“Cease!” Luc cried as soon as he saw what was happening in the great hall.
And to his astonishment, Gavin did precisely that. The man paused, fist raised, and looked from the powerless and battered knight on the floor before him to his son.
“You!” Then his lips twisted mockingly. “Who are you to challenge my authority?”
“I merely challenge your wits,” Luc retorted, well aware of the gasp that echoed in the hall. His father’s eyes flashed, but Luc strode closer. He had never been afraid of Gavin before and he would not begin now.
And he would not permit Gavin to ruthlessly beat a defenseless man. ’Twas unconscionable, ’twas wrong, and just the sight infuriated Luc beyond all.
“To what purpose do you even strike another blow?” he demanded angrily. “The man cannot defend himself and already he is beaten to a stupor.”
“He needs to learn a lesson,” Gavin snarled. “He needs to know who is the new lord of Tullymullagh.”
Luc inclined his head to indicate the unconscious knight and could not keep the sarcasm from his tone. “Aye, he looks to be attending your lesson well.”
Gavin’s lips thinned and he took a menacing step closer to Luc. “I should see you whipped in his stead.”
“To what purpose?” Luc not only refused to retreat, but he folded his arms across his chest. “I already know that you prefer to speak with your fists—there is no lesson to be learned there.”
Gavin inhaled sharply. “Insolence!” he roared. Anger flared in the older man’s eyes and it seemed the entire assembly held their breath when he raised a fist toward Luc.
But Luc did not so much as breathe, his gaze unswerving from his father’s own. Gavin swore and his hand fell to his side before he completed the blow.
“You always were unnatural,” he growled, then glared at the fallen Ruarke with dissatisfaction. Gavin waved at his men impatiently. “Take him away! Grant him the hospitality of the deepest and darkest dungeon within this keep that he might think upon his loyalty.”
The knight was dragged from the hall by a trio of men. His crime was no more than being allied with the loser rather than the victor, but the price he was to pay disgusted Luc. His father had learned naught of honor in their years apart.
Luc caught a glimpse of the greyed visage of Connor of Tullymullagh and knew he had felt every blow upon his knight as though it struck his own hide. He felt a wave of sympathy that Brianna’s father must endure the loss of all he had wrought, especially in his sunset years.
The old king paused and met Luc’s gaze for a long moment, leaving Luc with the distinct sense that he was being assessed. Then, Connor turned for the stairs, his shoulders more bowed than they had yet been.
A flicker of movement revealed Brianna as she tried to follow her sire. “Father? Are you well?” Her voice was strained and Luc knew he had not been the only one to note the burden Connor bore.
Connor summoned a weak smile for his daughter. “I but need a rest, child. Perhaps you might visit me later.” He beckoned to his steward. “Uther, if you will.” The pair shuffled their way up the stairs, looking markedly elderly, and Luc’s lips thinned that his own sire should be behind this disservice.
He knew well enough that ’twas greed alone that made Gavin set his sights upon Tullymullagh. None had slighted him here, the keep had no strategic import, ’twas far from Gavin’s other holdings. Gavin had merely decided ’twas fine enough for his Burke and cared naught for how many were killed or maimed in the acquisition.
Perhaps that was why Burke appeared to have mixed feelings about wedding Brianna. He had, after all, witnessed the assault. Luc’s gaze fell on the princess in question and everything within him quickened at the sight of her dismay.
And Luc suddenly wished that he could make all come right for this fetching woman. She was so vivacious, as bright as a harbor beacon, that it seemed unfair she should have to face such a challenge.
Brianna watched her sire ascend, clearly not in the least convinced that he had need of so little, but aware that she had been dismissed. ’Twas evident that she felt needed by both sire and champion. Indecision warred on her lovely features, until she made a motion to continue behind the party heading to the dungeon.
Gavin apparently noted her move, for he swivelled to jab a finger through the air after his men. “And see that he has no visitors for two days and nights!” he bellowed.
