The frown on those familiar craggy features deepened. His face was so known to her, she did not often take the time to look at him. He must be three and forty now, she realized. Still a handsome man. If only she could think of him that way. Her mind went to another man who she did think of that way, but dearly wished she didn’t.
Irony. Not funny at all sometimes.
“Does Davey know?”
She nodded. “I told him before the midday meal.”
“When will you return?”
Something in his gaze caused her to turn away. “As soon as I am able.”
There was a long silence, and Mary’s gaze slid to the window. She started to smile, catching sight of Davey. But then she noticed the knight he was speaking to: Sir Kenneth. Mary didn’t understand why her son had suddenly attached himself to the rebel knight. It was as if he’d transferred the adulation he’d had for Sir John to Sir Kenneth. Actually, she’d seen very little of Sir John today. His greeting on seeing her at the midday meal earlier had been stiff and reserved, almost as if he were embarrassed about something.
But it was Sir Kenneth who concerned her. Was he trying to get to her through her son?
“It’s him, isn’t it?”
Mary turned back to Sir Adam in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Sutherland. He’s the man you met in Scotland. He’s the father of your child.”
Mary’s heart stopped. Her eyes widened in astonishment, and perhaps also in fear.
Sir Adam must have seen it. “You’ve nothing to fear, Mary. Your secret is safe with me. I will do whatever I can to help you. Why do you think I volunteered to go to France and asked you to accompany me?”
Mary continued to stare at him in shock. “You knew?”
A wry smile crossed his hard features. “My wife had ten pregnancies. Even though you’ve put very little weight on—weight that you needed—I know the signs.” He held her gaze, and said softly, “And I know you.”
Mary bit her lip and dropped her eyes, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks.He loves me, she realized with a pang of sadness. How could she not have guessed how he felt all these years? She could see it so clearly now.
She lifted her gaze back to his. “I’m sorry.”
He seemed to know what she meant. She loved him, but not in the way he wanted.
He cleared his throat and looked away to the window. “Does he know? Is that why he has come to England?”
Panic replaced the moment of awkwardness. She shook her head frantically. “Nay, and I have no wish for him to find out. His arrival here has nothing to do with me.”
She could tell Sir Adam didn’t approve. “I’ve known Sutherland for a long time. You need not fear that he will not do right by you.”
“I have no wish for him to do right by me.” A wave of emotion rose in her throat and pricked her eyes. “I can’t do it again. I could never marry another man like Atholl.”
Sir Adam held her gaze; the compassion she read there nearly undid her. But she could also see the anger. “I loved your husband as a brother, but he had all the sensitivity of an ox. He had no idea how to treat a young bride. I told him so, many times, but…” He shrugged. “He was stubborn and used to doing what he wanted. He said you would adjust.”
“I was very young and naive.”
He grimaced. “That’s no excuse. But are you so sure Sutherland will be the same?” He shook his head. “Lord knows I spent half my time pulling him out of fights when he was young, and he has always been quick to take offense and quicker to use his fists, but the lad always struck me as sensitive.”
Mary tried not to choke.Sensitive?“Are we speaking of the same man? Sir Kenneth Sutherland is too arrogant, too bold, and too popular with the ladies by half.”What does that have to do with us?Those were not the words of a sensitive man. “He would probably take the child from me out of spite for refusing him.”
Sir Adam lifted a brow. “So he did ask you to marry him? I was surprised to think he hadn’t. The lad always had a fierce streak of honor in him.”
Mary refrained from commenting on “the lad.” It wasn’t honor that had precipitated his offer—or rather, non-offer—but Robert the Bruce. Now that he was no longer Bruce’s man, pleasing Bruce would not force his hand. “Please,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. “Please promise me you will say nothing.”
His gaze fell to her hand. Mary felt her cheeks fire at the unconscious gesture, not realizing how it would seem. She moved it away as inconspicuously as she could.
“It is your secret, Mary. I will not interfere. Not unless you want me to. There are other choices, if you do not wish to marry him. I will protect you any way I can.”
