“Tiran Castle.”
Her mind whirling, Elspet listened as he described the events since the attack, gasping at the last. “Your father is alive?”
Fury coiled in her gut as he explained how his uncle had killed Cailin’s mother, allowing everyone to believe the earl had died in the hunting accident as well. But he’d imprisoned his brother and found twisted enjoyment in tormenting him since.
“I am glad the scoundrel is dead!”
“As I. Gaufrid canneverhurt anyone again.” Cailin skimmed his thumb along the curve of her jaw, the tension on his face easing. “I canna wait until you meet my father. Hewill love you.”
“Will he?” Caught up in the mayhem of the past few weeks, until this moment she’d forgotten one simple fact. She shifted, ignoring the radiating pain, then took a steadying breath. “I am a simple lass without a family, muchless a dowry.”
“That willnamatter to him.”
“How can you be sure?” she whispered, her unease growing. “What if he disapproves? What if he—”
Cailin smothered her words with a tender kiss. A twinkle in his eyes, he cupped her face. “My mother was the daughter of a Viking blacksmith. They met when hewas traveling.”
Her mouth fell open. “’Tis incredible.”
“As are you.” Cailin rolled to his side. “However much I wish to stay and talk, to be with you in every way, for now youneed to rest.”
He started to move back, and she caught his arm.“Stay with me.”
“I—”
“Please. I dinna want to be alone, at least for a while.”
Love filled his eyes as he settled beside her and drew her into his arms. “I couldna think of being anywhere else. I love you, Elspet, and plan on spending the rest of mylife with you.”
* * * *
A fortnight later, in the solar, Cailin secured his sword and turned toward his father, thankful that in the passing days, his gaunt form had filled out and he now glowed with good health. Nor did he move with difficulty. Food and rest had allowed his body to heal.
The scent of fresh rushes filled the air and flames danced cheerfully in the hearth as Lord Dalkirk poured a cup of wine, then another. With a smile he passed the latter to Cailin. “A toast to your upcoming wedding!”
Cailin lifted his goblet, took a sip of the tangy brew. “There is one more thing I must share.” Aware his next words might drive a wedge between them, he hesitated. Blast it, he should have broached thematter before.
At his somber tone, the earl lowered his cup.
Cailin’s fingers tightened on the stem of the goblet. “My fealty is nay longer to Lord Comyn, but to King Robert.”
His father’s brow raised. “I met the Bruce years ago during a meeting with Bishop Wishart in regards to Scotland’s fight forindependence.”
“You never told me. Nordid the king.”
“You were a young lad. The day would come when I could explain, or so I believed.” He swirled the ruby liquid in the crafted goblet before taking a sip. “As for the Bruce, I wasna surprised to learn he’d become Scotland’s king. ’Twas his rightful place, the crown stolen from his grandfather through King Edward’s interferenceyears before.”
“Then you arena angry that I have given the Bruce my fealty?”
A smile creased his father’s face. “Nay. I assure you, ’tis one I pledge as well. I never respected Lord Comyn.”
Cailin’s relief faded against the hard knowledge that soon he would depart. “There is one more thing. I will be sending a writ to the king, explaining that you are alive and Tiran Castle is seized. Soon after, I expect a missive with his orders instructing me where I must go to support his fight to claim Scotland.”
His father gave a solemn nod. “A battle I will join once I am in full health.”
“Nay, your place is here. I ask that while I am away, you keep watch over Elspet.”
Somber eyes held his. “’Twould be an honor. She is a fine lass, one who knowsher own mind.”
