His mouth turned down at the unsavory thought of marriage.He would rather take a vow of chastity than settle for a bride who wasn’t Carenza.
One last bit of mockery awaited him.As he took his first steps toward Kildunan, he found a charred piece of his axe handle at his feet.
The remaining runes said Love conquers…
His words and his laughter were bitter.“Love conquers…nothing.”
He crushed it beneath his heel as he walked toward an uncertain future.
Carenza wept every night.
For her lost love.
For the king’s thoughtless decree.
For the Laird of Rivenloch’s poor judgment.
For the cruel hand of fate.
For Hew, whose heart she’d surely broken, despite the fact that he’d left without a backward glance.
And aye, even for the man she was to marry, for though Sir Gellir might claim her hand, he would never possess her heart.
But weeping upset her father and troubled the clan, so she kept her sorrow to herself.By day she was kind and sweet, patient and charming.If the sparkle in her eyes was dimmed by the mist of melancholy, only the animals could tell.Hamish came to the gate for a scratch when she was near.The courtyard squirrel shared her litter of kits.And Troye followed her around the keep.
The clan was mostly excited about the Dunlop-Rivenloch union to come.Everyone had heard of Sir Gellir, the tournament champion of Scotland.It was truly an honor to be chosen to be his wife.To carry on his name.To bear his offspring.
She’d been thinking a lot about bearing offspring lately.She’d always kept close track of her courses, and she was supposed to start her menses today.
Naturally, it was also one of Carenza’s busiest days at Dunlop.Easter.After the long period of Lent, almost everyone looked forward to the lavish feast where the Dunlop tables sagged with roasts and pies, eggs and cream, succulent meats and rich custards.
She never let a few aches and pains trouble her.It wouldn’t be the first time she suffered the pangs of her courses while hosting a feast.With any luck, she would start her menses on the morrow, while the clan was recovering from their overindulgence today and she could lie down for a nap.
As she sat down beside her father at supper, she saw a familiar jar beside his platter of simnel cake.
“Is that Kildunan’s honey?”
“Aye.”
“Och, Da,” she teased.“Have ye been squirrelin’ it away?”
She expected him to give her a conspiratorial wink.Instead he said, “Nay.’Twas an Easter gift from…” He cleared his throat.“From the monastery.”
An awkward silence followed.She could guess who had brought the honey.And the fact Hew hadn’t bothered to say good day to her was disheartening.
She should have let it go.She should have pasted on a smile to appease her father and murmured, “How kind.”
But she was wounded by Hew’s rejection.After all, soon they would be cousins.Now she felt as if she’d lost not only a suitor, but a friend.
So instead she muttered, “He might have lingered long enough to say hello.”
“I told him ye weren’t here.”He spread honey on a slice of simnel cake.
“What?”
He took a bite of cake and shook his head.“There’s no sense in draggin’ out the poor fellow’s torment.Ye’ll be gone in a fortnight anyway.”
Spent in Hew’s company, a fortnight would have been an eternity.Long enough to memorize every inch of his body.Long enough to speak aloud all the hopes and dreams they’d once had for the future.Long enough to make a lifetime worth of memories.
