“Aye, m’lord.” Fiona offered him a cheery smile before turning her happiness on Elspet. “And Lady Beitris is fast asleep. Peaceful as if cradled by the angels.” Her rosy cheeks reddened even more as she cast a shy glance at Valan. “And Master William is sitting outside her door. Guarding her. No one passes if they dinna have a reason that suits him.”
Elspet pushed herself higher in the bed, more than a little pleased with Fiona’s report. “I am glad.” She nodded at Valan as she sipped what appeared to be mulled wine but turned out to be a fruity broth instead. “I have always liked William. Perhaps he has changed his thinking about marriage after all.” But then she remembered the match between Beitris and William no longer mattered. A heavy sigh escaped her. What would Beitris wish to do now?
“Their marriage, m’lady?” Fiona cocked a sparse brow as she plumped the pillows and adjusted the covers. When Elspet didn’t answer, she aimed an inquisitive look at Valan.
“It matters not,” Elspet said quietly, staring down at the thick slice of buttered bread and sliced apples in front of her. But if Beitris decided not to marry William, would she be content to live somewhere else and start life anew? Would she be inclined to live with Valan and herself—wherever that might be? Elspet studied him, her fretting spinning into worry. Would he be willing to accept the responsibilities of a grown daughter?
“Shall I bring ye something, m’lord? Food? Drink?” Ready to run as soon as he gave the order, Fiona wiped her hands on her apron.
He shook his head while keeping an uncomfortably watchful gaze locked on Elspet. “Nothing, thank ye.”
“Verra well then.” The maid bustled to the door and paused halfway across the threshold. “I shall be along later to collect the tray and check on ye. Rest ye well, m’lady. Send for me if ye need me sooner, aye?”
“Thank ye, Fiona.” Elspet pinched off a bit of crust and tried to eat, knowing if she didn’t, Valan would fuss.
“Nothing but truth between us, m’lady. Remember?” He nodded at her food. “Eat, m’love, and tell me yer worries so I might lay them to rest.”
She rested her hands on either side of her plate. “For the first time in my life, I dinna ken what would be the best course of action. For Beitris or I.” Massaging her temples, she closed her good eye, at war with so many conflicting possibilities.
His silence caused her to open her eye and find him watching her. Waiting.
“All I know for certain is I wish for us to be together.” She pushed a slice of apple around the edge of the plate. “But I dinna ken what that means, either. For us. For Beitris.” In spite of herself, tears welled and then escaped down her cheeks.
“Dear one,” Valan said so softly it made her cry harder. He moved the tray to the table beside the bed, then settled back beside her, and eased her into his arms. “Nothing must be decided today. I should nay have troubled ye with anything until ye’ve fully rested and healed.” He cradled her closer and settled his cheek to the top of her head. “Forgive me,” he whispered. “All that matters now is ye are safe, Beitris is safe, and all of us are together, ye ken?”
“I no longer trust any of them,” she whispered. “Nor do I care what befalls them.” But her conscience pricked her. “Does that make me as manipulative and evil as Euban?”
“Ye could never be evil. Or manipulative.” He shifted, kissed the top her head, then rested his cheek back on it. “Ye’ve nay got it within ye to do so.” He idly fiddled with the lacy edge of her sleeve, straightening it along her wrist. “They betrayed ye and lost yer trust when they allowed ye tortured and Beitris ravaged. ’Tis only natural ye’re ready to toss them to the winds of chance.” With as little shaking of the bed as possible, he kicked off his boots and stretched out his legs across the bed. “Sleep now, aye?” He pulled the covers higher around her shoulders and kissed her forehead. “I am right here, and here I will stay. Holding ye. Keeping ye safe. Close yer eyes, my weary one. We’ve plenty of time to decide the best course for our lives.”
“I love ye,” she whispered, sinking deeper into the warm, safe darkness of his embrace.
“I love ye, too, my courageous queen. I love ye, too.”
Chapter Eight
Valan knew theywould come.
Brothers by blood as well as by blade. Nothing spurred them to action like one of their brethren in need. Thorburn, his eldest sibling, led the thunderous army galloping toward them. The sight of Ross, his middle brother, riding close to Thorburn, tightened his chest. When last he visited Tòrrelise, Ross had been so weak from a month’s long illness, he had struggled to sit outside his keep in the sunshine. And yet here he was, riding as tall and strong as ever.
“So many.” Elspet stood beside him. She tucked her arm through his and drew closer. Today was the first time she had conquered her demons and visited the battlement atop the gatehouse. The place where she and Beitris had received the worst of their beatings before being shoved into the cages. “Is that the entirety of yer clan?”
“Nay, m’lady. ’Tis but a small portion of the Lord of Argyll’s mightyGallóglaigh.” He pointed at the front of the mass bearing down upon them from the north. “The two leaders there, those are my brothers. Thorburn at the left and Ross to the right, almost even with him.” He couldn’t resist a grin. “I grant ye before they reach us, Ross will try to overtake him because he knows how much Thorburn hates it.”
“Viking blood runs strong in the three of ye,” she said. “Fair-haired. Massive. Muscular.” A pensive air surrounded her. “Pity Euban didna live long enough to see this coming at him.”
“True.” Valan sidled a glance to the right and allowed himself a subtle, satisfied nod. Euban’s body and all signs of the cages had been cleared away. Even the stone wall had been scrubbed to remove any stains of what had taken place at the northeast tower. He gave her arm a gentle pat and turned them toward the stair. “Come. Let us go below and greet them, aye?”
She lifted her chin as if readying herself for a difficult chore. “Aye. I wish them to know how grateful I am for their haste in coming here.” After a hesitant twitch of her shoulders, she added, “Had ye not escaped and overcome those fiends, their arrival would have saved us for certain.” After a tensed moment, a soft groan, like the whine of a frightened pup, escaped her.
“Only the truth, m’lady.” He opened the door of the northwest tower leading to the stairs. “Tell me, dear one. Before we go down and meet them.”
Her mouth tightened into a troubled line, then relaxed. Without answering, she stepped forward, making Valan wonder if she would share whatever troubled her so. As they started down the twisting staircase, she trailed a hand along the wall, her fingers trembling the barest bit. Finally, she spoke. “I must make my choice now that yer kin have arrived. They will need to know what Beitris and I wish done with those in our prison—as well as everything else.”
Over the past few days, while she healed and recovered from all that had happened, he hadn’t pressed her, even though he sorely wanted to know what she had decided. “The matter of William and Beitris is settled at least.”
That earned a soft laugh from her. “God help that brave young man.” Her steps slowed, and she looked up at him with a genuinely pleased smile. “If my grandchildren inherit their parents’ red hair along with their fire and stubbornness, life will be interesting indeed.”
“Have they said if they wish to remain here and rebuild the clan?” William had refused to tell him anything. A noble stance, but also so frustrating, Valan wanted to thrash his arse for him.
