Rowan's Lady (31 page)

“Handsome?” she pretended to think on it fer a
time. “Nay, I didna think him
handsome
. But he was a verra nice man.”

Frederick and Daniel chimed in, evidently not
liking the bland manner in which Arline told the story.

“Handsome or nay,” Frederick said, “the truth of
it is that the box and the letters were found. And Lady Arline stood in a room
filled with hundreds of people and told the truth. She named the true traitors
and Angus and Duncan were spared.”

“It wasn’t
hundreds,
Frederick. More like a
few dozen.”

“It was a
lot
of people, me lady. Ye may
no’ have notice fer ye were busy keepin’ the nooses from goin’ around Angus and
Duncan’s necks.”

Arline gave him a warm smile, much like a mother
would to a child when she knew that child was exaggerating. “Be that as it
may,”

Frederick leapt to his feet, “Be that as it may,
ye saved two innocent men from hangin’ that day.”

Arline looked up at him, shielded the sun from her
eyes with a hand. “We
all
saved two innocent men from hangin’ that day.
I didna do it alone. Were it no’ fer ye and Frederick, and yer brother and all
the other men who made sure I got to Stirling alive, well, the outcome would
have been quite different.”

“What happened to the traitors?” another of the
men asked. “Who were they?”

This was the part of the story that Arline did not
like to think or speak about. Her smile faded away and she looked sad. “They
hanged them the next day.”

“Who were they?” the man repeated his question.

Arline took a deep breath and looked away from the
people. “The son and grandson of me husband.”

Several gasps cut through the silence. Rowan
studied the crowd then. The women looked genuinely concerned for Arline, as if
they understood the pain she must have gone through. The men looked at her with
admiration. Even Thomas’ expression showed he was rather impressed with her.

Lady Arline had shown her fealty and loyalty to
Scotland by telling the truth, even when it cost the lives of her husband’s son
and grandson.

“Did ye ken they were the traitors? Yer stepson
and grandson I mean?” One of the men asked in a low tone.

“Aye, I did,” Arline answered.

“What did their da think of ye then?”

“’Twas their da who confided the truth in me.
’Twas he who asked me to go to Stirling and seek out Robert Stewart and tell
him the truth.” Arline turned to face the onlookers. “I had no choice in the
matter. I could no’ let two innocent men hang for the crimes of others, even if
the traitors were me family. ’Twas the right thing to do.”

The breeze picked up for a moment, caressing the
skin of all those in attendance. As the zypher brushed over the tall brown
grass, it made a soft, gentle, swooshing sound. For a moment, Rowan could have
sworn it was the sound of a hundred people saying
aye.

When Garrick Blackthorn had learned that three of
his men were dead and his former wife was not, he had turned violent with rage.
With his dagger, he had sliced away three fingers from the hand of the man who
had delivered the news. Tables and chairs in the gathering room had been
upturned and destroyed. By his order, everything in Arline’s room had been
taken outside and burned, from her belongings she left behind to the bed she
had slept in. Nothing had been spared.

He took his displeasure out on anyone who was
stupid enough to get near him, from kitchen maid to trusted advisor, no one was
safe from his fury.

Save for his Ona.

Ona. Ona was the only source of light in his
otherwise dark and disturbed world. There was nothing he would or could deny
her. She had a good heart, his Ona. He knew it was
her
fault that his
former wife still lived, for it had been Ona who had convinced him to spare her
life. Ona believed that it was not Arline’s fault that she and Garrick been kept
from marrying for more than a year. Nay, that was his father’s fault.

Ona never begged, never pleaded, never gave
ultimatums, never batted her eyelashes or used seduction to get what she wanted
from Garrick. She only needed to ask.

Ona was his only addiction. He craved her, needed
her as much as he needed air. She was the only reason Arline still lived.

Had he killed the foolish woman first,
before
telling
Ona his plan, then Arline would now be rotting in the ground where she
belonged. Instead, she was now under the protection of Rowan Graham, the man he
had once considered his only true friend. But that was decades ago, when they
were children. Too much had happened since those carefree days.