Brianna blanched and her indignation was clear when she turned upon Gavin. “But he is wounded! He needs tending!” Luc had to admire that even after what she had witnessed, she was not afraid to speak her mind to his abusive sire.
Yet that very audacity made him fear for Brianna’s safety. Luc took a step forward that Gavin not court any ideas about treating Tullymullagh’s princess as he had treated its champion.
To Luc’s relief, Gavin satisfied himself with a glare in Brianna’s direction. “He needs naught that solitude and discomfort cannot provide.”
Brianna looked after the knight worriedly. Luc feared suddenly that she would not heed his father’s demand any more than she heeded that of any other. His innards writhed at the prospect of what Gavin might do to her in retaliation for such defiance.
Indeed, she asked for little but the opportunity to show consideration for a man’s injuries.
Luc cleared his throat. “Surely ’twould hurt naught to ensure that his injuries will readily heal.” Gavin glared at him and Luc knew he would have to put matters in his father’s own terms. “ ’Twould serve none if an able knight expired when he need not do so.”
Consideration dawned in Gavin’s expression and he slid a calculating glance around the hall. Luc guessed his sire could well use an experienced blade in his ranks.
And no doubt even Gavin realized the popularity of the knight he had struck. Should Ruarke die, many here would turn completely against their new lord.
If they had not already done so. The assembly drew back against the walls, almost as though they collectively flinched before Gavin’s very regard.
“Perhaps,” Luc further suggested. “ ’Twould hurt little to let the princess herself see to the knight’s injuries. ’Tis the place of the lady of the keep, after all.”
Gavin pursed his lips and Brianna seemed to hold her breath. The older man looked to the princess and Luc knew Gavin was weighing that woman’s acceptability as Burke’s bride.
“Not until the morrow,” Gavin decided abruptly. “One night he shall have alone and untended to consider his path.”
“But—” Brianna began to protest.
“Nay!” Luc declared. His mouth went dry that Brianna would so recklessly endanger her own hide.
She looked fleetingly at him, a confused frown upon her brow at his single word. Despite his certainty that she would not heed him, Luc sought to compel her to silence with a single curt shake of his head.
And to his immense relief, Brianna bit her lip and said no more.
Gavin looked scornfully to Luc, his quick glance revealing that he had not missed the exchange. A nasty gleam in his eyes made Luc doubly fear for Brianna’s welfare.
He would have to ensure that she steered a wide path of Gavin, at least until her nuptials were performed. Gavin might restrain himself from doing injury to a prize destined for Burke, but Luc resolved in that moment to be doubly certain his princess was safe.
“Have you come only to urge compassion?” Gavin snarled.
“Nay.” Luc straightened. “The ostler would have your permission to build a temporary addition to the stables. It seems the ranks of horses at Tullymullagh far exceed the capabilities of the existing stables.” He arched a brow. “And those beneath your hand seem anxious to have your explicit approval before they act.”
Gavin waved off the question. “He may do whatsoever he will. No doubt you can grant him better advice than I on such paltry domestic matters.” His lip curled. “ ’Tis the mark of a man to concentrate upon warfare alone.”
Luc deliberately did not take his father’s bait.
Gavin rolled his eyes, then frowned at the high table, his interest turning to more mundane concerns. “Is there naught to eat within this hall?” he roared and all jumped in unison. “Faith, a man could starve in this place!” He snapped his fingers at the plump cook. “Stir yourself, Cook, or I shall be compelled to find trusty help to replace you.”
“Aye, my lord. At once, my lord!” Cook, Luc noted, ran for the kitchens with an agility that belied his weight. Gavin stormed toward the high table, berating all that crossed his path, and Luc heaved a sigh of relief that the storm was passed.
Then, he saw the lady Brianna bearing down on him, her eyes shining, and was not nearly so certain of that. She might have conceded agreement for the moment, but Luc suspected the battle was far from won.
Indeed, he found himself looking forward to whatever she might say.
Or do.
“Luc!” Brianna breathed. “That was wondrous, indeed!”
