Meleri went into the garden and set about gathering some of the herbs, pulling many of them up by the roots, to be dried and stored for use during the coming winter. Others she would tie in bundles and hang from the overhead beams in the kitchen. She was so busy working she did not hear someone approach until Corrie and Dram, who had been lying nearby, sprang to their feet.
She turned around. The basket in her hand fell to the ground. “Philip!” she whispered, as if he were another apparition.
He stepped closer. “Don’t look so surprised, fair Meleri. Surely, you did not think I would take your disappearance lightly. After all, we have been betrothed for many years. Did you think you could simply walk out of my life and I would have no feeling about it?”
She was stunned to see him, but that did not override her curiosity. “How did you find me?”
“It was not easy, I assure you, but let us not dwell upon the past.”
“Why are you here?”
“You are my betrothed. I came to take you home.”
“Oh please, at least tell me the truth. Do you truly think I could believe all of that poppycock? The truth is, you don’t care for me, Philip. You never cared. You only tolerated me because I was your father’s choice.”
“You are wrong there. Losing you left me devastated, blind and wandering, begging with a bowl.”
“I don’t believe this. Now your words are dripping with sentimentality. What will you try next?”
“You wound me. Truly, I have suffered greatly. Just the thought that you had walked out of my life cut deeply. That you could do so without a backward glance was like a mortal blow.”
“It was nothing more than you deserved.”
“It pains me greatly to have to agree with you. I treated you abominably, simply because I was a fool. I had not the slightest inkling as to your value….”
“My dowry, you mean.”
“That is not it at all. I simply had no idea of what you meant to me, until you were gone. I hope to God I never endure that kind of agony again.”
She tilted her head to one side and studied his face—unreadable as it always was. He looked worse than death. Perhaps he was speaking the truth. Perhaps he, truly, did grieve over her loss. His face was haggard, his eyes red, and he was not clean-shaven like he always was. It was obvious, even to her, that he had lost weight. Yes, he certainly looked as though he had suffered. Was it because of her?
No, you ninny! It is not because of you. Don’t you fall for any of this, she told herself. This is Lord Waverly, remember? Waverly the underhanded. Waverly the cruel. Waverly the cunning. Whatever you do, you cannot, must not, trust him. Be wise and shrewd in your own right.
“Why are you really here?” she demanded.
“I have come to take you back to England where you belong.”
She almost laughed. “Oh, Philip, surely you jest…or are you simply mocking me? I remember it was a favorite pastime of yours.”
“Sweetheart, don’t remind me of my cruelty. I was wrong. I admit that now. All I am asking is for a chance to make it up to you. I have come for you because I cannot bear for us to be separated from each other. You cannot imagine what it has been like. You have been a part of my life since we were children. You are my life, my future. How can I have a future if you are gone?”
She started to speak, but he cut her off.
“No! Don’t say it cannot be. Don’t tell me too much time has passed. For us, it can never be too late. Tell me what I can do to make you understand.”
He sounded so contrite, so sorry, she almost felt compassion for him, but not quite. She had never felt he cared overmuch for her, so why now? She would have to handle this delicately, which meant she would have to be as cunning as he.
It was with a soft voice and a tone of kindness and regret that she said, “I am sorry to hear these things, Philip. If you had only spoken in such a manner before, it would have made a difference, but the die is cast. I have crossed the border from England and into a new life. My home is here now, in Scotland. We cannot go back. What is done cannot be undone.”
“It is never too late for lovers.”
“We were not lovers, Philip. We never even came close.”
“But we can be lovers.” He stepped closer and lifted his hand to stroke the side of her face. “So you see, sweet Meleri, it is really quite simple. You will come with me to England, and you will be my queen.”
He was being very persistent. Had he really changed? No, he had not. Did it really matter, even if he had? No, she told herself. It did not matter. She belonged to Robert now, heart, soul and body. The question was, how would she explain that to Philip? Her mind raced as she looked for a way out of this. She had to rid herself of this man, without involving Robert. Vivid in her mind was the ease in which he could turn on her and others, the venom he was capable of using and the cruelty he was so comfortable with.
