A few enquiries had Lowri’s heart sinking. No one wanted to take her across to Scotland without payment, though one leering captain had said she could pay in kind, looking her over as if shewere a whore. She would have to steal money for the crossing and a horse to get her to Fellscarp and her brother, Peyton. But what sort of welcome would she get? Would Peyton hate her for leaving without a word? And any crossing would be perilous with no man for protection on board a ship.
Oh, to hell with men. She could protect herself. And there might be another way home, but it involved dancing with the Devil. Lowri made her way to the tavern. It was quiet, the air foul with the smells of old ale and food. Heap was there, lolling before the fire like a great bear, bent over, forearms on knees as he peeled an apple with his knife. Lowri imagined that same knife might have been plunged into the flesh of the wreck survivors just a few short hours ago, and shuddered at the thought of blood tainting the juice of the apple.
The monster smirked at her when she went up to him. ‘Morning, lass. Cullen let you out of his clutches at last?’
‘I’m looking for Butcher?’
‘As are all the lasses hereabouts.’ He pointed upstairs with the knife. ‘Last room, end of corridor, facing out to sea. He’s not entertaining presently, so you can have him all to yourself.’ He leered, revealing blackened teeth. Lowri rushed upstairs away from the foul creature as Heap called out, ‘If he’s not keen, then come back and sit on my lap for a bit.’
***
Cullen did not know what to make of Briony Fallstaff. Lowri had made herself scarce by the time he woke, and since then, the lass he had plucked from the waves rattled on incessantly about her terror and his rescue of her, to the point where he decided to take refuge in tending the horses.
In the stable, he realised one was missing, and in a moment of panic, worried that Lowri had left him and just ridden off, back to Scotland. Surely she would not do that? The lass would snap and snarl at him before taking her leave. He could hardly comprehend what she’d told him about Donnan’s betrayal, which was so closely tied to his father’s. Both he and Lowri had been duped into marriage, and he was as much an unwitting victim of Griffin Macaulay’s schemes as Lowri. But she would never believe that now. Cullen leaned his head against his horse’s neck and took a deep breath.
‘Oh, here you are,’ said a bright voice. ‘I thought you had abandoned me.’
Briony stood in the doorway, a shaft of sunlight illuminating her mass of blonde hair like a halo. Her face was equally angelic when she smiled at him, her round blue eyes locking with his. ‘I fear that I cannot be alone after that awful ordeal.’
She clutched her arms about herself, and though he was irritated at her following him and longed for a moment’s peace, a rush of pity compelled Cullen to take hold of her arms to steady her. ‘Perhaps you should go back to bed and rest.’
‘No. I must be up and about and make myself useful to repay your kindness and that of… Oh, I forgot her name, your wife. Forgive me.’
Her doll-like beauty and vulnerability meant he would forgive her anything. ‘Her name is Lowri.’
Brionny cast her eyes around. ‘Is she about? I could perhaps help her with some chores, though I am unaccustomed to domestic duties. We have servants at home, you see, to tend to those things. Oh, when I think of home, I despair. What is to become of me without a protector?’
‘Lowri has gone off somewhere, but she will return soon.’ Cullen turned from Briony and muttered, ‘To plague me no doubt.’
The lass sniffed and wiped away tears. She was clearly cossetted and utterly ignorant of life’s hardships. The lass did not seem to know what peril she was in washing up on these shores. It was lucky she had been found by him and Lowri, because others would not have treated her so gently.
‘I will protect you, Briony, and see you safe home,’ he said.
‘There is nothing for me back there,’ she cried. Briony grabbed his hand. Her fingers were surprisingly rough against his, and Cullen looked down and opened her palm. The skin was red and raw, with cuts here and there, the fingernails not torn, but bitten, down to the quick.
She snatched her hand back. ‘They are not fit to be seen. I had to scrabble over the deck to safety as the ship sank.’
‘Of course. But your hands will heal in time.’
‘Tis vanity to be vexed by such trifles,’ she said. ‘But I so wanted to look my best for my wedding.’
‘Tell me about that,’ said Cullen.
And she did, at great length. She was to be wed, and not happily. It was her father’s arrangement, but he had recently died, and she had to go through with it, or else she would be destitute, having no living relatives. Her husband-to-be was wealthy and living in Cork, awaiting her arrival. She had set sail with a maid whose loss she bemoaned, as she was a good, loyal woman who had vowed to see her safely to Cork. She dreaded the prospect of marriage to a stranger whom she had never met.
Cullen pitied the softly beautiful lass having to endure a man she did not want, much like Lowri, except he doubted Briony would fight against her chains the way his wife did.
‘That dress you were in when I found you. I suspected it was a wedding dress, for it was made of such fine stuff.’
A cloud crossed her face. ‘Oh, yes. I was trying it on to see if I could reconcile myself to the prospect of my wedding, when the ship started to lurch over, and water rushed in.’ Briony covered her face with her hands and threw herself against Cullen’s chest, sobbing and gulping as though she would lose her wits.
Cullen gently guided her back into the cottage and set her before the fire. ‘Take some rest and pull the bolt across the door. I have work to do, but I am sure Lowri will return soon to keep you company.’
He was not sure of anything, especially not Lowri, but he needed some quiet to calm his thoughts and nurse his torment. Lowri would leave him now that her friends were no longer in peril. She would not stay for the love of him, and he’d put no bairn in her belly to bind her, no matter that he had made love to her, not taken her just to fulfil a duty.
Briony took his hand in both of hers and kissed it, letting her lips linger on his skin. It was a strange gesture, and he did not know what to say, so he just nodded and rushed away, her slavish gratitude making him squirm inside. He was not worthy of it, nor of any woman.
Cullen walked down to the fields and sat amongst the wildflowers. He stared out to sea, imagining Lowri on a ship heading home to Scotland. Then he put his head in his hands and despaired.