“ ’Twas naught,” Luc insisted gruffly, not the least bit certain why her praise made him feel self-conscious. He nodded, thinking the matter closed, and made a trio of steps toward the portal before Brianna darted to his side.
“Do not go! I would thank you properly for aiding Ruarke.”
Luc glanced over the hall, now erupting into characteristic chaos, and had the sudden urge to be alone with the lady. It had naught to do with her use of the word “properly” he was certain.
“Not here,” he counselled, and to his astonishment, Brianna nodded ready agreement.
She chattered amiably as they matched steps and headed into the bailey. Luc marvelled that she had so readily agreed to his recommended course.
What was awry? ’Twas most unlike the lady, Luc well knew.
“I cannot even think of how much longer Gavin would have struck Ruarke,” she confided. “ ’Twas horrible to watch, and all the more so because there was naught I could do. Do you think he is sorely injured?”
Her concern for Tullymullagh’s champion knight grated on Luc. Such a man was hardly deserving of such loyalty. What had he done to deserve it? Abandoned Tullymullagh in its hour of need? Luc stalked toward the orchard, his mood growing more foul with every word the princess uttered about marvelous Ruarke.
Until a sudden thought brought Luc up short. He halted in the midst of the bailey, deeply afraid that he knew precisely why the princess was so concerned about this knight. Luc pivoted to face a wide-eyed Brianna, equally certain of why she wanted him gone from Tullymullagh.
It all fit together beautifully and he knew well enough that this woman had her wits about her.
“Is this then what you are planning?” Luc demanded tersely. “Do you want me gone so that your champion can challenge Gavin’s claim, so that there are none whom Gavin might summon to aid him?”
Brianna gasped, the way her hand rose to her lips and her face paled telling Luc all he needed to know. “I do not understand what you mean,” she whispered, but Luc knew the words were a lie.
She knew precisely what he meant! And Luc had guessed aright! Anger rose hot within him that she would be so cavalier with her own welfare.
But then, men like Gavin Fitzgerald were beyond this lady’s experience.
Ruarke, though, should have known better. Another black mark was struck beside that knight’s name in Luc’s mind.
Luc stepped closer to Brianna, his words low and hot. “What manner of fool is this man to let you take such a risk?” he demanded. Brianna’s eyes widened. “Can he not see that you could well be injured? And what of the pledge he just granted my sire?” Luc flung out his hands. “Does his oath mean so little as that? How can he believe that Gavin will forget such a pledge?”
Brianna shook her head. “But Ruarke knows naught of this,” she began, then bit her lip as she realized her concession. Her guilty gaze rose to Luc’s as though she hoped he had not caught her slip.
But he had.
And Luc knew full well that he had rightly discerned the turn of this woman’s thoughts. He muttered an expletive beneath his breath, scowled at the proximity of the keep, then laid claim to Brianna’s elbow and marched her toward the orchard.
“What is this you do?” she demanded, even as she fought to free herself from Luc’s grip. “You cannot simply drag me about the bailey or expect me to follow your whim!”
Luc fired a dark glance her way. “This is for naught but your own good, my lady, and you will attend what I have to say.”
Brianna blinked, then ceased to struggle. She fairly ran beside Luc, taking two steps to each angry one of his, evidently thinking better of arguing the point.
Luc halted in the midst of the orchard where none might overhear and captured the lady’s shoulders within his hands. She was so tiny, so fragile, it sickened Luc to imagine what his father might do to her for even thinking of treachery.
How that man would savor the marring of such a perfect fairy queen.
“My lady,” Luc said with a grim glance into her eyes. “Tell me that you have not been planning to challenge Gavin’s claim to Tullymullagh.”
Brianna opened her mouth, then closed it again. She frowned, she looked away, then she peeked through her lashes at Luc.
“Do not even imagine you can lie to me,” he growled.
She flushed and lifted her chin, that spark of defiance bright in her eye. “And what if I did?”
Luc wanted suddenly to shake Brianna until her teeth rattled. This was serious beyond all! “My lady! Use the wits God granted you. My sire never forgets a slight—nor does he let one go unrewarded. He will ensure that you rue any such course, for none defy him with success.”