Don’t be trusting and do not provoke him. Diplomacy and tact were the tools she should use, and while she was at it, a little subterfuge would not hurt. Without much time to think, she devised a plan, a ploy to make him believe her; a way for him to think she was as sincere as he. She needed to get him away from here, at least for the time being, so she could think clearly and decide how best to handle things. In the end, she decided her only choice was to go along with him—to convince him that she was ready to go away with him.
She softened her expression and took on a defeated pose. “A queen?” She released a tired sigh. “Oh, Philip, you make it all sound so enticing. I came here to marry an earl, but he is a very poor earl. I daresay I would never come close to being treated like a queen here.” She looked down at her red hands. “Already my hands grow rough from work.”
He took her hands in his. “Your hands used to be so lovely.” He kissed each palm. “They can be that way again. You were never meant for this kind of life…not even wed, and already you work like a hand in the fields. You have been beyond foolish and your folly has caused me great distress, as well as considerable inconvenience. I hope you realize that.”
“Oh Philip, you are right. I have been so very foolish. But I don’t know what I can do about it now,” she said, looking around in a hopeless manner.
“You can come with me, as I said.”
Somewhere in the house, a door slammed. It gave her the perfect excuse.
She stepped closer to him and lowered her voice. “If we are to succeed at this, it must be well planned. Leaving now will not work to our advantage. The family and servants would see us and alert the earl. He is poor, but he is a Scot and a very proud one. He would never let me go. I need time to think about this, time to find a way to leave here without being missed for a while.”
“Time is something I do not have. I need to return home. I left urgent business to come here.”
She looked around her. “I understand, but we must be cautious. I should not be speaking with you now. Someone could come out here any minute. If I came with you now, we would not reach the stables before we were stopped. I will meet you later. Wait for me down where you turn off from the main road. When it is dark and everyone has gone to bed, I will come to you. We can be well away from this place before they discover I am gone.”
“And your earl? Where will he be while you are slipping from his grasp?”
“The men have been harvesting turnips. Robert goes to the fields early. By night he is exhausted and retires to bed shortly after dinner.”
Philip did not answer right away, but stood there, obviously thinking over her words as he searched her face. She knew he was looking for some sign of deception on her part. Her heart was pounding so hard, she feared he would hear it and know his suspicions were true.
She was on the verge of turning and bolting for the house, when from somewhere inside she heard Ciorstag’s voice. “Has anyone seen Meleri?”
She almost fainted when he said, “All right, but if you should fail to come…”
The world increased in intensity. Her eyes were unable to absorb the sunlight without hurting and causing brilliant pinpricks of light to float along her line of vision. Each of her senses magnified, until she could hear the crackle of a leaf growing and the sound a spider makes spinning his web. The smell of grass crushed beneath her feet rose, sharp and pungent, as it passed through air passages and caused her lungs to hurt.
“I will come when the last light is out.”
At sunset, Meleri was alone in the garden. She needed to escape the house, for fear that those inside would sense something was wrong. She had gotten herself into a fine mess—one she did not know how to extract herself from. All she’d done was buy herself a little time, but for what? Why had she promised Waverly she would meet him tonight? She could not go back with Philip, and yet, she could not remain here. To do so would put Robert in danger, for she knew he would find out and try to settle things in his own way. The thought that Philip might kill him was too great a chance to take. She had to find another way, and soon.
She sighed deeply and looked about her, as if by doing so, she would see the answers to the questions crowding her mind. In the west, a slow-dying sun spun a golden net of pastel shades and cast it over the earth below, frosting the leaves with a pale wash of flaxen color. The late evening air was cool, the song coming from the stream sweet flowing, and all about her the steady droning of bees settled into her consciousness with a contented hum. Dew was already beginning to settle on the moor grasses, making it smell like night.
