Where others would have given into despair, she was sure, Bailey had done the exact opposite. He had believed fervently that Kieran and Tilly would come for him.
But after Bailey had been moved, without any preamble or reason given, Vivien found herself falling into deep despair.
It would have been far too easy for Reginald to claim that Vivien had met with an untimely demise, some sort of accident or illness that had stolen her from this earth after having her killed in the dungeons. No one would question him – he was a relatively highly regarded politician with no reason to murder his own wife.
Vivien had felt herself succumbing to the fear of never seeing Kieran again, of never having their future together, when Tilly had appeared at her cage door, a grim expression on her face.
But Tilly had managed to rescue Vivien – and for that, she was nothing less than a savior to her.
Tilly rushed through the castle, straight into Kieran’s rooms, her worry over Bailey evident in her straightened back and long strides that she took.
“Tilly,” Vivien heard Kieran exclaim from the inside of the room before she walked in behind Tilly.
“Oh, thank God,” Kieran exhaled as he took in the sight of Vivien. She herself drank him in, only too happy to be back in the safety of his castle and embrace as he pulled her close to him, holding her tightly.
“I thought ye were walking intae a trap, Tilly,” Kieran said, looking at his sister over Vivien’s shoulder. She buried her face in his shoulder, willing herself not to cry – tears of happiness and guilt bubbled beneath Vivien’s eyelids.
“Luckily not, Kieran,” Tilly sighed heavily, “We almost didnae mak’ it out though, if I’m being honest. The men who guard the dungeons returned just as we were making our way tae the tunnel. I need tae thank Helen for telling me abou’ it.”
“I won’t complain; I am only happy yer both safe,” Kieran squeezed Vivien against him.
“Aye, we are. Where is Bailey?” Tilly asked at long last, sounding as though she were on the verge of tears herself.
Kieran’s voice wobbled when he finally answered her, taking a deep, steadying breath as he did. Vivien could feel the slight tremble in his body as he held her.
She knew it was bad news; there was nothing good about the way he was reacting.
“He’s dead, Tilly,” Kieran’s voice broke as Tilly gasped.
“Nae, nae he’s not,” she said vehemently. Vivien turned her head around to look at Tilly, regretting it immediately.
The devastation and anguish on Tilly’s face were almost too much to bear as tears streamed down her face, running a course through the filth on her face, leaving tracks of where they had flowed down her cheeks.
“Please, tell me yer only joking, please?” Tilly begged as she stumbled to her knees. Kieran let go of Vivien in a flash as both of them moved to either side of Tilly, holding her up as best they could.
“I wish I were,” Kieran said, the despair and guilt clear on his face.
Vivien wished there were something she could do or say to comfort Tilly. But there was nothing – she could only blame herself for Bailey’s death. She should have tried to save him, she thought. If she had known that Helen knew of a tunnel under the castle, she would not have hesitated, even at her own life’s risk. Bailey was worth it – now it was just too late to do anything. Vivien cursed herself for not having tried.
Tilly sobbed in Kieran’s arms as he tried to comfort her. Vivien did not know much about Bailey, but she did know that he had been in love with Tilly. Kieran had told her all about their relationship, of how Tilly only saw Bailey as a brother and friend while the man pined after her.
Bailey had been weak when he was thrown into the dungeon to begin with; his wound had still not healed from their first altercation with Reginald’s men, and now he was dead, Vivien thought sourly, cursing Reginald in her mind. Bailey had been no threat to Lord Stone – he was not a warrior by any stretch of the imagination. Vivien could only shake her head in horror at her husband’s actions.
Bailey had not deserved to die.
Chapter Twenty-Six
It was clear to Vivien that she was not entirely welcomed by Kieran’s clansmen.
She had found that very few of his people would meet her eyes; some of them would go so far as to mutter comments about her to each other.
She knew what they were thinking – she was nothing more than a whore who had caused them nothing but misery.
Kieran had promised that, given time, his clan would come to accept her as their own – that their misgivings would be proved unfounded. He had told Vivien that he had every faith in her and his own clan and that they would all find a way to understand and accept each other.
Vivien had brought herself to broach a topic she really wished she did not have to; they needed to find a way for her to prove herself to his clansmen and to find a way to resolve their problem with Reginald as peacefully as they possibly could. If it could be done at all, to begin with, she thought to herself with a sigh. If they could not do it peacefully, they would have to resort to something less savory – even something sneaky to match Reginald’s way of thinking. That would be done only as a last resort.
Vivien and Kieran discussed strategies for hours on end, approaching the problem that was Reginald Stone from every angle they could think of.