Brianna’s lips set stubbornly and Luc knew this battle would not be readily won. Indeed, she folded her arms across her chest, then glared up at him. “That is not true! You defied him just moments past!”
“I have naught to lose.”
The lady tipped her chin. “What of Llanvelyn?”
Luc shook his head, forced to make the concession. “ ’Tis true, he could deny me the seal, as he has done all these years. He could turn all of my labor to make the estate prosperous to naught, readily enough.” Luc let his gaze bore into the lady’s emerald one. “But, even then, ’tis a comparatively small claim Gavin has upon me.”
Brianna shrugged. “He has no claim upon me.”
“Nay!” Her very insouciance was infuriating and Luc gripped her shoulders more tightly. “My lady, you must understand that my father is not a man of compassion! You have just seen the kind of success your champion can expect to meet when facing him.”
Brianna rolled her eyes. “I told you Ruarke knows naught of this.”
Luc stared at her, aghast as he realized the import of what she said. “You would defy my sire alone?” He could not keep the edge of incredulity from his tone. “What manner of idiocy is that? I thought you a woman of sense!”
She drew herself up proudly. “ ’Tis not idiocy to fight for one’s home! You fight for Llanvelyn.”
“Yet if it were denied to me, I would not be scarred for all my days,” Luc retorted. Brianna’s eyes widened and he nodded grimly. “Aye, Gavin would see your beauty marred for his own twisted vengeance alone.”
Brianna fought to hide how his words startled her and failed. Her words fell in haste. “My looks are of little import.”
’Twas clear the lady would not be readily swayed. Luc forced himself to voice his worst fears. “And what of your maidenhead? What of your innocence, if he grants you to his men for a night?” Luc glared down at her, willing her to understand the magnitude of what Gavin might do. “My lady, what of your very life?”
Brianna paled and sagged slightly beneath his hands. “He would not,” she whispered, though Luc saw new uncertainty in the depths of her eyes.
Luc nodded sadly, infinitely relieved that Brianna finally recognized her peril. “That and more, if the whim took him,” he admitted, then gave her shoulders a squeeze. “You must abandon this course.”
Brianna, though, bit her lip and looked across the river, apparently indecisive.
Luc gritted his teeth, knowing he had never met another so cursedly stubborn. “My lady, consider who would aid you if your plan went awry.” She flicked a very green glance Luc’s way. “Your champion could do naught to aid you, especially while imprisoned. Your sire is aged, as is his steward, all knights are pledged to Gavin’s hand.”
Luc lowered his voice and leaned closer. “No one dared step forward to aid Ruarke. You must consider who would or could aid you.”
The lady turned an appealing glance upon him. “Would you not do so?” she asked softly. Her hand lifted to his shoulder and Luc was seized by an urge to pledge himself to her from this day forward. “You aided Ruarke.”
Luc swallowed the lump in his throat with difficulty. Brianna would be Burke’s bride—’twas not his place to pledge himself to her protection.
And he had left the life of a knight behind.
Yet even knowing that, Luc could not bring himself to deny her. “I will not always be here,” he reminded her gently instead.
Tears welled in the princess’ emerald gaze. Her hand rose to grip Luc’s fingers, as though she would draw upon his strength. “But Luc, it wounds my father so to witness this change.” Her voice was soft, her heartbreak evident in every word. “Did you not see his face when Ruarke fell?”
Luc’s heart tightened. He was awed that this woman saw no further than her father’s dismay, that she would put even herself in jeopardy in an attempt to ensure her father’s happiness.
’Twas an impulse so noble and selfless, so uncommon, that Luc could only gaze at her in admiration. She stared up at him, her tears accenting the myriad shades of green in her wondrous eyes.
“Aye, Brianna, I did,” Luc managed to agree. He gave Brianna a minute shake, still feeling the need to persuade her of the danger before her. “But you must consider—would it be easier for Connor to see you bear the brunt of Gavin’s temper?”
