Rowan's Lady (40 page)

“Ye look as though ye’ve not slept well, Rowan.”

“I haven’t.” In truth, he had not left her side
for more than a few moments in the past days.

“I do no’ understand why ye haven’t. Ye should go
climb into yer bed and rest. Mayhap take a nice hot bath and a blade to yer
beard.”

“I canna do that,” he smiled at her.

He was being silly and she told him exactly that.
“I do no’ understand why yer here, why ye’ve no’ slept or shaved, and why ye
canna bathe or sleep, Rowan.” A huge part of her wished his refusal to leave
her side was because he had some feelings for her other than those derived from
her position as his daughter’s governess. ’Twas wishful thinking, she knew
that, but still, she could not stop herself from feeling the way she felt.

She took note of the way his eyes twinkled in the
candle light, the way the collar of his tunic moved with each beat of his
heart, and the way he held on to her hand. Odd, quite odd.

“I would no’ and will no’ leave yer side until I
ken that ye are on yer way to being fully recovered,” he said in a low, soft
voice. “I could bathe, shave, and climb into me bed, but I think ye’d beat me
over the head with the candlestick if I did.”

“What on earth are you goin’ on about? I be quite
certain I’d no beat ye over the head with a candlestick just fer bathin’ or
going to bed!” Mayhap he, too, had been injured and had suffered a grave injury
to his brain.

Another chuckle, a wee heartier this time. “Are ye
certain of that?”

She let out an exasperated sigh. The man had lost
his mind. “Of course I be certain! Yer makin’ no sense, Rowan Graham. Did you
suffer a head injury? Or did ye by chance drink some of that awful potion of
Ora’s?”

He could not help but laugh at her. He hoped she
would not take his laughter as an insult. Considering what had happened the
last time he smiled like an ignorant fool, he quickly explained why he found
her statement so humorous. “Lass, ye be in
me
room. Ye be in
me
bed.”

Her brows drew inward. His room? His bed? She had
only been in his room once when she brought Lily to him. She’d been so focused
on
him
at that time that she hadn’t paid any particular attention to his
room, his furniture or anything else for that matter. Her focus had been solely
on the man himself.

“Aye,” he said with a nod of his head when he saw
the expression on her face. “Me room. Me bed.”

“But why am I here?” she asked.
And not in me
own room?

He stopped laughing and the smile left his face.
His expression turned serious. She couldn’t be certain, but she thought he
looked a bit fearful and embarrassed.

“Well?” she asked. “Or is that another question
ye’ll no’ answer until yer damned good and ready, like
what happened to me
?”

Her original thought had been to convince him to
leave her be long enough to speak with Ora. Now she had more questions. Somehow
she doubted Ora would be able to answer most of them. She was as confused over
what he
had
said as what he had not.

Rowan cleared his throat and shifted in his chair.
His jaw muscles tensed and Arline could sense that he was mulling over her
question.

“Truly, Rowan, ye are a perplexing man! I do no’
understand why ye canna tell me the truth. What happened to me? Why am I no’ in
me own room?” She shook her head and began to grow weary of his silence. She
reasoned that he was not going to be forthcoming with the information she
sought.

Rowan remained mute, as did Arline. The only sound
breaking through their muteness was the soft crackle of embers coming from the
fireplace.

 Rowan let out a short sigh before leaning in
closer to Arline. “Ye became angry with me because I acted like an eejit,” he
explained in a low tone. “I smiled.”

He had gone mad, she no longer held any doubt.
“Ye’ve gone mad,” she said with disbelief. “Why would I get angry because ye
smiled?” She could not believe him. If anything, his smile always left her
feeling happy, confused, and excited.

“I fear I smiled at a most inappropriate time,
Arline. I smiled because I was verra happy with something ye had just shared
with me. Something that was verra difficult fer ye to share. Ye mistook me joy
as me bein’ an ass. Ye even told me to go to hell.”

He looked genuinely miserable. Arline tried to
remember what they had discussed that day, of what she had told him, but drew a
complete blank. There were countless things she could have told him that would
have been difficult for her to discuss.

