It was bad enough that Gellir must think her an invalid.But she was made even more ill with guilt and shame, knowing she was sick with another man’s bairn.
She’d seen her betrothed only a few times.He was classically handsome.Tall.Fit.Muscular.Striking enough that the young lasses of Darragh squealed behind their hands when he passed.
But he had a dark mane of rich brown.So he looked nothing like his Viking-blond cousin.Which would be troubling if she bore a fair-haired bairn.
Gellir’s character had been mostly what she expected.He was serious.Noble.Polite.Obsessed with knighthood.
But he had a few unfortunate flaws.By his dour expression, she learned quickly why he was called Grim Gellir.The first time they’d met, he’d smelled of fish and didn’t care what anyone thought about that.Now that he was off the tournament circuit, he seemed bored and restless.And she’d seen him squash a spider with his thumb.
Because she seldom saw him, she relied upon her maidservant at Darragh, a cheery, auburn-haired lass named Merraid, to tell her about her bridegroom-to-be.Merraid quickly became her close confidant, bringing her news and pickled eels and steaming baths.
Merraid waxed poetic when it came to Gellir.It was clear she bore great affection for the man, whom she’d known since she was a wee lass.Her stories gave Carenza some reassurance.
But the grave secret Carenza harbored gnawed at her conscience.And the more heroic Merraid made Gellir sound, the worse she felt about that secret.
Carenza soon discovered her delicate condition left her with raw emotions and a penchant for expressing them.One day she blurted out an awful confession to Merraid—that though she vowed to be faithful in body to her husband, her heart would always belong to another.
Kindhearted Merraid never judged her for that.But shewasdisappointed.And thereafter, the maidservant took it upon herself to kindle the romance between Carenza and Gellir.
As it turned out, Gellir was quite a poet.Though he didn’t see her often, nearly every day he sent heartfelt verse.Lavish praises of Carenza’s beauty.Humble declarations of his love.Effusive affirmations of his desire for her.
But in her vulnerable state, they only made Carenza feel worse.More cruel.More dishonest.More unworthy.
A disappointment.
She feared she was going to disappoint Gellir yet again tonight.
It was Beltane.And she felt miserable.
Normally, Carenza loved the holiday.Beltane was a season of rebirth and new hope.At Dunlop, she’d adorn the coos and sheep with hawthorn blossoms, deck the doorways and sills with gorse, and leave small pools of milk near rowan trees to appease the faeries.
It was a time for revelry and mischief.The clanfolk drank too much.Lasses flirted shamelessly, and lads showed off, leaping over the twin bonfires.Even the animals felt frisky.There was always a surge of bairns born in the months after Beltane—both beast and human.
But Carenza couldn’t bring herself to celebrate.Beltane did not represent promise or renewal for her.Her new beginning was going to have a sinister start.She was going to be married in a matter of days to a kind and honorable man from whom she was keeping the most terrible of secrets.
She had good reason to conceal the truth.She meant to do what was best for Gellir, for Hew, for the whole Rivenloch clan, for her father, for her clan, for the bairn, and aye, even for the king himself.The only person for whom it was not best was her.
Still, it was a wretched way to start a marriage—with a lie.
Merraid poked her head in.“Are ye comin’ to see the bonfires, m’lady?”Her eyes danced with pleasure, and Carenza wished she could join in the maidservant’s delight.
“Nay, I think not.”
“Are ye not feelin’ well?”
“I’m sure I’ll feel better on the morrow.”
It was the lie she’d been telling for a sennight now.The truth was she didn’t have the stamina to wear her usual mask of sunny disposition over her pervasive melancholy.And it was easier to claim she felt physically ill.
“Sir Gellir will miss ye at the bonfire,” Merraid said, clucking her tongue.
“Ye can give him my apologies.”
“I won’t leave ye here alone, m’lady.Not on Beltane.”
“Nonsense.I’ll be fine.Ye go on and enjoy the festivities for me.”
Merraid’s eyes lit up.“Are ye sure?”