“Nay!” Brianna’s tears spilled suddenly, cascading over her cheeks like sparkling jewels. “I do not know what to do,” she whispered unevenly and bowed her head.
Luc could not resist her. Indeed, to see her defeated manner tore his heart in two. Luc bent over Brianna as though he would shelter her from an ill wind, slipped an arm over her shoulder, and wiped her tears away with a gentle thumb. Brianna leaned her brow upon his shoulder and Luc felt her tears wet his tunic as she silently wept.
He felt humbled that she leaned upon him, even as much as this, for he had the sense that this woman seldom relied upon others for strength. Indeed, she had a wealth of it to call her own.
“Wed Burke. ’Twould be the best course for you,” he counselled quietly, ignoring the scream of protest that erupted within him.
Brianna made no acknowledgement of his words and Luc sought some way to reassure her. Had she not protested wedding a stranger? And what could she know of Burke, after all.
“He is a good man, a knight noble and true,” he murmured. “He will see you safe.”
But to Luc’s surprise, the lady responded most violently to his low words. He caught but a glimpse of the angry flash of her eyes before she shook off his grip and stepped back. “I will not wed Burke!” she snapped, her eyes flashing as she propped her hands upon her hips.
Luc blinked at this abrupt change of manner. The marks of Brianna’s tears still shone on her cheeks but her determination was back with a vengeance. What had he said to so rile her? “But whyever not?”
“Because I do not love him!” Brianna impatiently wiped aside the vestiges of her tears. “Indeed, I barely know him!”
Ah, ’twas the issue of wedding a stranger. “He is a good man—”
“I do not care!” Brianna glared at Luc stubbornly.
Luc folded his arms across his chest and regarded her. “You do not care whether he is a good man?”
“I care only that I do not love him!” Luc’s lack of understanding must have shown, for Brianna shook her head and heaved a sigh. “Luc, I pledged long ago to wed only my own true love. I shall do that, regardless of what you, or my father, or your father or even the King of England himself have to say about the matter!”
Luc stared at Brianna, doubting what he had heard, then shoved a hand impatiently through his hair. “What whimsy is this? Truly, you do listen overmuch to the bard’s tales.”
“I do not!”
Luc spread out his hands. “Then where, my lady, did you seize upon such whimsy as this?”
“ ’Tis not whimsy!” Brianna poked her finger in Luc’s chest. He stood still, marvelling at her spirit as he watched her. “My parents had a rare love, one that they recognized before they wed.”
Luc could not help his skepticism. “Indeed?”
“Indeed!” Brianna pursed her lips and looked away, then shook her head before meeting Luc’s gaze once more. Her voice, when she spoke was surprisingly soft, her tone cajoling. “I know it must be hard for you to believe as much, for your childhood cannot have been easy,” she said urgently. “But mine was different.”
She hesitated, as though uncertain whether she should confide more. Her gaze was luminous, her expression expectant.
Luc knew she waited for reassurance from him.
“You cannot know what the future holds,” he said quietly. “You might well come to love Burke.”
“And I might not!” Brianna retorted. “I must know before any nuptials! Can you not see the good sense of that?”
“ ’Tis not the way of things and you know it well. Marriages are made for alliance, not for love.” Luc shook his head, but Brianna caught at his sleeve.
Her cheeks pinkened slightly as she held Luc’s regard and he felt his heart begin to pound anew. “Could I share with you a tale, that you might understand? Please?”
And truly, when this lady regarded him so hopefully, Luc knew he could deny her naught. To listen to a mere tale was precious little indeed.
And what else had he to do this day? Naught of more import than ensuring Brianna abandoned her quest to oust Gavin—naught more critical than ensuring this charming beauty was safe.
Until Burke’s return.
The conclusion was souring. Luc forced a smile for Brianna, knowing there was no reason for him to be so irked at the very prospect of his brother’s return. “Of course.”
Yet when the lady smiled up at Luc, a smile destined for him alone, any thought of Burke completely fled his mind.
