“I won’t. Mother.”
Margaret softened. “From what I can see, Stephen de Warenne is a good man.”
Mary was relieved. “He is! Mother—if only you could persuade Father that Stephen is not the Devil’s own, and that our families are now allies—not enemies!”
“’Tis hard to persuade Malcolm in matters of state, dear,” Margaret said gently. “You know I do not like to interfere. But I shall try.”
“Thank you,” Mary said fervently.
They spoke for a few more minutes, then together they returned to the other chamber. Mary was disappointed when she realized that Stephen had left. She turned to her brothers, glad to have a moment to converse with them, unsure of how many more moments there would be after her wedding.
But Edmund said, in her ear, “Do you carry his brat yet, little sister?”
She drew away.
“’Tis an honest question, an important one,” Edmund continued, his eyes holding hers.
“Go to hell,” she whispered furiously, turning her back on him.
Edward grabbed him, spinning him around. “You oaf! Can you not at least ask if she is well?”
“I can see that she is well!” Edmund retorted.
“Do not start, not now, not here,” Mary whispered angrily. She had played the peacemaker often with her brothers, and under her unrelenting stare, they finally relaxed.
“Mary?”
Mary froze, recognizing the voice behind her, a voice with an urgent tone. Reluctantly she turned to face Doug, whom she had hoped to avoid. As if they were alone, Doug gripped her arms. Mary stiffened. “Doug—”
“We must speak!”
She was stunned. His expression was intense and strained, and there was no mistaking the wild, desperate light in his eyes. “What is it? What is wrong?” Even as she spoke, she glanced quickly around, to reassure herself that Stephen had not returned to witness Doug touching her in such a manner. Relieved, she shrugged free of Doug’s grasp.
“I had to beg your father to let me accompany him, Mary,” Doug said, low.
“I do not understand why you have come.”
He appeared confused. “Why I have come? To see you, of course!”
Mary’s eyes widened. Was it possible that Doug still cared for her?
“Mary—are you all right?”
“I am fine.”
“Has he hurt you?” Doug demanded.
Mary wondered if he was asking her if Stephen had used her. “No, he has not hurt me.”
Doug flushed. He gripped her arms again, bending over her. Mary grew nervous. “Are you with his child, Mary?”
She wet her lips. “I do not know.” She was scarlet.
He grimaced.
Mary waited for him to berate her, but he did not.
“I do not care,” he finally said. “If you bear his child, I do not care.”
