I must confess that I had somewhat selfish motives in my offer to give Edina the day off. I had been on kitchen duty for nearly two weeks now and it was brutal. As far as I could tell, no other servant in the castle was expected to work the hours I did without taking a rest. I now spent more time with Queen Finelle than was necessary. It was still tiring work but not as strenuous as working in the kitchen. I wish I had not been so adamant about no one telling Reagan what was going on. I knew he would have put a stop to it, but I would not be so weak as to go to him with it myself.
The queen still insisted on me calling her by her given name and it felt wrong every time I said it. She had surprised me further on this day when she said she wanted to eat dinner at the table with her boys. I was fairly certain this was a pleasing new development in her healing process. I protested to no avail when she asked me to dine with her family.
I watched Glynis as she made preparations to serve this noon day meal. Even though she was in charge of all of the other kitchen workers, I had been told that she had insisted on overseeing every meal served to the royal family since Dunbar had been poisoned. She seemed fair as she doled out my duties each day, but I had to wonder what part of this would make its way back to Arlana. Well, she could take it up with the queen if she did not approve.
I would not say I enjoyed the meal. I tried to stay in the background of the private, family conversation. I think it all went well, but it just as easily could have gone the other way. I had breathed a sigh of relief when the queen indicated that she was ready to go back to her bedchamber. That relief was cut short by her suggestion that I should take a walk with her son in the garden. Arlana really would have a fit when she found this out.
When Reagan and I stepped out into the chill of the autumn air, I was thankful for his mother’s cloak. The trees were starting to lose their colorful coats leaving a crisp blanket beneath our feet. The garden was also dotted with evergreens that would keep their color all year. I started to relax as we meandered down the garden path.
“That was some conversation we had during dinner. I do not know whether it was good or bad for us to talk about Father. Sometimes I think it would be better if we could just forget he ever existed.”
I looked at Reagan, but he kept his gaze straight ahead of us. “It just does not work that way. Even if you try to forget the things he did, I believe it will sneak into your thoughts in unguarded moments. I think that is the way God designed it. We are meant to learn from our past.”
“It is Father’s past I would like to forget.”
“I think I would rather learn from mistakes others have made than from my own. Take your father’s life for instance. You can look to the mistakes he has made and decide not to do them yourself. That would be so much easier than following in those footsteps only to look back with regret at the results of your own mistakes.”
“I guess that makes sense.”
“There is the other side to be looked at as well. I did not really know your father, but judging by what I have heard, he had some good attributes. You could choose to emulate what is good and try to leave out the bad. I think that is what your mother is attempting to get you to do. She was trying to bring up only the good memories today. I think it is her way of healing, and she wants to help her children do the same.”
“How did you become so smart about such things while I am muddling through?”
We had come to a stop. Turning to face him, I reached for his hand as I looked him in the eye. There was nothing romantic in my gesture. I wanted to bring healing to the pain I saw there.
“It is only easier for me because I am not bogged down by the same tragedies your family has had to endure. I cannot tell you how sorry I am for what you have been through. I can only imagine the heartache all of you have felt.”
I worried that I had gone too far when I noticed his eyes glistening with unshed tears. I did not hesitate when he pulled me into a hug. There was nothing untoward in this embrace, but again I thought of Arlana’s reaction if she were to find out. Constantly worrying about what the stewardess would think was making me crazy. It had never been my nature to worry about what others thought of me. Of course, I had never needed to before.
Reagan stepped past me toward a cage attached to the castle wall. I pretended not to notice when he wiped the moisture from his eyes.
“I promised to introduce you to my falcon. Meet Allister.” He gestured toward something above us.
My gaze traveled up the length of the small tree within the enclosure. A large bird sat on one of the bare limbs at the top. It stared down at me with its beady black eyes as if Reagan was introducing me as the bird’s next meal. The white belly and underside of his wings were white, dotted with dashes of black. The rest of him was covered in grayish-black feathers. I would never choose anything with those razor sharp claws and beak as a pet.
