Chapter Eleven
“What are they saying?” Grandmama Marion demanded behind Lillith and Lenora, who both had their ears pressed to the firmly closed solar door.
“Caleb is asking for Lenora’s hand again,” Lillith answered, and then she squeezed Lenora’s fingers for reassurance, because she could feel her sister trembling beside her.
“What is Royce saying?” Eve asked.
Lillith pressed her ear harder to the door, trying to make out the words, which were muffled and hard to hear.
Lenora groaned, and the women behind them all gasped.
“What is it?” Aunt Elena cried out.
“Da has asked Rory if he will give his blessing for allowing Lenora to wed Caleb, and nae be a choice for Rory’s bride anymore,” Lillith answered.
“Well?” Lillith’s Aunt Sebille demanded. “What’s his answer?”
Lenora let out a whoop, snatched Lillith into a hug, which jerked Lillith from the door, and spun her around as Lenora raced into the outstretched arms of the rest of the women, who were smiling and laughing.
“Aye,” Lenora gushed. “Rory has given his blessing for me to wed Caleb without any strife from Rory!”
All the women congratulated Lenora as Lillith stood there, numb from shock, and Rory’s words that she’d clearly heard replayed in her mind. Ye’ve my blessing, Caleb. I want Lillith. I choose Lillith. And when her da had asked Rory if she had Rory’s affections, he’d answered, Aye.
Lillith’s heart was pounding so hard it rang in her ears, and the room began to spin.
Aye. He had said, aye. And she—she’d felt a thrill!
A flash of heat gripped her, and her stomach knotted.
She was going to be ill. She shoved her way past her sister, grandmama, aunts, and Eve, and she raced out of her da’s private chambers.
Behind her, voices called out for her to stop, and footfalls fell hard and fast, but she was faster, driven by fear.
Masie appeared by her side, and Lillith took the steps to the main floor so quickly that she nearly tripped.
By the time she flung the courtyard door open, she was breathless and sweating.
But she did not stop. The last rays of sunlight had cast an orange and purple glow over the sky, and the torches in the courtyard had already been lit in preparation for nightfall.
With Masie, Lillith ran down the garden path that led to the woods, and she did not stop until she reached the edge of the woods.
She slipped inside the thick canopy of trees, where she knew it would be impossible to find her, and she sank to a stump that was one of the only spots not covered with snow.
Her mind was racing as fast as her breath was coming.
She had his affection. He’d said, and God’s blood—she curled her knees to her, wrapped her arms around them, and pressed her forehead to him—she was terrified that he was rapidly taking hers.
What was she going to do? If he had her affection, then he had the power to break her heart.
She could not yet return to the castle and face him.
She was fearful he’d ask her to wed him, or she’d be commanded to, and then what?
Risk her heart and wed him? Risk her family and refuse him? Be sent to the nunnery?
All the possibilities swirled in her mind over and over, until the sun was almost completely gone, and she had no choice but to return to her home.
She would go straight to the loch for the ice plunge contest. That way, he’d not have a chance to be alone with her, and she could put off any decision until at least tomorrow.
She made her way back down the path she’d raced down earlier as snow fell on her and the wind blew an extra stiff breeze.
A winter storm was coming. She could feel it in the bite of the air and smell it in the frost that drifted around her.
She wrapped her arms around herself as she hurried, wishing she’d worn a cloak.
The ice plunge contest was going to be brutal, but she’d won it the last three years in a row, and she’d faced a colder night than this for the contest. The trick was to take her mind somewhere else, like the rolling hillside around her home in the summer when the grass was bright and green and sunshine kissed everything.
When she got to the courtyard, she saw that the torches on the seagate stairs had already been lit for the procession down to the loch for the contest. She picked up her pace, thinking everyone must have already made their way to the lock, which was better for her.
If the crowd were all together and waiting on her, it would be even easier to avoid speaking with Rory alone.
She was just at the iron gate that led to the stairs when Rory called out to her.
She froze, one hand on the gate, and her chest immediately tightened.
“Lillith, wait!”
She could have ignored him and fled down the stairs, but she refused to be an utter coward.
Slowly, she turned toward him, and her mouth dropped open.
He wore only his braies, which clung to his hipbones.
He must have already prepared for the contest. He closed the distance between them in three easy strides, stopping so close to her that his heat engulfed her, and when his gaze came to hers, soft as a caress, her heart jolted, and her pulse pounded.
“Where have ye been?” he asked, tenderness in his tone.
“The woods,” she answered truthfully.
“Yer sister says ye ran from the solar upon hearing that she could wed Caleb. Is that true?”
“Aye,” Lillith answered past the huge lump that had lodged in her throat.
Rory raked a hand through his hair. “Lillith—” He reached for her, and she flinched away.
