Page 84 of Marin’s Promise

Drake pulled a chair forward and the man sank gratefully into it. When had Drake arrived? Had he always been there?

Marin’s head spun; her whole world held in a state of purgatory.

“Go on,” Bran said from beside her.

The man lowered his gaze. “The Earl of Werrick is dead.”

Marin staggered. The news slammed into her heart with the force of a war hammer and purged her of all thought and breath. Only pain remained. An ache that cut so deeply, it bore into her soul. Strong arms caught her shoulders and curled her in a protective embrace she scarcely registered.

Not her father. Mother had already left them in a horrific death, and now her father… Her father…

Her mind flinched from the words she could not say even in her head.

How could this be? He was a powerful man, not only in ranking, but also in stature. After he'd recovered from Mother's death, his bravery and strength had returned. How could a man such as he be cut down in battle as though he were a simple soldier?

Her heart crumpled under a clench of hurt.

Her father's face filled her mind, the crinkled corners of his eyes when he smiled at her, all the love shining there when he told her how proud she made him. She would never see that expression on his face again, never hear the rich timber of his voice, never feel the comfort of his hand upon her shoulder.

The door flew open and her three blonde sisters fell into the room along with a large dog.

Cat opened her mouth as though she meant to offer a witty remark. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears and she merely shook her head.

“Papa.” Ella's gaze cast to the ground in solemnity. “Just like Mother.”

“What news of the other soldiers?” Anice asked in a trembling voice. “Have you heard news of Lord Clarion?”

The man grimaced at the name. “Forgive me, my lady. I fear I bring grave news of him as well.”

Anice curled her fingers around the base of her throat, as if she could no longer draw breath. The small ruby ring on her finger caught the light. “You do not mean…”

The man lowered his head with sorrow. “Aye, my lady. He is dead.”

“Geordie.” Cat fell to her knees in front of the messenger’s chair, peering up at him. “Did he fall in battle?”

The man regarded her and shook his head. “Nay, young Geordie has survived.”

Anice staggered back on legs that did not appear to hold her. “My father…and my betrothed…” Piquette whimpered and edged nervously around her.

“Forgive me, my lady.” The man's voice had gone gravelly. “There were so many dead.” His eyes went distant, haunted. “So very many.”

Anice sagged against the doorway and the color drained from her face. Drake was there in a moment, sweeping her into his arms as if she weighed nothing.

Anice turned her face to Drake’s chest and sobbed, deep, wracking tears that tore at Marin's heart. Piquette watched his mistress anxiously.

“Was Berwick such a loss?” Marin asked, incredulous.

“Nay, we won Berwick with nearly no casualties on our side.” The messenger scrubbed a hand over his weary face. “It was reivers. They attacked us as we headed home. We overpowered them, but not without our own losses.”

Tears burned hot in Marin’s eyes, tears she could not stop even if she tried. “Drake, please take Anice to the girls’ chambers. We must tell Leila.”

She cleared the grief from her throat, for the moment at least. “Thank you for bringing this news to us,” she said to the soldier. “You did so at great danger to yourself and we appreciate your risk. Please go to the kitchen for food. I will have Isla see to you and ensure you have a bath and bed waiting for you when you have finished.”

He lowered his head, more in a hang of defeat than a nod of compliance. “Aye, my lady. Thank you.”

No sooner had she finished speaking, the tightness in her throat welled once more with the threat of tears. But she was not a girl. She was the lady of Werrick Castle. She was her father's daughter. Determined and strong.

She would not let others see her tears as she straightened and led the way to the room all the sisters shared. She would be their support now as she'd been when their mother had died. Drake lay Anice into the bed, concern etched deep on his face. Piquette leapt up onto the mattress by Anice’s side and Drake departed with apparent hesitation. Ella and Cat cuddled beside her, their own sorrow leaving their eyes and noses red.