“I be sorry, Rowan,” she told him. “But I canna
remember.” She grew increasingly uneasy as well as concerned for Rowan. His
expression was pained, as if he were dreading telling her any of it.

“Ora says that when someone suffers a severe
injury, such as what ye suffered, their mind blocks out all memory of the
event. Some people have been known to loose not just hours, but days. She
thinks it’s the mind’s way of protecting a person, that the memory might be too
horrible and painful.” He patted the back of her hand. “I fear I do no’ want to
upset ye further, lass. But I also fear that if I am no’ completely honest with
ye, ye’ll resent me all the rest of yer days.”

Arline thought long and hard, all the while her
fear and unease increased. Though she worried over what he might tell her, she
worried more that the black patches of her memory would drive her mad. “I
promise ye Rowan, that I’ll no’ resent ye. Of that, I can swear. I may become
upset, but I have to ken what happened.”

She wanted to tell him that as long as he was with
her she felt she could face any problem or difficulty. She had grown to value
and treasure their friendship. Even if she had been angry with him, she knew,
deep down, she could forgive him nearly anything.

“We had been talkin’ of first kisses. Young Robert
had just kissed Lily, do ye remember?”

Her stomach tightened ever so slightly. A faint
memory, as faint as a whisper, tickled at the back of her mind.
First
kisses.
She vaguely remembered Rowan asking about
her
first kiss.
The nonexistent one.

“Ye told me about yer marriages.
All
of yer
marriages, and the lack of
intimacy
in them.” He spoke in a low, calm tone,
giving her little bits of information at a time so as to not upset her too
quickly. Her face paled visibly before turning a deep shade of red. Normally,
that would have made him smile, but he could find no humor in her discomfit
this day.

“Ye see, lass,” he paused, searching for the most
intelligent way to explain the rest of it to her. There was probably no way of
telling her what was in his heart without rambling on like a fool. He took a
deep breath and began again. “Ye see, lass, I have grown to care a great deal
about ye. But, there was a question as to yer,” he searched for any word he
could find that didn’t sound cold or harsh. “Yer
fertility.”

“My what?” she asked, her voice filled with
confusion and shock.

He took a quick breath in and let it out through
his nostrils. “There were some who were concerned that ye were barren. When I
learned that ye were still
pure
, well, it filled me heart with joy!”

Mad, mad, mad. The man
had
lost his mind.
She lay there in confused and stunned silence. Hopefully Ora would return soon.
Arline could somehow send a signal to her that Rowan was completely insane and
needed help.

Rowan watched as she sank back into the bed,
looking as though she were trying to hide from him. He knew he wasn’t making
much sense by beating around the bush.

“I wanted to ask fer yer hand but I couldna ask
fer it if ye were barren.” His words spilled forth in an almost indiscernible
manner. “The clan council would no’ have blessed our marriage. I would have had
to give up Lily’s birthright and I couldna do that to her. I was willin’ to
live the rest of me life alone, without ye, to save me daughter’s future -- and
yers! I couldna ask ye to marry me and no’ be able to provide fer ye. I was a
coward, Arline, a complete and utter coward and an eejit.”

Arline froze. She could only make out half of what
he was saying. And that half scared her witless.

“But when ye told me finally of yer marriages and
the fact that there be no way of knowing if ye were barren or no’, well, I
couldna help meself! I was so overcome with joy, with knowin’ then that I
could
marry ye, that I couldna speak, I could barely think. All I could do was
smile. Ye took that smile as an insult. I could see it in yer eyes, the hurt
and the pain. But ye told me to go to hell and at the time, I didna ken why. Ye
ran out of the room, out of the keep, and tried to run away.”

Flashes of blurred and fuzzy images popped up in
the recesses of her mind. She could remember feeling cold, afraid, angry, and
hurt, but it was all a jumbled mess.

“I couldna get to ye in time, ye ken. I tried,
Arline, I tried so hard to get to ye. Ye climbed over the wall and before I
could stop ye, our men on the wall saw riders approachin’. It all happened so
fast. They shot at ye, their arrows flyin’ and landin’ all around ye. Ye were
trying to get back to the keep, when ye realized what was happenin’.”

