ye were goin’ to
Edinburgh?”

Beatrice stuck her bottom lip out, as if she were
wounded and hurt. Most men might have found that pouting lip quite attractive.
Rowan wasn’t most men.

“I could no’ have left ye in yer time of need! I
was so worried over ye that I delayed me trip. Fer ye, Rowan.” Her voice was as
smooth as silk as she batted her lashes up at Rowan.

Rowan raised his voice. “Lady Beatrice of
Cill
Saidhe,
” he said as he stepped toward Arline. “This be Lady Arline.” He
smiled proudly down at Arline. “She helped to care fer Lily.”

Beatrice stepped forward and gave Arline an
elegant curtsey. “’Tis me pleasure, me lady.”

Although Beatrice curtsied elegantly and made a
grand attempt at being congenial, Arline caught a glimmer of something in the
woman’s eyes. Arline also took note that not once since entering the room, did
the woman ask after Lily.

“Me lady,” Arline said, returning the curtsey.

There was something about this woman that Arline
disliked. Mayhap it was the fact that the woman was stunningly beautiful, with
a gown anyone would be envious of and perfectly kempt hair, all of which made
Arline feel even more lacking than she usually felt. Mayhap, Arline thought,
she was simply exhausted and had jumped to a conclusion about the woman. Or,
more likely than not, it was the way the woman draped herself around Rowan that
made her want to scratch those beautiful blue eyes right out of their sockets.

Sleep. Arline thought. I just need a bath and
sleep. Yer bein’ ridiculous. The woman has done nothin’ to deserve yer
rudeness!

“’Tis me pleasure as well, me lady,” Arline said,
forcing a smile to her lips.

“Yer Garrick Blackthorn’s wife, are ye no’?”
Beatrice asked.

Her question, though hidden behind a veil of
politeness, made the hair on the back of Arline’s neck stand. “Nay, I am no
longer married to Garrick Blackthorn.”

Beatrice was stunned by the news. She pressed her
delicate fingertips to her neck. “Nay? Be he dead?”

Arline stood straighter and thrust out her chin.
“Nay, he is no’.”

Confusion and curiosity lit behind Beatrice’s
eyes. “Then, how --”

Rowan did not allow Beatrice to finish her
question. “Beatrice, now is no’ the time.” He did not want to bring any further
embarrassment to Arline. She certainly did not need to be interrogated by
Beatrice.

“Selina,” Rowan began. “Please take Lady Arline
above stairs as we discussed.”

Selina gave a quick curtsy and pulled Arline away.
Arline waited until they were out of earshot of the rest of the gathering room
before asking about the beautiful Lady Beatrice. “Who is that woman?”

Selina’s smile quickly evaporated. She cast a
quick look over her shoulder at the woman in question. “Lady Beatrice?”

“Aye, Lady Beatrice.”

Selina cleared her throat before answering. “She
be a friend of Rowan’s.”

Friend? That could be taken any number of
different ways. From the expression on Selina’s face, the term was probably the
most polite way of describing her as Rowan’s lover. The thought made her heart
feel tight, constricted.