Garrick had learned two weeks after Lily Graham
disappeared along with his former wife, exactly what had happened that fateful
night. Rowan and three of his men had been able to breech Garrick’s defenses,
enter
his
home and take the brat. Garrick’s men who were on duty that
night were summarily tortured before being disemboweled for allowing the
breech.

With every fiber of his being, Garrick despised
Rowan Graham. Hated him. Wished nothing but ill will toward the fool.

He wanted Rowan to suffer, to die a slow,
horrible, agonizing death, just as Garrick’s mother had died trying to bring
Andrew Graham’s bastard son into the world.

Garrick had made a promise to his dead mother
those many years ago. Her death had nearly been the end of him. He had adored
her and she him. She doted on him, denied him nothing. He had been the perfect
son. She had told him so every day of his life.

In Garrick’s eyes, she was the perfect mother.
Even after he learned the whole sordid truth. He could not blame his mother for
her indiscretion. That fault lay at the feet of others.

Doreen Blackthorn had loved Garrick’s father. She
had all but worshipped the ground under Phillip Blackthorn’s feet. Naively, she
had believed he returned those cherished feelings. That was until the day she
found him in bed with a whore, a girl really, barely old enough to know what
she was doing. Seeing them together, in
their
marital bed, had crushed
Doreen’s spirit, had broken her heart, and had nearly killed her.

Doreen quit smiling and singing that day. Worst of
all, she had quit living.

He’d been a boy then, just two and ten when he
learned the truth, that Andrew Graham had seduced his sweet, beautiful mother.
His father had told him the whole, sordid, painful truth, sparing few details.

His father took none of the blame of course. It
was a man’s right to have a mistress he explained. His God given right to do as
he pleased, when he pleased, and with whom he pleased.

But Garrick knew that had his mother
not
found
Phillip in bed with another woman, she would never have sought comfort in the
arms of another man, his seed would not have grown in her womb only to kill her
in the end.

So Garrick promised to avenge her death. Even as a
boy he knew it might take some time before he could put any kind of plan in
action. The hope of exacting his revenge was the only thing that kept him going.

Until he met his sweet Ona. ’Twas then that he
found another purpose for living. With her long, raven tresses, her soft, blue
eyes, and all those glorious curves, he had fallen for her the moment he first
laid eyes upon her. In so many ways, Ona reminded him of his sweet, beautiful
mother. Soft spoken, beguiling and kind. She even sang like his mother.

But since Ona was Scots and Garrick English, his
father refused to allow them to marry. Aye, they lived on Scottish soil, in a
grand Scottish castle not far from the English border, but Phillip Blackthorn
refused to allow Blackthorn blood to be tainted with even a drop of Scots
blood.

With his father dead, Garrick could apply his
father’s own words to his life. He would do as he pleased, when he pleased and
with whom he pleased. And Ona
pleased
him very much.

Even after all these years, Garrick felt honor
bound to never forget what Andrew Graham had done to his mother. He would seek
revenge in her name, to right the injustice the bastard had served on his
mother and, ultimately, upon Garrick. Unfortunately, the Black Death took
Andrew Graham’s life before Garrick had the chance.

Garrick felt cheated out of the opportunity to
watch the life drain from Andrew Graham’s body. He looked at that as another
injustice, a slap in the face and it angered him.

The idea to make all of Clan Graham suffer came to
him in a dream one night months ago. He would seek retribution by making all of
Andrew Graham’s clan suffer. He would begin by tormenting Rowan, making him to
suffer knowing his wee daughter was killed by Garrick’s own hand.

Somehow Ona had gotten wind of his plan and put an
immediate stop to it. She’d not allow him to take the life of a little girl,
especially now that their own child grew in her womb. Wanting nothing more than
to make Ona happy, he relented and agreed not to kill the child. But she hadn’t
said a word about
taking
her and holding her for ransom.