He hung his head in shame. “’Twas me fault, ye
ken. I couldna get to ye in time. The last arrow hit ye in the back and went
all the way through yer shoulder. I thought ye were dead, Arline, and it nearly
killed me.”

She didn’t know which part of his story shocked
her more. The fact that he wanted to marry her or the fact that he would have
mourned her loss. Being shot seemed miniscule by comparison.

Someone on this earth wanted to marry her. He
wanted to
marry
her. Voluntarily, with no bartering or threats. She was
too flabbergasted to cry or speak just yet. She lay as still as a stone,
contemplating all that he had just told her.

His guilt was real, she could tell by the way he
hung his head, ashamed to look at her. That he should feel guilty when it was
her own stubbornness that had gotten her shot said much. It didn’t matter to
him
how
she came to be in danger. What mattered to him was that he
hadn’t been there to stop her from being hurt.

It bewildered her that he wanted to marry her.
Either she was far more naïve than she ever considered herself to be or she was
a fool. Either way, not once had she ever had even an inkling that he cared for
her as anything other than Lily’s governess. At most, she thought he considered
her a friend.

She finally found her voice, trembling and weak.
“No one’s ever wanted to marry me on purpose before.”

Slowly, he raised his head and looked into her
eyes. “I do.”

“But
why
?” she asked, still unable to grasp
the idea of Rowan possessing a desire to marry her. “Me da hasn’t bargained for
me, I have no dowry to speak of. I canna bring anything important to ye,
Rowan.”

His lips curved into a warm smile. “Ye bring
yerself, lass, and that is all I need. I do no’ need money or land or any other
inducement. ’Tis ye I want and nothin’ more.”

How many nights had she lain awake longing to hear
someone say those words? How many hours had been given to daydreams of Rowan
Graham professing to love and want her? And now, the moment was here, and had
she not been grievously injured, she would have fled from the room in fear. Her
hands trembled, her mouth went dry, and those damnable fish swimming in her
belly had returned once again.

“Ye canna be serious,” she said quietly. She found
it difficult to look into his eyes, so filled with adoration and desire that
her legs trembled. ’Twas a good thing she was lying down for had she been
standing, she most certainly would have fallen over.

“I am, Arline. Verra serious.”

“But ye’ve never done anythin’ that would lead me
to believe ye cared for me like, like
that!
”

He chuckled and leaned in close, so close that she
could scarcely breathe. “I
wanted
to, many times.”

The way he said
wanted
, brought a tickling
sensation to her stomach. It made her heart flutter. She thought it remarkable
that the more he spoke, the less her shoulder ached. But what exactly had he
wanted
to do? She grew a spine and asked. “What did ye want to do?”

His smile broadened to the point that he flashed
those brilliant white teeth. A twinkle gleamed in his eyes. “I wanted to tell
ye how I felt. And I wanted to kiss ye. I still want verra much to kiss ye,
Arline.”

Her eyes grew as wide and as round as wagon wheels
as he leaned in even closer. “Nay!” she exclaimed loudly as she lifted the hand
of her good arm and pushed him away.

“Nay?” He was unmistakably taken aback.

She shook her head at him. “Nay! This is no’ how I
imagined me first kiss to be!” she told him firmly. “Yer supposed to kiss me
under the stars or, or, by the loch, or in an alcove! Not now, when I’ve been
abed for days, and me hair is dirty and no’ combed! I’m no’ even dressed! And
I’ve a--”

He stopped her from saying anything else with a
kiss. A sweet, tender, gentle kiss. Once he had figured out she did no’ protest
the fact that he wanted to kiss her and that her only complaint was the timing
and location, he could not hold back.

The kiss was as he had imagined it would be.
Wondrous, exciting, and magnificent. Her lips felt soft against his. He took
delight in her sharp intake of air when his lips first touched hers.

He went in again, like a man diving into warm,
inviting waters. He felt her trembling fingers clutch his hand. She hadn’t
moved, hadn’t tried to return the kiss at first. But soon, she leaned in, her
lips pleading for more as she returned his kiss. Her innocence shone through in
how she responded, greedily yet hesitantly.