Astride his bay, Cailin glanced toward the tower. His gaze met Aiden’s a moment before he cantered beneaththe gatehouse.
Aiden made the sign of the cross and prayed his friend reached theBruce in time.
Worries of the upcoming meeting with the duke and his knights weighing heavily on his mind, Aiden gathered the few belongings he’d left there the previous night, crossed the room, and tugged open the door. He stilled.
Paces away, her face flushed,stood his wife.
* * * *
Her pulse racing, Gwendolyn lowered the blankets in her arms and stared at the stranger she’d wed. A man who confused and tormented her, a noble at odds with the warrior Sir Piereshad described.
Except there was no denying that, due to her husband’s involvement, an invading force had moved into her castle.
Her knees weakened by his commanding presence, how he dwarfed the space around him, leaving little room to put much-needed distance between them, confines that in the dark of the night left the setting too intimate.
“My lord husband. The Englishmen from the ships have filled all the available chambers.”
“Which means…?”
She frowned, irritated to have to explain the obvious. “This morning, in preparation for Lord Comyn’s arrival, I readied the chamber I had promised you for him.”
“Your point?” he pressed.
The words scraped her throat, his formidable presence piling atop her omission like a weight as she glanced at the few items in his arms. “Regardless of both our wishes, your other possessions have been moved into my chamber for the duration of his stay.”
For a moment he did not speak, though his eyes flared with unreadableheat. “I see.”
To Hades with him for being able to intimidate her. ’Twas her home. More important, there were bigger issues to deal with, those that involved her people. “Our food stores are inadequate for the additional men.”
With a shrug, Bróccín placed the contents in his arms atop the remainder of his belongings, then walked to the window and leaned against the frame. He glanced out for a long moment, then faced her. “I will lead a hunt.”
She forced her frustration aside. Her husband wasn’t from this locale, nor had he time to review the ledgers to understand the seriousness the extra mouths presented.
“Due to the years of war, much of the wildlife and crops are depleted. The few homes still standing have long since been raided, leaving little for those who remain.”
Bitterness iced his gaze as he shoved away from the window. A pace away, he paused. “There is naught fair in war. ’Tis a violent clash for power. Few win in their lethal quest, for the path to victory is riddled with the bodies ofthe innocent.”
His impassioned words cut through her. Shaken, she fought to refocus her thoughts. Any belief she carried of his indifference to the carnage spawned in battle dissolved on her blistering breath and further chipped away at the wall she’d built around her heart.
Fighting to control the riot of emotions, she walked to the chest. Hand trembling, she flipped open the top, dumped the blankets inside, and then secured the top. She turned. “Earlier this morning, I sent out several fishermen. Their catch will add to whatever game you and the men return with.”
Her husband nodded. “Sir Cailin returned a short while ago with several rabbits.”
“I thank you.” Swallowing, she lifted her chin. “I am surprised you didna mention the duke’s coming arrival at ourfirst meeting.”
“Why?” he asked, his brow raising as if with a careless afterthought. “The Englishman’s arrival or that of his force has naught to do with you.”
The arrogant ass! “When my home is infiltrated by theEnglish,” she growled, “by men who will deplete our already strained resources, and possibly pose a threat to those I protect, it haseverythingto do with me.”
Irritation darkened his gaze. “The time the English will remain at the strongholdwill be brief.”
How dare he dismiss her concerns? “Theyare herenow!”
Hard eyes held hers. “You dinna like the English?”
“I am loyal to my liege lord,” she said, her voice unapologetic, “a Scot. But I struggle to condone the presence of warriors in my home who are loyal to a king who seeks to claim Scotland as his own.”
“The Hammer of the Scots is dead,” her husband said with soft precision as he watched her. “His son isna a man driven to war, to collect lands or power for his ownvain purposes.”
