Chapter 17
Merraid couldn’t speak.
Her mind reeled.
How the devil had this happened?
To be sure, she knew how it had happened. Obviously, the lady had no fear of the marriage bed. But how had someone as pure and sweet and innocent as Lady Carenza managed to get herself with child?
A dark voice in her head answered that for her. The same way Merraid had managed to tryst with Sir Gellir and might well be carrying his child.
Carenza’s revelation explained a lot. Why she wished to avoid Gellir. Why she seemed so sickly. Why her emotions were in turmoil. Why she craved pickled eels.
“Och, what shall I do?” the lady despaired.
Merraid worried her fingers while her mind whirred. “How far along are ye? Two months? Three?”
Carenza shrugged and bit her lip.
Shite. If Carenza didn’t know, she must have swived the man on numerous occasions. No wonder she’d laughed at Merraid’s advice, meant for a virgin. Still, if her condition wasn’t too advanced…
“Perhaps he doesn’t need to find out,” she suggested.
The lady sighed in defeat. “I can’t keep it from him. I have to tell him.”
Merraid wasn’t so sure about that. How would Gellir feel, knowing the bairn wasn’t his? Knowing he might have been tricked into marrying Lady Carenza?
He would undoubtedly forgive her for her indiscretion. After all, he’d taken lovers ere he was betrothed. And even one afterwards, she reminded herself.
But would he suspect Carenza had been foisted onto him because of her condition? Had her father pushed her into marriage because he knew her secret?
He would be furious to discover he’d been manipulated.
Of course, Gellir would never blame the child. A man of his character would take in any bairn born under his roof. He was a good man. A generous man. He would raise the child as his own.
But in his soul, he would know that his firstborn, the one destined to be laird after him, was not a child born of their love. It would be a reminder that Carenza’s heart once belonged to another. And might still. And that would crush him.
“What if ye bide your time? At least wait till the bairn comes?” she suggested. “Ye wouldn’t be the first bride to give birth early in a marriage. And if the father looks anythin’ like Gellir…?”
She shook her head. “Nay.”
Merraid’s face fell. Of course he didn’t.
“I must tell him,” Carenza repeated, wiping at her tears and speaking with new resolve. “Gellir is a decent, kind, honorable man. I won’t start our marriage off with a lie.”
Ordinarily, Merraid would agree. But if that lie saved Gellir’s feelings…
“Will ye tell him before the weddin’?”
“I can’t. My father didn’t know my condition when he promised me to Gellir. And this alliance is so important to him. Gellir might refuse to marry me. ’Tis his right. But if he does…”
“The alliance will be broken. And your bairn will be born a bastard.”
A sob escaped Carenza. “Aye.”
Merraid didn’t mention that Gellir needed the alliance as much as she did. His bride might be with child, but at least she wasn’t English.
“So ye’ll tell him after the vows are exchanged?”
“Aye, ere we consummate the marriage.”
Merraid frowned. “Ye don’t mean to tell him on his weddin’ night?”
“What else can I do? I won’t give him myself to him—body and soul—knowing there’s a lie between us.”
“But… Ye can’t tell him then. Not on his weddin’ night.” Merraid could think of nothing more tragic.
“I can’t share his bed in good faith if he doesn’t know.”
Merraid had to admire the lady’s integrity. It was damned inconvenient. But she had to admire it.
The lady shook her head. “I should have told him long ago. But I didn’t have the courage. And once he started writing those beautiful letters to me, I didn’t have the heart.”
Merraid’s eyes flattened. She wished she’d never interfered. Never made that promise to Lady Feiyan that she’d grease the wheels of romance.
The only thing she could do now was soften the blow to Gellir’s heart.
“What if…” she said, worrying her lip under her teeth. “What if ye wait to consummate the marriage till ye arrive at Rivenloch?”
“Rivenloch?” Carenza exclaimed. “’Tis a sennight’s journey or more. Will that not strain his husbandly patience?”
“Ye could tell him ye’re sufferin’ from your courses.”
“I won’t lie to him. I can’t.”
Merraid sighed. She was right, of course. Morally. But if a lie eased the way…
“What if I find a way to delay him where ye won’t have to lie?” Merraid said. “By the time ye arrive at his home, ye’ll be long wedded and well-acquainted. Perhaps the news won’t hit him so hard then.”
“Perhaps. But ye’ll come with me, aye?”
“Come with ye?”
“To Rivenloch. Ye’ll be there when I tell him.”
Merraid’s brows slammed together. Being near to Gellir? Stirring that fire? It was a terrible idea. “Nay. I can’t do that.”
“Ye can,” the lady insisted, tightening her grip. “Ye’ve got to.”
