Not that they would imagine her scar-riddled back.
Had Logan seen it when he had bathed her?It hadn’t occurred to her why she had woken up clean and free of the stench of the donjon.Being bathed by a maid did not bother her greatly though only her personal maid had ever seen her scars, but Logan...Did he think her repulsive?Even when they had made love he had never seen them.
Still, she would not be cowed.Head held high, she swept out of the hall, followed by Anne and a guard by the name of Ronan.He was a young lad—around her age mayhap—with a strong, smooth jaw and a fine build.When he flashed her a grin, she rolled her eyes.She imagined he courted many lasses.
Lorna did not need directions to the gardens.She used to spend much time tending to them.Her husband had neglected the castle and even the herb garden, preferring to drink and feast.It had never occurred to him that without the gardens, they could not feast so well.But he left her alone while she busied herself with tending to the plants so much of her married life had been spent digging around in the dirt.
An ache formed in her throat as she recalled how Logan watched her sometimes, longing in his expression.While she had been married, he said nothing of his attachment to her and even after Walter’s death he did not admit to loving her until they had spent that one night together.Frozen in a prison of fear, she had never admitted anything.And then it had been too late.
Perhaps it still was.Logan had only ever been chivalrous toward her.She barely comprehended his earlier behaviour.His memory loss had changed him so drastically her thoughts of saving him in some way seemed foolish now.If she could only see something of the old Logan in him, she would know there was hope.
At the present, hope had almost deserted her.She saw no way of escaping.Even the old route through the back of the castle was now guarded and once Gillean returned, the best outcome would be a quick and painless death.The worst would be months of torture and imprisonment.That was the kind of man her brother by marriage was.
Offering a grateful smile to Anne, whose outrage at her treatment had forced the maid to stand up for her, she knelt by the small lemon balm plant and fingered its bright green leaves.She had planted it herself and it was growing well.If she stayed here much longer, her son would be grown too.Every day the babe looked more and more like his father, with a soft tuft of hair and a surprisingly serious expression for an infant.
A sob threatened to burst free, and she drew in a deep breath.Tears were futile.They never helped.They had not lessened her husband’s anger nor saved her from the grief of losing Logan.And they would not return his memory either.
If she pushed hard enough, could she make him remember her?
Mentally shaking herself, she straightened and offered a cautious smile to Ronan, who stood by the castle wall, and found he smiled back.Had he been one of the men who had fought her own?He certainly didn’t look the vicious warrior she thought all of Gillean’s men must be.
“Have ye worked for Gillean for long?”she asked.
“Aye, some ten summers.”
“And how long have ye been at Kilcree?”
His smile expanded.“Logan warned me ye were a canny lass but he didnae say ye were inquisitive too.”
“If I am to stay here, I should like to know all that is happening.This was once my keep, ye know?”
“I do indeed.Many have heard of Lady Lorna who brought her men up against Gillean’s.Ye must inspire men greatly for them to offer themselves up so easily.I hear ‘twas quite the bloodbath.”
So he had not been at the battle.That comforted her somewhat.The thought of him shedding her men-at-arms’ blood repulsed her.
“It was an unwarranted attack.Gillean threatened to kill myself and my brother.And Logan too.”She watched for a reaction.
His brows rose.“The laird trusts Logan more than any man here.Why would he try to kill him?”
“Because Logan used to work for me.He tried to protect me.”
“He was always under Gillean’s command, was he not?”
“By default, but all the men were loyal to me.Logan would never willingly work for that man.”
One dark eyebrow rose.“But I would?Ye have me marked as a son of the devil, do ye not, lass?”
Lorna let her brow furrow.She had not intended to insult the man, yet he took it lightly.Did he not realise the character of the man he worked for?“Men must work, I understand that, but for such a man?”
“Ach, he pays well and what else would ye have me do?Dig around in the dirt like a farmer?”
Lorna pondered this.She understood many simply worked where they could.She had never worried about her livelihood.Her parents had owned much and Walter was wealthy.Her own dowry had been sizeable, but Gillean now held that.Still, her cousin had a fine keep and she and her son had been well looked after.What would she do if she was pushed?Would she work for such a man?Was that what drove Logan?She supposed he felt he had no other choice and even the old Logan had been ambitious, determined to rise above his status as peasant.
It had been so long since she had thought of him as a peasant, it did not occur to her some segment of his past might still drive him.Mayhap some of the old Logan still existed.
Lorna fingered the plant once more and came to standing.Her slipper caught on a root and she tumbled into Ronan’s waiting arms.The man’s quick reaction startled her and she straightened hurriedly, smoothing down her skirt.
“I thank ye.”