“One day you will have to come out when the trainer is here so you can pet him.”
“I think I will pass. I like for my pets to have fur—not feathers.”
He laughed. “To be honest, I am not that attached to him myself. I had no idea they required so much attention when I asked for a falcon. His trainer is always chiding me to spend more time with him but there never seems to be enough, especially now.”
He took my hand and led me further down the path. We came around a corner and there was an archery range set up near the back of the garden wall. “I have been meaning to show you this since you arrived. I want you to feel welcome to come back here and practice any time you like. The only other place with a target is near the barracks. I did not think you would want to shoot there with a bunch of men watching.”
“Are you afraid your men will not be able to overcome their inferiority at being bested by a woman?”
This brought out his laughter as I had hoped it would. “I remember well what that is like.”
“You may finally have the advantage over me. I have not practiced since before I left Aisling.”
He reached and tucked strands of stray hair behind my ear, leaving his warm hand cupped on the side of my face. “We will have to make it a date then. Tomorrow afternoon, you bring your bow and we will practice together.”
My mind frantically searched for the right thing to say. I could not use my work in the kitchen as an excuse without telling him of Arlana’s orders. “Reagan, if we start making plans to spend time together, people will get the wrong impression. There is already gossip about us going on around the castle.”
“So, let them talk.”
It seemed like one moment he was just standing there looking at me and the very next we were in each other’s arms with his lips pressed to mine. I had been kissed before. Like I had said, there had never been a spark with any of those boys. What I felt when Reagan kissed me was not exactly a spark either. It was more like an inferno burning up my very core. He grabbed my bottom lip in between his and gently pulled, and I thought I would melt into the ground right in front of him.
Eventually, that voice of reason that had been whispering in the backside of my head began to be heard. Reagan had a reputation. This experience probably had no more effect on him than the countless other women he had kissed before me. I felt something in that instant that I had never felt before—jealousy. Where had that come from?
I started pulling back from the kiss, but I could not resist touching my lips to his in a few quick repetitions before pulling completely away from him. I tried to control my breathing in an attempt to show that his kiss had not affected me to the extent that it had.
He looked at me with half closed eyes. His hand was still cupping my face, and he began rubbing his thumb in a circular motion at the corner of my mouth. “You do not know how often I have dreamed of kissing you. I have to say that kiss exceeded my expectations.”
He was very good. He had lots of practice saying the right things to women. I felt irrational anger toward him and more deservingly toward myself for wanting to fall for his charms.
I placed my hands on his chest and pushed away from him. “I need to go check on your mother.”
This was clearly not what he had expected for me to say. He ran his fingers through his dark hair. “I am sorry, Gwen. I know I have moved too fast. Please forgive me, but do not shut me out. We can talk about this.”
I pulled my borrowed cape around me. “There is nothing to talk about. Nora will be here soon to take my place, and I really do need to check on Queen Finelle before I go. We will see each other again soon enough. Until then.”
I curtsied in front of him and then hurried away.
“Gwen, wait.” He took a few steps after me and then seemed to think better of chasing me. I was relieved but disappointed as well. It seemed that he had indeed gotten the kiss he said he had wanted and now it was over. The problem was, the longing that had ended for him, had just begun for me.
After hanging the queen’s cape by the door, I eased down the hall and into her bedchamber. She had her back turned toward me, but I could tell by the steady rhythm of her breathing that she was asleep.
Of its own accord, my mind replayed that kiss more than once as I sat there in the quiet, darkened room. I kept looking toward the door every few minutes thinking Reagan would be there, but I was so caught up in my own memories that I jumped when Nora came in.
She followed me back out into the hallway so I could tell her about the queen’s day without disturbing our patient. There were only good things to report on this day. I could tell she was surprised when I told how Queen Finelle had eaten dinner with her sons. I left out the part where I sat at the same table with them and of the conversation that was had about King Coman. The fewer who knew about the first, the better, and the latter was none of anyone else’s concern.