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The Warrior’s Queen

Page 73

by Cecelia Mecca

“Not here,” she managed, but it didn’t seem to matter. The throbbing came quicker. Intensified. She looked down, grabbed a fistful of his hair and let go.

Somehow she didn’t scream, or even make a sound. Her hands clenched around him and then her body went limp. Luckily, Graeme held her up, because Gillian would easily have slipped to the ground and lain there, content, until discovered.

Wouldn’t that give them something to talk about?

Realizing she was still clutching Graeme’s head, Gillian released him. He stood then, and she looked up into his eyes as he reached inside her gown and pulled the material over her breast. Without speaking, she grabbed her husband’s hand and led him into the hall and then toward her bedchamber, marveling all along that she was the kind of woman who would do such a thing. Lead a man through these halls, having just been thoroughly ravished, with the intent of making love to him. She would have giggled at the absurdity of it, but a voice behind them stopped Gillian cold.

22

“Gillian.”

She turned slowly. Had he seen them together in the alcove?

“Aye, Father?” Though she tried to steady her voice, Gillian was sure the effort was unsuccessful. Graeme looked at her as if she’d suddenly sprouted wings.

“I hope you’re feeling better. You said you wanted to speak to me earlier?”

She wasn’t fooled. Her father’s calm demeanor was for Graeme’s benefit. He was no more amenable now than he’d been since Covington came into their lives.

“I did.” What could she say? She doubted she could lie to him, and surely he wouldn’t believe her if she said she was content to let the situation unfold.

“I would like to speak to you as well,” her father said.

“You would?”

Gillian couldn’t hide her shock. Lately, the only time her father wished to speak with her was to admonish her for something. But what could she possibly have done wrong now? Other than marrying Graeme, of course.

“I am not leaving her side,” Graeme interjected.

The men glared at one another.

“Father?”

He finally shifted his dark expression to her.

“I’m not angry,” her father said. “Your husband hates me. Has a right to, in fact.”

Graeme did not disagree.

“But I would not want to think my daughter does as well.”

She looked back and forth between the men. Though he struggled to keep his expression neutral, Graeme did indeed appear as if he wanted to murder her father.

“I regret how events have transpired. And I know you don’t agree with your sister’s betrothal—”

“Father, how could you?” The words burst out of her, regardless of what she’d promised her sister.

“I have no choice.”

Gillian broke away from her husband and went to the man who had raised her.

“Of course you do. The title—”

“Title? You think I’d marry your sister off to Covington to retain a title?”

His voice echoed against the stone walls of the corridor.

“You know as well as I do that Lyndwood is on the verge of being lost. And do you know how it came to be in this family?”