A tiny orange kitten, furry and round as a puffball, bounced out of the bushes, saw her and stopped. With a violent arching of its back, it hissed and Meleri smiled sadly. She spoke in a soft voice. “Such a fierce little kitty. You didn’t expect to find anyone here, did you?” She stretched out her hand and ran it over the arched back, until the bristled fur settled back into place. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. What are you doing out here? Chasing garden crickets?” The kitten paraded back and forth a time or two beneath her hand, before curiously inspecting the basket of gathered flowers that sat nearby. The animal took a couple of swipes at the basket with shiny black claws. Apparently satisfied, it settled in an orange lump beside it.
A long shadow came out of nowhere and covered her completely, blocking the setting sun. She gasped, knowing Philip had changed his mind, but when she looked up, it was Robert standing beside her.
Relief washed over her. “You startled me. I didn’t hear you come up. For a moment, I thought it might be the ghost.”
“Or another kitten.”
She turned her head to look at the kitten, digging its claws into the soft earth next to the basket. “Yes, that’s a possibility, too. If there is one, there are bound to be others about.”
She felt his hand at her elbow as he drew her to her feet. He had not said why he had come, and she searched his face for some hint, but she saw nothing beyond the clear blue eyes that were watching her with inquiry. She felt a bit shaky from staring into those mesmerizing eyes. Her breathing was quick and shallow, his nearness unsettling.
He pulled a leaf or two out of her hair and ran the back of his hand across her cheek. She turned her head away.
“I think you’ve been avoiding me,” he said.
She leaned forward and dropped the herbs she was clutching into the basket before dusting her hands. “I’ve been busy.”
“Aye, I have noticed. I cannot remember seeing Beloyn look so good. It’s amazing what a little ingenuity, a lot of work and no money will accomplish.”
“Yes, it’s truly amazing,” she said, knowing he would soon ask what troubled her, and knowing full well she could not tell him how she was terrified of Philip doing him harm. She could only pray that she could solve this problem by herself, but seeing Robert in the flesh made her suddenly realize just how impossible that sounded. Her only choice was to go with Philip. She could not live like this. The uncertainty was too much. She had no choice but to push Robert away. For her to weaken could cost him his life.
His expression became suddenly concerned. “Something is troubling you. Can you tell me what it is?”
“No, as a matter of fact, I cannot.”
“Why?”
“Because they are my troubles and my concerns. I prefer not to share them. I want to work them out in my own way.”
He took her hands in his. “Your fingers are cold.”
But not as cold as your heart will be when I return to England and marry Philip.
“Perhaps you should come inside before you catch a chill.”
“I am not cold. My fingers are wet from the dew on the leaves.”
He lifted her hands to his mouth, caressing them with the warmth from his breath, the pads of his thumbs making lazy circles against her wrists. She watched her hands, breathless, her lips slightly parted. Push him away, she told herself, but her muscles would not obey.
The soft jolt of his words jerked her back to consciousness. She looked down and saw a small cut on her thumb, crusted with dirt and dried blood. “It doesn’t hurt.”
He lifted it to his lips, and she closed her eyes against the contact, against the deep, penetrating warmth so hungrily absorbed by her skin. She watched in dazed curiosity, beset by the heat of his nearness, the fresh-air scent in his hair. Still holding both of her hands in one of his, he used the free hand to lift her chin. Her breath quickened in response to the sleepy, hypnotic reaction her body had to the slow descent of his mouth.
He kissed one cheek, then brushed the curve of the other. She was unprepared for the rush of feeling that spread over her, with the erotic sensations traveling from his lips to hers as his mouth sought, and found, hers with a gently questing pressure that fired her blood. Urgency hummed and vibrated through tightly coiled muscles, yet her joints had all turned to mush. If he had not been holding her, she would have fallen.