Of course she couldn’t go to Rivenloch. That was absurd. Even if a tiny glimmer of hope stirred in her brain at the thought of seeing the formidable castle with its grand tiltyard and enormous armory.
“I’m needed here,” she argued. “Lady Feiyan—”
“I need ye more. Gellir needs ye. Ye can go as…as my handmaiden.”
“I cannot, m’lady,” Merraid said, pulling her arm away. As tempted as she was, she knew it wasn’t right. “Ye’ll be fine. Ye’ll see. Just don’t…” She bit back her words.
“Don’t what?”
“Promise me ye won’t tell him on your weddin’ night.” Gellir deserved at least one night with the possibility of a blissful union with his new wife.
“But if you aren’t coming to Rivenloch, if ye won’t be there to soften the blow…” She shook her head. “I must do the honorable thing. Ye don’t know him, Merraid. Ye don’t know him like I do.”
Merraid lifted a brow at that.
“The things he said to me,” Carenza sobbed, laying a hand over her heart. “His beautiful verses. His lovely words. So honest. So true. So kind. I cannot bear the thought of deceiving him. Even for one moment.”
Shite.
The whole clever scheme of courting Carenza with verse had just blown up in Merraid’s face like one of Sung Li’s legendary fireworks.
“I know he’ll be upset,” Carenza whispered. “And I cannot blame him.”
He would be upset. But he wouldn’t hurt her. “He’d ne’er do ye harm.”
“I know,” she said. “But I’ll be hurting him. And that I cannot bear.”
Merraid shook her head. What a coil. And it was partially her fault. She wished she’d never written those verses.
Carenza repeated, “Ye must come with me.”
“Why? What can I do?” She had a momentary vision of standing between the newly wedded couple with her dao drawn.
“Ye’re his friend,” she said, placing a hand on Merraid’s shoulder. “Ye can be there after…” Her face fell. “After I’ve broken his heart.”
Merraid’s shoulders sank. She wasn’t sure which would be worse. His broken heart. Or his offended pride. Either way, Lady Carenza was right. She could calm Gellir down when he was vexed. Soothe his spirits when he was wounded.
But leaving her clan. Leaving Lady Feiyan. Traveling all the way to Rivenloch…
“I don’t know,” she said.
“I need ye,” the lady pleaded. “He needs ye.”
“Are ye mad?” Gellir, sweaty from the morn’s practice, strode across the courtyard toward the great hall. “That’s the last thing I need.”
Merraid scrambled to keep up with him, dodging past busy servants and flocks of hens. “’Tis what I told her as well.”
“We cannot,” he muttered. “We dare not.”
“Agreed.” She slowed her pace. “Although…”
He sighed and stopped to face her. “What?”
“’Twould only be for a wee bit. Just until she settles in.”
“Absolutely not.”
“O’ course,” she said. “I’m only passin’ along her wishes.”
Shite. Asking him directly was not going to work. But she’d made a solemn vow to Lady Carenza that she would accompany her to Rivenloch. She was going to have to think of another way. Some way to convince him—or coerce him—into taking her along. But how?
Merraid made the mistake of looking up into his eyes then. They were gray as storm clouds. Hard as steel. In her mind’s eye, however, she remembered them softening with affection. Melting with lust.
It was only for an instant. After all, they were surrounded by the castle folk. She couldn’t be seen, staring at another woman’s bridegroom.
But in that instant, her breath caught, and her heart opened. A deluge of emotions rained down upon her. Her spirit soared like it had on the night of Beltane. When the whole world stopped.
In that instant, she remembered the strength of his arms around her.
The sweet exploration of his kiss.
The tempting torment of his tongue.
The welcome weight of his strong body.
The velvet heat of his cock deep inside her.
The breathlessness of their joining. Body. Heart. Soul.
In that instant, she glimpsed his emotions as well.
His smoldering passion. His tortured withholding. His sharp desire. The ecstasy of his release. The honesty of his love.
The memories were so vivid, so palpable, for that instant she couldn’t breathe.
Then, behind them, the castle gates suddenly burst open.
Merraid took a startled step away from Gellir.
“Here he is!” Lady Feiyan cried.
The gates swung wider. Like a pack of rambunctious hounds, scattering the servants in their wake, Gellir’s clansmen spilled into the courtyard. They surrounded Gellir, clapping him on the shoulder and all talking at once. Merraid found their enthusiasm dizzying.
“’Tis about time, champion!”
“Congratulations, lad!”
“I’m so happy for you, cousin.”
“I thought you’d never find a wench.”
“Who, Gellir? The greatest swordsman in all Scotland?”
“Oho! Not for long! Brand’s a close second.”
“Is this her? Is this your bride?”