And that suited Luc perfectly. When Luc offered his hand and the lady shyly put her fingers into his grip, Burke de Montvieux was as far from his elder brother’s thoughts as ever he could be.
They sat together on the low wall that marked the river side of the orchard and Brianna swung her feet as she sought the words to begin. In truth, she had been noting the lean strength of Luc’s legs, his boots firmly planted on the ground.
Aye, she liked that he was concerned for her and had the distinct sense that while Luc was at Tullymullagh, naught ill could happen to her.
That must be why his reminder that he must leave had been so disappointing.
“You must have cared deeply for your dame,” Luc commented idly when the silence had stretched long.
“Aye.” Brianna glanced up, Luc’s gaze colliding with hers in the wake of his words, and she noted the brightness of the blue. She would wager her answer interested him more than he might care to admit. Aye, it might well be that the shade of his eyes grew more vivid when his passion was aroused.
Did his eyes not glow as blue as a summer sky when he kissed her?
Brianna’s lips tingled in recollection of those kisses, but she forced herself to answer his question. “Aye, I did.” Brianna frowned. “It has been quiet here since she passed, though she was the most tranquil soul that ever I have known. As I told you, ’tis her sarcophagus there.”
Luc’s glance followed her pointed finger and he nodded. “Because she loved the garden.”
“Aye. That she did.” Brianna blinked back an unexpected tear. Luc, to her relief, seemed to sense her dismay and feigned interest in the distant hills. Brianna appreciated having the moment to collect herself and marvelled again that Luc was content to let her take her own time.
“And you say that your sire and she shared a rare passion.”
“Aye.” Brianna smiled at the recollection of the tale she had oft been told. “They met afore my sire took the cross.” She slanted a glance to her companion, suddenly shy. “ ’Tis a tale I love for ’tis romantic beyond all, but I fear you may find it tedious.”
That errant twinkle danced briefly in Luc’s eye and he arched a brow mischievously. “For I am clearly a man with no regard for romance?” he teased and Brianna cursed how quickly she flushed.
“I know little of what you hold in regard,” she argued, well aware of Luc’s sparkling regard, even though she stared at her toes.
’Twas not exactly true, she realized suddenly, for she knew already that Luc held a pledge in high esteem. And he had disliked seeing Ruarke attacked when the knight could not defend himself. Luc showed concern for her own welfare, with a determination that warmed Brianna’s heart.
Indeed, Brianna could not help but think of a knight’s pledge to uphold his sworn vow and to ensure the protection of those unable to see to their own welfare.
Why had Luc ceased to be a knight? It seemed the labor was perfectly suited to the turn of his mind. Brianna knew well enough the strength of Luc’s grip and guessed he was a formidable opponent.
She could ask him, but that would be a question. Her flush deepened with the certainty that Luc would demand his toll.
They had made an agreement, after all. ’Twas not, Brianna admitted to herself, so onerous an arrangement.
Brianna slanted a glance Luc’s way to find his gaze bright upon her and once again, had the odd sense that he read her very thoughts. The hint of a smile curved those firm lips, as though he did not find her conclusions troubling in the least.
“Tell me your tale,” he urged.
Brianna deliberately cleared her throat. “Well, when Edessa was lost and the call came from Rome to regain that city, ’twas nigh upon the eve of my sire’s knighting. He insists now that he took the cross for ’tis the bane of youths and fools to believe they can set the world to rights single-handedly.”
Luc snorted softly at that, though Brianna could not imagine why. She paused, but he said naught, so she continued.
“At any rate, he was knighted by the high king himself and ’twas there my dame first caught sight of him. There were a full dozen men to be knighted that Easter Day, each from prominent families, and, as you can imagine, virtually everyone upon the isle had come to the high court to celebrate.”
Brianna smiled in recollection of all the times she had begged her mother to share this beloved tale. She folded up her legs and wrapped her arms around them, setting her chin upon her knees. “My dame said she knew Connor of Tullymullagh was the man for her the very moment her gaze landed upon him, for there was a twinkle in his eye that she found most fetching.”
“No more than that?” Luc asked with soft skepticism.
