“Leave my solar,” she demanded. “I wish to be alone.”
“One fortnight,” Rowena said quietly. “That is all the time we will grant you.” She rose from her own seat, eyeing her. “And do not think to hide it when you bleed. My maids will know.”
Only after the woman was gone did Celeste breathe easier. Her insides were cramping again, and she slumped down in her chair, wondering what she would do when the truth came to pass. She felt certain that there was no child at all. Fear iced through her, while she wondered how she could protect her sister.
There was no time to find another husband or hire someone to give them shelter. Their home was located deep in the mountains of northern Scotland, and there were no abbeys or convents to grant them sanctuary. She tried to think of a thousand different solutions, but only one would solve their problem quickly.
A child.
The word was a fervent need, encircling her mind. There had to be a child somehow. Wildly, she seized upon the realization that it need not be Edmon’s. No one would know if it was given by another man.
You can’t, her conscience railed. How could she think to lie with a man, simply to conceive a bairn?
But then, how could she abandon Melisandre, bringing her sister back into poverty? Winter would be upon them within a few more months, and Celeste didn’t want to imagine being cold or hungry again. Then, too, her sister was sweet and softhearted, dreaming of the day when she would wed a nobleman. Edmon had promised he would arrange a betrothal when she came of age.
If it were left in Lionel’s hands, it would never happen. With no dowry or marriage settlement, her gentle sister would have no husband at all. At least, not one with property or wealth.
And if their fates rested with Rowena, they would starve.
Choose a man to be your lover, came the voice of desperation. Conceive a child and it will mend all your problems.
Celeste lowered her face in her hands, holding back the tears. How could she even consider it? Aye, she’d lain beneath her husband and allowed him to touch her freely, as was his right. But to lie with someone else, to tempt him as Eve had, that was far different.
She wasn’t sensual or sly enough to seduce a man. And if it were to happen here, everyone would know.
Leave, the insidious voice suggested. Take a lover of your choice and return.
Her cheeks burned at the thought. How could she even imagine it? She’d lain with no man except her husband.
But you wanted another, her heart reminded her. And he wanted you.
Once, that had been true, years ago. She’d been torn between two men...one who was the logical choice. And one who was her heart’s choice.
Even now, she wondered what had happened to Dougal MacKinloch. She’d never forgiven herself for leaving him. And although she’d buried the pain, she feared that seeing him again would only reawaken the loss.
You did what you had to, her conscience reminded her. For Melisandre.
The slight creak of the door caught her attention, and her sister entered the room. Melisandre was too thin, her face almost hollow. She’d grown so tall in the past year, she hadn’t had time to fill out. There were no curves on her body, and her fair hair was braided back so tightly, it made her blue eyes stand out.
“They took my gowns,” Melisandre murmured, her voice barely audible. “Lady Rowena said—sh-she said I would not need them.” Crossing her arms over the bronze silk she’d outgrown a year ago, her sister bit her lip. “Is it true, Celeste? Will they send us away?”
“I won’t let that happen.” She opened her arms, and Melisandre came into her embrace. Though her sister was nearly as tall as she was, she seemed far younger today, more vulnerable.
“She gave my gowns to her daughter,” her sister confessed. “I didn’t know what to do, and I could not stop them.”
“You were right to come to me,” she said, hugging Melisandre. The need to protect her sister was stronger than her humiliation. But she had precious little time left, and she would not allow Melisandre to become a victim. “Tell Síla that I have need of her.” Her maid would help her to make the necessary arrangements for traveling.
Celeste could save both of them, so long as she put aside her misgivings and took a lover. Preferably someone she would never see again.
But she could not relinquish the memory of Dougal or the way he’d stared at her, as if she were his reason for breathing. She wanted to look into his dark eyes again and see the love he’d once felt. To go back to the years lost between them and lose herself in his arms.
He was her best hope now. Her only hope. “Everything will be all right,” she promised her sister. “But I need to leave for a short while. We must seek help, and I intend to speak with some of the Scottish chiefs.”
“They aren’t our allies,” Melisandre warned.
“No, but I will ask. In the meantime, I want you to remain here, and stay close to Síla.” She trusted her maid to keep her sister safe.
“What about Lady Rowena? She might try to send me away.” Her sister’s face whitened at the thought. Though it was a real danger, Celeste strongly believed that if she left Eiloch, they would ignore Melisandre until she was found.
