Humbled, she cleared her throat. “I thank you, Sir Cailinand Sir Rónán.”
The knights rose.
Sir Rónán’s eyes filled with appreciation, but sincerity as well. “Know this: Your husband is a stern man, but oneyou can trust.”
Though a stranger, she found comfort in the warrior’s claim, and prayed ’twas true.
Shouts followed by laughter filled the chamber.
Inside, emptiness swelled with a painful ache. She wished her father were there; then this entire mess would never have taken place.
Overwhelmed, exhausted from the chaos of the day, she glanced up, unnerved to find Bróccín’s gaze on her. “I refuse to stay here to celebrate a lie.”
He arched a skeptical brow. “Are you so anxious for the bedding?”
Mary’s will, in the mayhem she’d momentarily forgotten thisunwanted event.
This night he would come to her bed.
Chapter 4
Gwendolyn fought for calm at her husband’s alarming reminder of their upcoming wedding night, of his expectations, of the roleshe must play.
She stared at the celebratory crowd, the blur of smiling faces, toasts, and laughter, wished she was leagues away, anywhere to avoid climbing the steps to her chamber and to her fate.
“Lady Balfour,” Father Iames said, his voice rough with concern as he halted before her, “your face has grown quite pale. Are you ill?”
Lady Balfour,proof of the deed done, confirmation her coveted freedom to live the life she chose was gone. Wanting to shout her outrage, she forced herself to smile at her friend, refusing to add to his concern. “I admit being a bit tired.”
At her side, Lord Balfour’s gaze shifted to her, and his mouth hardened into a frown.
Disapproval narrowed the priest’s eyes as he glanced at him, and her throat tightened, humbled the cleric would, however subtly, dare censor this fierce warrior. Well she understood the expectations ofher this night.
“I thought you hadleft, Father.”
“I went to pack. Before I departed, I wanted to say good-bye.” The cleric slanted his gaze toward her husband, cooled. “Take care of Lady Gwendolyn.”
Lord Balfour gave a solemn nod. “I swear to you that she will be well cared for.”
The elder’s shoulders relaxed. “I thank you. Once my business in Rome is done, I will return.” Father Iames gave her hand a gentle squeeze, then the elder wove his way through the crowd until the flow of his black garb was lost within themill of bodies.
Moments later, the entry to the keep opened, and her chest squeezed tight as her ally slipped into the darkness.
Her husband took her hand. “’Tis time wewent upstairs.”
The hours ahead, secluded with this stranger who now ruled her life, crashed through her in an unnerving rush. Needing a moment more to compose herself, she glanced at the earl. “I would like to remain awhile longer.”
He leaned close to her ear. “I willna linger until those well into their cups haul you upstairs like a marital offering to our bed.”
Heat stroked her cheeks at his reference to the drunken escort many a newlywed bride received toher bedchamber.
Lord Balfour tightened his grip and guided her toward the turret.
“They are leaving!” a deep male voice called from behind them.
“Dinna let them go without us!” another man shouted, and the crowd roaredwith laughter.
Her husband cursed under his breath, and scooped herinto his arms.