A sudden rattling of leathery shrub leaves, the rustling and scuffling sounds of some late-evening animal, pierced the dreamy lushness that enveloped her in the warm cocoon of desire. She looked toward the shrubs with perplexed confusion, just in time to see Dram and Corrie thrust their heads through the glossy leaves and come bounding out in a gentle lope.
They broke apart and Robert said, “Perfect timing, almost like they rehearsed it.”
“They are my guardian angels.”
“Do you need guarding?”
“Only from you.”
Their gazes held. She saw so many questions in his eyes, which were hazy from confusion.
“I wonder if I will ever understand you.” He looked down and spoke to Corrie and Dram, who sat between them, regarding their human benefactors in a curious manner, heads tilted to one side. “Why did you choose this particular moment to interrupt us?”
“You cannot question fate. Some things are meant to be.” She allowed the dismissing look in her eyes to tell him their talk was over. Quickly, she snatched her basket from its place on the ground and walked off, leaving a trail of footprints across dew-sprinkled grass.
Inside the castle, it was almost dark, with only the palest haze of smoky gray light coming through the windows. No light penetrated the dark sable interior as Meleri wandered through the castle like a lost soul looking for a lamp. Even when she found a candle, she was afraid to light it. She was worried that Philip might change his mind and come back to confront her. Was he out there now, watching?
She had been lonely many times in her life, but never had she felt alone.
At dinner that night, Robert was preoccupied, weighing in his mind with painstaking thoroughness and care the same things he had been pondering all day; namely, Meleri and the ghost. He only caught snatches of conversation or the occasional mention of his name when someone directed a question at him.
“Hello, Robert,” Gram said. “Would you care to join us, or would you prefer to quit our company to meditate in private?”
“What?”
“There are times,” she said with calm composure, “that you are an inconsiderate and thoughtless bore, but I cannot remember you ever being nonexistent. Would it be too much to ask if you cared to grace us with your presence? You are here in body, but your mind seems to have wandered off by itself.”
“You are right, and I do apologize.”
“You think too much,” Gram replied.
“Right again.”
“Of course I am. I am always right. I thought you knew that.”
“I do, but there are times when I let it slip my mind.”
“You are forgiven, then. You can think too much after the meal is over. There, you see, here comes Fiona with dessert, and you are still staring at a cold first course. A terrible lapse of manners, if you ask me.” She took up her wineglass and took a sip. When she finished, she put the glass down and regarded her younger grandson, who sat across from her, grinning widely. “Hugh is feeling left out,” she said. “I must rectify that.”
“Uh-oh,” the twins said in unison.
Hugh gave his grandmother a smile that would have made a seraph envious and blew her a kiss. “Be nice to me, Gram. You know I have tender sensibilities.”
“Posh! The only thing tender about you is your head. Now, behave yourself, you vexatious boy, so I can pester Robert.”
Hugh grabbed his chest with feigned pain. “Reduced to a schoolboy by the only woman I’ll ever love.”
“Do be quiet, you shameless rapscallion.” She turned to Meleri. “That one I cannot coax a word from, and that one,” she said, indicating Hugh, “I cannot stop from talking.”
“Have you tried silencing him at gunpoint?” Robert asked.
“No, but that is an idea I might try on you, if you continue this vexing silence.”
“It won’t work,” Hugh said. “He eats bullets for breakfast.”
“That explains why he isn’t hungry,” Iain said.
Gram pinned Meleri with a questioning gaze. “And speaking of silence, you are being overly quiet, my dear. Are you feeling well?”
“Yes, I’m fine…a bit tired, that’s all.”
“Small wonder! Has anyone noticed all the work that has been done around here?”
Robert looked at her, wondering if that was the cause of the change he sensed in her. “She is fair to wearing herself out. She works like three and takes the most difficult tasks for herself.”
Once the cinnamon baked apples were served, with Fiona’s outright command to “eat them hot,” conversation died down to a trickle. While the others ate, Robert’s mind went traipsing off again, in search of a deserving thought and wandering off, quite naturally, in Meleri’s direction. He was worried about his lass.