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The Guardian’s Favor

Page 83

by Cecelia Mecca

She stood up once again, embarrassed to have been caught in such a position.

“Gillian.” She turned to greet the lady of Highgate.

“Our physician is here. Aidan sent for him to look at your head. Will you come with me to the solar and allow him to examine it?”

Aidan sent for him.

Of course he had. Her chest constricted at the memory of him standing in front of her, his back to her.

And oh my . . . what a back it was. When she’d touched him—

“This way,” Gillian said.

Clarissa’s cheeks flooded with heat. She’d made the worst decision of her life, and still she stood here thinking of Aidan in that way. A lump formed in her throat. No, no . . . she would not cry. Not in front of Lady Gillian.

“So tell me, what happened to your . . . oh, Clarissa . . .”

She could no sooner stop the tears from falling than she could take back the miserable excursion that had earned her Aidan’s disdain.

“Come here,” Gillian said, holding Clarissa as if she were a newborn babe. It was too late to stop the tears now. Her shoulders shook with the pain of her decisions.

“I only wanted to protect him,” she muttered against Gillian’s shoulder.

“I know you did. He knows that too.”

“No, I’ve ruined everything. He hates me—”

Gillian pushed her away gently and frowned.

“Nay, he does nothing of the sort. Aidan loves you, Clarissa. Everyone can see that. He may be angry, but that doesn’t change the way he feels about you.”

Gillian reached up and wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. How could this woman, a stranger, be kinder to her than her own father? How could she care for her more than the man who’d brought her into this world?

Holding her gaze, Gillian added, “And I know you love him too.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “So, the question remains, what will you do about it?”

And she’d thought the woman so sweet.

“I suppose I should find him, tell him—”

But Gillian was already shaking her head. “Those are just words. You need to show him.”

“Show him?”

Clarissa was prepared to do anything it took. She’d realized something after her near miss with the reiver. She valued herself—and her happiness. And she was willing to fight for it. Despite the harsh words her father and former husband had spewed, she was worthy.

“Aye.” She wiped away the last vestiges of the tears that would not help her win Aidan back. “I will show him,” she promised, “and when I win him back, I will never, ever leave again.”

* * *

“You look beautiful. Doesn’t she look beautiful?” Allie asked her sister.

Clarissa could not believe how perfectly Gillian’s gown fit her. When she’d tried to go back to her chamber in the Prison Tower after the physician’s examination, Gillian had refused to allow it. In fact, Clarissa’s belongings, which she’d left behind, were already being brought into the main keep.

On Gillian’s orders, a tub had been brought to the lord and lady’s chamber for Clarissa, and when Graeme had attempted to come into the room earlier to prepare for the evening meal, his wife had told him to leave. Clarissa had argued against it. After all, winning back Aidan’s heart should not involve angering his brother and the chief of his clan. But Gillian had not accepted no for an answer.

Fiona and Morgan had flitted in and out of the room, helping Clarissa prepare for supper, and by the time they were finished with her, she had to admit she’d never felt so fussed over in her life. The navy blue gown Gillian had foisted on her suited her perfectly, ornamented simply with a silver belt, and her hair had been brushed until it was gleaming as brightly as a newly polished piece of armor. Clarissa had tried to pull it back, away from her face as was her custom, but the women insisted she leave it down.

“I will not take that gown back,” Gillian said, looking at her with an assessing eye. “It was made for you.”