They all silenced and looked at Merraid.
“Nay,” said a well-muscled, dark-haired young man with a familiar face. “I know her. I know you. You’re that maidservant. Merraid, aye?”
She squinted at him. He’d grown since the last time she’d seen him. But she was sure it was Feiyan’s brother Adam, who had cleverly disguised his way into the castle with Gellir four year ago. “The rat-catcher?”
Everyone laughed.
“Aye,” Adam said, grinning and bowing. “At your service.”
“Gellir.” The statuesque blonde woman who came forward was Deirdre, Gellir’s mother and the Laird of Rivenloch, the fierce warrior in command of the forces that had saved Castle Darragh. “Where’s your lovely bride?”
Gellir hesitated. Carenza had been crying in her chamber all morn.
Merraid saved him. “Och, he hasn’t seen her, m’lady. At Darragh, ’tis considered bad luck for the bridegroom to see his bride before the weddin’.”
That wasn’t true at all. But it made Laird Deirdre laugh.
“’Tis a good thing Sir Pagan didn’t get to see his bride before the wedding,” she said.
Everyone chuckled, and her husband Pagan smiled with good humor. “I’ve got no regrets.”
Merraid had heard the story from Lady Feiyan. To save her sister from marriage to Pagan, Deirdre had disguised herself, tricking him into marrying her instead.
Another group of guests flooded through the gates. Deirdre introduced Lady Carenza’s father and her clan from Dunlop.
“Hew,” Gellir called out to a man lurking behind the rest. “’Tis been too long.”
“Gellir.” The crowd parted to reveal Gellir’s tawny-haired cousin, the one who’d been living at Dunlop, in hiding like Gellir.
The man was tall and broad-shouldered, with a warrior’s build and a handsome face to stir a maiden’s heart.
But he had no smile for Gellir. Bitterness smoldered in his eyes.
“’Twould seem your fate is sealed. I’ve only to await mine now. ”
“Och, Hew.” An auburn-haired woman with a bow slung over her shoulder rolled her eyes. “I’m sure there are a few good lasses left in Scotland who haven’t yet broken your heart.”
Subtle pain streaked across his eyes for an instant and then vanished. “Not all of us can find love at first sight, sister.”
The great bear of a man beside the female archer burst out laughing at that. “First sight, was it? Ye mean after she sought to steal my keep? Or after I held her hostage?”
Merraid remembered their story too. Jenefer of Rivenloch was the hot-tempered lass who had battled with Highlander Morgan Mor mac Giric over a castle. They’d ultimately settled the matter, not by combat, but by marrying and sharing the keep.
A sweet-faced lass patted Hew’s arm in sympathy. She was a few years younger than Merraid, with tresses as pale as wheat and earnest brows. “Don’t mind them, cousin. I know you’ll find…” She sighed. “The One.”
“He always does,” Jenefer quipped, which earned her a simmering glare from Hew.
A lanky lad with light hair frowned thoughtfully. “I could do the calculations. Determine how many lasses he’s courted as a fraction of all the available lasses in Scotland…”
“Ian!” the earnest lass scolded. “You can’t find love with numbers. Love is…” She pressed a hand to her bosom. “Part fate and part heart.”
“So…” Ian said. “Fart?”
Everyone roared at that.
Merraid loved Gellir’s siblings at once. By their words, she realized the earnest lass was his little sister Isabel, who was an incurable romantic, and the calculating lad was his youngest brother Ian. She was suddenly glad she intended to go to Rivenloch with them. One way or another.
When the laughter died down, Gellir addressed Hew. “I owe you my gratitude, cousin.” His words were stilted, though Merraid was likely the only one who could tell. “You were right. Lady Carenza is a jewel. She will make a fine wife.”
Hew nodded, accepting the thanks. But his brow was furrowed and his jaw was clenched. Perhaps he was more sensitive to the others’ ridicule than they realized. Perhaps, unlike Gellir, he knew the importance of choosing a compatible bride.
Deirdre spoke to Lady Feiyan. “Perhaps you’ll take us on a tour of the castle?” she suggested, scanning the courtyard. “It looks like you’ve made some improvements.”
The clans dispersed then. Some followed Deirdre.
The Laird of Dunlop accompanied Laird Dougal to the stables.
Brand was itching to see the armory. Isabel wished to see the tunnel to the beach where Lady Feiyan and Laird Dougal had fallen in love.
Ian wanted to visit the firth to test several model ships he’d made.
Gellir excused himself to prepare for the wedding.
Merraid glanced up at the window where Lady Carenza was no doubt weeping into her hands. How she would convince Gellir to let her come to Rivenloch, she didn’t know. But she didn’t have much time.