Page 39 of The Return of the Heir

“Every young man should know how to defend himself and those he cares for.”

“And women do not deserve such consideration? Are they not in need of protecting themselves and others as well?”

He lifted a brow and drew closer to her. “Anytime you would like to learn to wield a sword, only say the word and I will teach you.”

She lifted her chin in challenge. “You would teach your enemies how to fight?”

“You, dear Gwendolyn, are not my enemy.” He wished she looked less challenging and more vulnerable. He was having a difficult time recalling her recent suffering when he was having his own immediate physical response to her presence. Without being conscious of what he was doing, he gently took her chin between his forefinger and thumb, tipping her face up to his. He moved his thumb from her chin to her lower lip, rubbing lightly against its inviting fullness. He realised what he was doing and released her, his hands falling to his sides.

She swallowed roughly and looked away, drew a breath, then turned back to him. “What are you going to do about being betrothed to two women?” In her eyes he saw both fear and uncertainty. She was no doubt thinking of not only her survival, but that of her siblings.

“What would you like to happen?”

Her glance slid away. “I have no opinion in this matter.”

“That’s not true. I believe you have several opinions and I’d like to hear them.”

“I cannot decide your fate.”

He arched a brow. “But you’d like me to decide yours?”

Gwendolyn’s teeth pressed hard into her lower lip. “It’s not just myself I need to consider. I’m afraid for Arabella.”

“She’ll recover in time. I will spare no expense in seeing her returned to health. Besides, the progress she’s made so far proves your sister is a lot like you—strong and determined.”

“I thank you for your support of Arabella. As for myself, I’ve had to be strong my whole life. Which is why I know I can survive losing you if that is what you choose. Can Beatrice do the same?”

She had neatly managed to turn this conversation back on him. “Beatrice has not suffered the way you have. That fact alone is more than enough of a reason to choose you as my bride. You need the security marriage can bring to your life and that of your kin far more than Beatrice does.”

Her brow furrowed. “Why did you agree to a marriage that the council set forth?”

He winced at the words. “Is it that obvious that the match between Beatrice and myself is not a love match?”

“Those are your words, not mine, and you still didn’t answer the question.”

He shrugged. “The entire council seemed to welcome the match in order to facilitate peace amongst the clans.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You would sacrifice your own happiness for the council?”

She had laid his decision out before him with simplicity, but the situation was quite complex. He could either have love and marriage with major conflicts amongst the clans, or he could have peace between the clans and a marriage that was lacking. “Peace amongst the clans is vital,” he said, his expression grave.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. “Might we talk of other things?”

“Certainly.”

“Would you tell me what it was like for you in the tower?”

“Why would you want to know that?”

He offered her an encouraging smile as he motioned to two chairs near the bookshelves. “I’ve heard talking about a tragedy, or a time of great emotion, can be very cathartic. Perhaps it will help you move forward with your life, in whatever form that takes.”

She pursed her lips, thinking. “It was very dark and very cold.”

When she said nothing more, Alastair’s anger flared. “That is all? Pray tell, did you like being chained to a wall? Or not knowing if or when someone might come to feed you, or bring you water?”

She tensed and her cheeks flamed. “Nay, I didn’t enjoy being chained to the wall like an animal. I hated not knowing when or where Garrick would appear, or wondering if this was the day he would finally kill all of us. I was hungry, thirsty, desperate, and so alone. Even though we had each other, I still felt as though I was in a cocoon, wanting to die, and wanting to live with equal measure. After the first few months, when I’d become more settled into our bizarre reality, the desire to live started to override everything else. I wanted to live to feel the sun shine down upon my face once more, to feel the soft grass slip between my toes. I wanted to live for my brother and sister, to see them grow up and to one day run free as I had done for many more years than they ever had.” Gwendolyn drew in a ragged breath. “Is that what you wanted to know? What it’s like to be a prisoner?”

Agony coiled in his chest. “I wanted to know what I did to you by not protecting you on our wedding day. I should have walked into the chapel beside you. I’ve replayed that day over and over in my mind hundreds of times.” He looked up at her miserably.

She reached out, took his hands in hers. Her delicate fingers folded around his larger ones.

He held tight as if she were a lifeline. “In every scenario, I failed you. For that I am so terribly sorry.”

“Neither of us is at fault. We cannot live backwards. It is how we move forward into the future that matters.” At her gentle smile, Alastair felt as though a suffocating weight had been lifted from his chest.

The anxiety that had shadowed her eyes since yesterday vanished, replaced with a glimmer of hope.

“Gwendolyn, I have no right to ask anything more of you, but in this moment, you are the only one I want by my side as I investigate who amongst us might have aided Garrick in his release from our prison.”

Gwendolyn released his hand with a light squeeze before settling back into her chair. “I will help you do anything if it means Garrick will pay for what he’s done to all of us.”

Alastair smiled as the pain of the past faded away. “Good. Here’s what I have in mind.”