You may not agree with your choice of husband, and you may find what was done to you unjust for you both. I wish you could have had more time to prepare, but someday you will come to know Ruark Kerr as I know him. I truly believe that fate brought you together. Now it is up to you both to open your hearts.
The letter in Rose’s hand had neither wafer nor wax. He signed the letter only asFather.
Friar Tucker rarely went by Father, though many called him such. She looked down at the box delivered with the letter earlier in the evening.
“Is there anything more ye need me to do, my lady?” Anaya asked Rose.
The maid stood in the doorway that separated the small sitting room from the bedchamber. Rose absently smoothed a stray wisp of hair from her face as she turned from her place on the stool.
Anaya folded her hands in front of her. “I have added a feather tic to the bed.”
Rose forced a smile. “Do you have a place to sleep tonight?”
The woman dipped slightly in reply. “Lord Roxburghe said I was to stay in Friar Tucker’s room, now that he is gone. He said Mr. Colum will fetch me when ye are ready to leave in the morn.”
“Did he say anything else? About Friar Tucker, I mean.”
“Nay, mum. All his lordship said was that I am to be prepared to leave here with ye before dawn, my lady.”
Anaya looked about her as she worried that she had forgotten something. The woman had helped Rose remove her dress and comb out her hair. She had packed Rose’s one small trunk and laid out tomorrow’s attire, which was the same traveling dress in which Rose had arrived. The blue-and-yellow beribboned garment was a bright spot on the droll seventeenth-century settee.
Rose had no idea the time that had passed since Mr. Colum had left her at the door that evening, but she wanted to be alone now. “You have done enough for me, Anaya,” Rose said, liking the woman but uncomfortable with her over-willingness to please, and unused to servants. “Go seek your bed and hopefully some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day for us all.”
“Yes, mum.”
Before she could leave, Rose stopped her. “Anaya ... thank you.”
“Yes, mum. Thank you. His lordship asked if I wanted to stay with ye once we returned to Stonehaven, my lady. I said ’twould be an honor. I will see you in the morning.”
Rose heard the door shut behind Anaya in the other room.
Wearing a simple nightdress and robe, she had been awaiting Ruark’s onerous arrival in a place of warmth.A single candle on the table and the coals in the brazier provided the only light and warmth in the room.
Returning her attention to the plain wooden box on the floor, she rose from the stool where she had sat to read Friar Tucker’s letter. She folded the letter and laid it aside, then knelt and worked the lid off the box.
It contained her mother’s threadbare purple-and-green plaid wrap. The one Rose had worn most every day of her young life. A palm-sized Bible Friar Tucker had given her when she was five, various silly trinkets collected over the years. Her entire life contained within a plain wooden box the size of a turnip basket.
Nothing was as she had once imagined it would be.
With a false sense of bravado, she left her place beside the warm brazier and walked to the table, where she poured sweet red wine into a goblet. She nursed the rim of the cup, unable just to tip it back and drain the contents. Her stomach would not allow it, any more than it had allowed her to eat that evening.
She did not want to be intoxicated tonight. However unplanned this marriage had been, ’twas still her wedding night. She wanted to remember it.
The door opened a crack, as if someone had turned the latch but was not yet ready to enter. She heard Ruark speaking to someone outside the room, probably Colum. He entered the room, not seeing her at first. He hesitated, then shut the door behind him, and slid the bolt home. He carried himself with ease.
His leather boots, turned down at the cuffs, gave him unnecessary height. Whoever had built these rooms had not had tall men in mind. Her new husband’s head was mere inches from the wooden beam that braced the ceiling. His gaze wandered over the room before finally coming to rest on her.
Her white dressing gown afforded her little protection from the heat of his gaze. A blue ribbon closed the robe and tied beneath her breasts. Anaya had seen to her appearance. She didn’t have to look at herself to know the low décolletage revealed the soft rounding of her breasts above its scalloped lace. Her hair, falling softly to her waist, had been brushed to a sheen. She had not the least doubt that she was beautiful. She had wanted to be beautiful.
Ruark braced his back against the door and folded his arms. She could not read his thoughts, but her heart raced as if she had consumed more than a few sips of wine.
“You would test my mettle further?” she asked, wondering why he was not moving toward her.
She also noted that he wore no sword or dirk.
“Nay, love. I know your mettle. But since my life depends on my caution these next few days, I am merely taking note of my surroundings.”
Their old repertoire returned some of her verve. “Surely you do not think I would attempt to murder you?” she said with nonchalance.