Rowan Graham did not know that he owed his
daughter’s life to Ona. Arline was just as ignorant.

So Lily Graham’s life as well as Arline’s had been
spared because Ona had asked it of him. Garrick would make damn certain that
Ona did not learn what he had planned for Rowan, for he knew, deep in his
heart, that should she ask him to spare Rowan’s life, it would be the one time
he could not grant her wish.

He had made his decision, quietly and without
consulting Ona. Garrick would make certain the son suffered for the sins of the
father.

Winter did not come gradually nor softly in the
night. Nay, it came roaring in just before dawn, with gale force winds that
battered against the stone walls with a fury that sounded like a thousand
Trojan warriors with battering rams were trying to gain entry. The winds were
so loud and strong, that the many inhabitants of
Áit na Síochána
woke
wondering if the walls could withstand it.

For three long days, the wind beat against the
walls and roof of the keep. The snow whirled in through the fur-covered
windows, leaving the floors beneath them covered in the heavy, cold substance.
The children, of course, loved the excitement. The adults left cleaning up the
mess and looking for better ways to keep the snow out did not hold the same
level of excitement as the children.

Some of the older clansmen could remember a
blizzard of similar force and destruction from their childhood. These older
people did worry that the affects of this storm would be similar to the storm
they had survived in ’23. At least a dozen people had died from exposure and
lack of food back then.

Rowan did his best to assure them that no one
would lose their lives this time, as long as they stayed within the keep and
near the fires.

Their larders were full with dried fruits, cheeses
and meat. He reckoned they could survive for three months without having to go
in search of meat. Had this blizzard happened last year, or worse yet, the year
before? They would not have made it past the first week.

Arline and Selina helped keep the children
occupied with games and stories and activities that could be done in the
gathering room. He was glad to see that a good number of his people had begun
to change their opinions of Arline. Over the past weeks, they had come to see
that she was a fine woman, intelligent, kind, and above all else, giving and
honorable.

There remained just a handful of people, however,
who still believed Mrs. McGregor’s lies. They still held on to the opinion that
Arline was a spy sent to ferret out whatever information she could to benefit
Garrick Blackthorn. They kept their children away from Arline. Though she would
not openly admit to it, Rowan knew their actions hurt her deeply. She also
pretended not to hear the vulgar whispers that were said behind her back.

While Rowan could order them to treat her with
nothing but respect, he knew he could not change their hearts. Only Arline
could do that.

Rowan could only hope that eventually they, too,
would come to the same conclusion as the rest of the clan -- that Lady Arline
was in fact a beautiful and good woman.

Christmas time was not far away and Lady Arline’s
birthday was even closer. He had learned through his most favorite spy -- his
daughter Lily -- that Lady Arline’s birthday was just three days before the
winter solstice.

Though he had tried on numerous occasions to get
Arline to discuss more of herself with him, she usually ended up changing the
subject. Why she was more comfortable giving Lily more personal information
than she did him, he did not know.

Rowan did feel a connection with Lady Arline, a
connection he had never felt with anyone before, not even his beloved Kate.
They had come together over Lily and as time went on their friendship grew.

He felt he could talk to Arline about nearly any
topic, save for what he was feeling in his heart as it pertained to her. Those
feelings and thoughts he kept closely guarded, safely hidden away in the
deepest recesses of his heart.

It was more than just a simple friendship, at
least that is how he felt about it. He had no idea what Arline thought for she
was not one to share her feelings, unless they pertained to Lily, the keep, and
general every day life.

Rowan wanted to do something special for Arline
for all that she had done for him and for Lily. He had begun planning a very
special gift for her the day after they had returned from Blackthorn lands. He
hadn’t planned for it to be a birthday gift but things were working out in such
a manner that it would arrive in time for her birthday.

Knowing his daughter’s inability to keep a secret,
he hadn’t shared the surprise with anyone but Frederick, Daniel and Thomas.
They had all agreed that it was in fact the most appropriate gift and one that
would show Arline the depths of his gratitude.