“Your mother, we grew up together at Kirkland Park. I lived every day watching her,” he said into the silence, “with her fiery hair and love for life. How could I not love her,” he said simply. “When she was eighteen, she met your father and fell in love. He was dashing and titled and all the things she thought she wanted in a husband. All he wanted from her was an heir and Kirkland Park.
“In the beginning, your mother and I shared only our friendship. In time, it became more. I am making no excuses for us. Hereford was not a kind man on the rare occasion he came home.
“It was a relief the months he was away at sea. One night after he had returned, in a fit of melancholy, Elena told him we were lovers and that she wanted to leave him. She never told me what Hereford did to her that night, but afterward, she was desperate to get you out of England. She thought she could take you to France and you would be safe. A storm that night delayed the ship, so she sent you and Anaya to me to care for you both until she could return.”
Tucker lowered his head. “The rest you know. Today presented him with the perfect opportunity upon which he could not pass. By wedding you to Roxburghe, he wanted me to know that despite everything, his is the final word over your future. And unlike my agreement with him, because he holds Jamie Kerr, he knows he can ask for and will receive anything he wants from Roxburghe.”
Rose could only shake her head. She didn’t understand any of this.
Tucker folded his hands. “Upon your marriage all thatyou have will go to Roxburghe. He will then deed Kirkland Park to Hereford.”
“And Ruark? What of him and his life? What of hisBlack Dragon?”
Tucker lifted his head and looked over her shoulder toward the door. The wooden beads at his waist clattered softly. “Tell me that she is not equal to any bride worthy of your title and your ship, my lord.”
He stood in the shadows backlit by the gray light coming through the corridor’s window. She could not see his face, only the shape of his shoulders, the swing of his cloak, his sword beneath. He had not removed the weapon before stepping into the inner sanctum, which said more clearly than words he did not trust in a higher power to protect him even on holy ground.
She wanted to run to him.
“My lord,” she said.
“Lady Roselyn.” His gaze turned on Tucker. “I would have a word with her,” he said. “Alone.”
Tucker turned to Rose and tried to take her hands. But Rose did not want him to touch her. Not yet. She felt too raw. Betrayed by everyone close to her.
“Very well, Rose,” he said.
After he left, she turned to Ruark. They stood still and looked at each other, though what flowed between them like a fast-moving river current remained unspoken.
“I feel ... I feel nothing,” she said. “Not even anger. Do you think that is bad? I suppose in time, I will feel a great deal more than indifference and a great deal less than anger at my mother.”
He had walked to where she stood and she looked up and saw him through a sheen in her eyes. “You cannot mean to give him theBlack Dragon?”
He looked momentarily startled that her worry was forhim and not for herself. “Aye,” he said. “I was thinking of retiring from the sea, anyway.”
“Truly, you lie.”
He said nothing.
“I am sorry—”
He touched a fingertip to her lips and stopped the words. “Do not apologize to me for anything. Do you understand?” Their gazes held for a heartbeat and his touch softened. “You have nothing for which to be sorry.”
Seeking refuge in the shadows, she folded her arms over her chest. “When I was a little girl I had a fascination with the stars,” she said, raising her eyes to gaze at the painted golden angels on the ceiling. “The constellation Andromeda was my favorite because she gives the appearance of a female warrior holding a sword. Or other times a maiden held by chains. The dichotomy intrigued me. I told myself I would always be the warrior who held the sword. I don’t believe in anything anymore.”
He leaned against the scarred wooden railing that enclosed the chancel and sat his hands on solid wood to brace himself as if he didn’t trust himself to touch her. Then Rose moved in front of him, so close, the fabric of her gown brushed his thighs, and he did touch her then, pulling her nearer to him. She laid her head on his shoulder. “We do not have to do this my father’s way. I cannot be the woman you were forced to wed to save your brother.” Her chest rose and fell. “I would have you promise ...”
He placed his forehead against her temple. “What?”
“If we manage ourselves correctly, the marriage can be annulled. Or you can divorce me,” she said. “ ’Tis been done before, by England’s own monarch. You and I then can be free to live our lives as we choose.”
He held her casually imprisoned between his legs, his fingers splaying her cinched waist. “Aye. ’Twould be asimpler matter severing the vows than merely removing your head.”
She pulled back. “I am trying to be logical about this.”
“No sane Scot would dispute that you are an unsuitable wife for the Roxburghe laird, Sassenach.”
She frowned at his jest. “Then you understand,” she said. “Right?”