He saw her reaction. She knew he had by the sudden tension in his jaw and the way he dropped his hands by his sides and curled them into fists.
He did not make a move to touch her again, but his gaze held her locked in place. “Ye have my heart,” he said, simply.
Her own heartbeat galloped so hard she felt she might collapse.
“I want to wed ye. Nae because it’s ordered but because, well, because I love ye.”
She sucked in a sharp breath as the courtyard around her began to spin. He loved her. He wanted to wed her. He had the power to break her heart.
He let out a long sigh as he studied her, and then he said, “I see by yer rabbit trapped by a wolf look, that ye likely do nae wish to wed me, but I fear I require an answer. Ye see, my da is returning here—he sent word—and I need to ken how to deal with him.”
She frowned. “How to deal with him?”
“Aye, lass. It will depend on yer answer.”
“Are ye saying I have a choice?” she said, and a pain pierced her heart.
“Ye ken as well as I do there is always a choice, even when it seems there’s nae.”
“Oh, aye,” she replied, angry but whether at him, or herself for her fear, or herself for her confusion, or the king for his edict, or her da for not keeping his promise, she did not know.
“I can wed ye as the king commands, or I can defy family and king and be sent off to live my days in a nunnery, which will cause harm to my family, and likely an irreparable breach between the men and the women. I can see clearly, I have a choice.”
He shook his head. “Nay, lass, I am giving ye a true choice. I want to wed ye, but the choice is good and truly yers. If ye do nae wish to wed me, I’ll take the blame.
I alone will go to the king and tell him it was me, and nae yer family.
Yer da, granda, and I have signed a peace treaty, stating that there will nae be any more quarrelling between us.
That was what the king wanted, so the repercussions to my family should nae be too terrible. ”
She could hardly believe it. “Why? Why would ye take that risk?”
“For ye,” he said. “I love ye, Lillith. I would defy the world if it meant giving ye what ye need, what ye want. So what is yer answer? Will ye wed me?”
Her tongue was frozen in fear. A part of her yearned to say yes, and another part of her, the part that remembered her da’s pain, was scared to give herself over to this man completely.
He had her affection already, of that much she was now certain, but how much worse would it be if they were wed?
If they had bairns? If they had years of love that were suddenly ripped away?
She could still protect herself. She could stop letting him in any further before he stole her heart completely.
It was on the tip of her tongue to say no, but then she blurted, “If ye can best me at the ice plunge challenge, I’ll give ye an answer tonight.
Otherwise, I’ll give ye an answer by the morning.
” That was, after all, the day of the Winter Solstice and the king’s deadline.
She needed time to think, and she could not think with Rory so close.
“Then prepare to lose, Lillith. I’ll nae be going to bed without yer answer.”
The water was the coldest she’d ever experienced, but she employed her trick, sending her mind to the rolling hills of Skye.
She ran through the grass, trailing her fingers along the edges, feeling the blades tickling her skin, and the sun warming her face.
She played fetch with Masie and practiced archery, taking a nap on the plush grass after a hearty snack.
Eventually, the sun went down, and she started to notice the chill that accompanied that, and that’s when she heard yelling.
She opened her eyes, and the ice-cold of the loch water stole her breath and her senses for a moment, but then the chaos consuming the night around her commanded her attention.
She looked to her right to find her da in the water and her Uncle Rolland, and they were lifting Rory, so that her granda and Uncle Brus, who were on the bank with the rest of her clan, could pull him out of the water hole where the ice plunge contest took place.
Had Rory gotten a cramp? When his head hung oddly backward as his body was being lifted.
Lillith heard herself gasp. No one was paying her any heed.
Her grandmama, Eve, her aunts—everyone was crowding around Rory, shouting at each other.
Lillith scrambled out of the water, and as she stood, Lenora cried out, “He’s dead!
Lillith’s foolish competition has killed him! ”
No, no! That could not be. Lillith stood on her tiptoes, pressed as the was to the back of the circle surrounding him, and she peeked between two clansmen to see Rory. He lay still, eyes closed, skin an odd shade of blue, illuminated grotesquely by the moonlight.
A cry lodged in her throat, as tears sprang to her eyes, and the weight of her guilt, her horror, brought her off her toes to stand there, swaying as wave after wave of despair washed over her.
The pain nauseated her, and caused her bones to ache, and her blood to freeze in her veins.
It was too late—for Rory and for her. He was dead, and she loved him.
She’d not given him her heart; he’d taken it, and now it was broken.
Her anguish was so overwhelming, she almost fell to her knees right there, but then she thought of Eolande and the Wishing Tree.
There was only one person with the power to save him, and the last time Lillith had seen the seer was at that tree.