The Bruce stared at him a long moment, then dropped his hand to his side. “I will consider your request. Return to your tent. Once I have decided what to do with the lass, I willsend for her.”
“I thank you, Your Grace.” Confident King Robert would ensure Gwendolyn was kept safe, Aiden gave a low bow and then strode out. He pushed away the sense of loss at never seeing her again. ’Twas for the best. Regardless of his feelings for her, she had no place in his life.
In his tent, Aiden paced. Blast it, soon the Bruce would send for Lady Gwendolyn. Despite his assurances to the king, he wanted to speak to her before that meeting. To say what, he wasn’t sure. Yet leaving her to the Bruce’s decision felt paltry, given all she had experienced and how he had hurt her.
Wincing at his throbbing head, he stood, glanced at Cailin. “I must talkto Gwendolyn.”
His friend stepped before him. “I dinna think ’tis a wise decision, my friend.”
“Move away.”
A muscle worked in Cailin’s jaw. “And what will you say to her that will make anything better? ‘If the priest hadna been called away that fateful night, I would neverhave wed you?’”
“’Tis the truth,” Aiden snapped, damning the words, sounding pathetic even to him. On a heavy sigh, he rubbed the back of his neck, thankful for the dry clothes, feeling warm for the first time since he had jumped into the river. “I need to try.”
“God’s teeth,” Cailin charged, “think! What will talking to her change? Will it lessen her anger? Make the false wedding not exist?”
Fists clenched, he glared at his friend, the weight of his lies a stain upon his soul. However intimate, at least he hadn’t taken the unconscionable step of consummating their farce of a marriage; for that he never could have forgiven himself.
On a rough breath, Aiden shook his head. “Your questions are ones I have asked myself. YetI need to try.”
“You care for her,” his friend said, his voice softening, “but the last thing I want to see is for you to make things worse.For you both.”
“Ironic, is it not? Over the years, the life of a Templar fulfilled me, a life I was willing to die for. Never did I imagine a time would come when I would find a woman who would make me care. Now,” Aiden rasped, his throat tight, “I doubt if I will ever forget her.”
“Mayhap if you speak with King Robert about seeking herhand, he will—”
“The war to reclaim Scotland is far from over. Nor do I have anythingto offer her.”
Cailin frowned. “You are theEarl of Lenox.”
“Nay longer,” Aiden snapped, cursing the reminder. “After my family died, I returned to Thorburn Castle to find my home seized by the English. Any claim to the stronghold, or my nobility, is long since lost.” The throbbing in his head grew. “I can offer Gwendolyn naught but the title of wife to a landless knight.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Regardless, after what has transpired, even if I held the rank of duke, she would never welcome meinto her life.”
Sympathy darkened his friend’s gaze. “But you dinnaknow for sure.”
“Her eyes,” he whispered, aching at the memory. “God help me, the hurt, the anger. After my betrayal, I deserved both. Though I dinna expect her to forgive me, I must try to explain, and to prepare her for what may come. For her, ’tisfar from over.”
On an exasperated sigh, his friend glanced at his injury. “How fares your head?”
He skimmed his fingers gingerly across the gash Rónán had sewn.“’Twill heal.”
Cailin grimaced. “I am still trying to accept the Templar ties to Latharn Castle.”
“I as well. ’Twas astonishing to learn that, like Avalon Castle, Latharn Castle had been designed by the Brotherhood.” Aiden paused. “You can imagine my surprise when Gwendolyn informed me of the tunnels and hidden chambers below, more so that her great-grandfather hadna designed but overseen the buildingof the refuge.”
“I was shocked when the Bruce confirmed your suspicion,” his friend agreed. He paused. “How will you convince Gwendolyn to tell you where the secret ledger is?”
“I will find a way.” A dubious task, considering she despised him, but one that, for his king, he would achieve. Aiden glanced toward her tent, gave a deep sigh. “If I am to succeed on any front, I must speak with Gwendolyn before the kingsends for her.”
“Go,” Cailin said. “I will let you know when the Bruce requestsher presence.”
“My thanks.” Aiden stepped outside, the warmth of the late afternoon sun far from easing the heaviness in his heart.
Birds chirped in the trees, the murmurs of men filled the air, but he focused on her tent.
At his approach, the Knights Templar guarding the shelter nodded. “Aiden.”
“Quentin, how does Lady Gwendolyn fare?”