Brianna clicked her tongue with disapproval and granted him an arch glance. “You were to listen alone!”
Luc grinned and inclined his head slightly. “My mistake, my lady,” he said with mock formality. “Please, do continue.”
“They were destined to love,” Brianna informed her companion haughtily. When Luc said naught to that, she tossed her hair and continued. “After they had danced several times, my mother’s suspicions were confirmed, but my sire confessed that he had already pledged to take the cross. My dame, though disappointed, held her tongue for she had no right asking anything of him while he undertook a quest of such import.
“And so, my sire went upon his way, travelling south to follow the Holy Roman Emperor and the Frankish king to the Holy Land.” Brianna frowned. “But the war went awry. King and emperor fled the field at Damascus when ’twas clear the battle would be soundly lost. My sire was among those knights abandoned by their leaders and left to fend for themselves.
“He awakened to find himself stripped to the flesh and among the dead left to rot beneath the sun. My sire wandered as well as he could, hoping in some way he might yet find some sanctuary.”
Brianna glanced up to find Luc staring at his boots, his expression grim. Had she inadvertently reminded him of something?
Or someone?
Brianna could not tell and so she continued on. “My sire had the rare good fortune to be found by a merchant who cared naught for war. He took my sire to his home and had his wife tend my sire’s wounds.
“And as my sire healed, he thought oft of a fair maiden he had met dancing at the high king’s court. He recalled how she laughed and how her eyes shone when he teased her and he wondered how he could not have seen the truth.
“But my sire resolved that he could not return to Tullymullagh with naught to his name, for ’twould shame his family overmuch. He persuaded the merchant to let him labor in his employ, that he might earn enough to at least replace his steed and blade.
“The merchant was readily convinced, for he had no son of his own and his business was a thriving one. And my sire, once he regained his health, was young and strong. In those days, my sire’s hair was dark and he sat in the sun that his skin might darken and attract less notice. The merchant kept him from view as much as possible, their home being on the perimeter of the town and one already known for many comings and goings of foreign traders.
“ ’Twas gemstones this man bought and sold, rubies and emeralds from the east, amber from the north, amethysts from Europe and pearls from the sea. My father oft told me tales of the wonders of this man’s treasury, for they would spend evenings marvelling at the beauty of these treasures God had wrought. He always speaks of those two with great fondness in his words.
“When my sire’s wages were due, he took his payment in gems. For two years he labored and the merchant was well pleased, but then the man suddenly fell ill. My sire was as troubled as the merchant’s wife, for over the years, they had grown very close.
“In the darkest hour of his illness, the merchant seized my sire’s hand and bade him go home, bade him return to his homeland and find a merry wife—he bade him bring children to light. ’Twas the merchant’s single regret that he and his wife had never conceived a child. The merchant told my sire that he thought of him as a son and that he wanted to be remembered by him as he was alive, not dead. So, he granted my sire a legacy of gemstones and sent him from his door, even as he lay dying.
“My sire, with the merchant’s wife’s aid, stitched the stones into his humble clothes. She packed him food and kissed his cheeks and sobbed when he left their door for all time. And my sire wept as he walked home in that simple garb, to all appearances a pilgrim returning from Jerusalem.”
Brianna felt her voice fade. “He oft said the voyage was a long and lonely one, for he knew his old friend had passed away behind him and the man’s widow was left alone.”
Brianna took a deep breath and flicked a glance to Luc. He was watching her avidly, his features tense with his attentiveness. “Once home, my sire sold the gems, precisely as the merchant had bid him do, a few at a time, first in London, then at the Champagne Fair, then in Paris. Never too many at once, never too conspicuously, never two remarkable stones together. And as the gems were sold, Tullymullagh’s stone walls began to rise from the soil.”
Luc cleared his throat and Brianna paused in her tale to meet his steady gaze. “I owe you an apology,” he said softly. “Your sire did not build this keep upon the sacrifices of others. I am sorry that I accused him of such misdeeds without asking after the truth.”
Brianna smiled, liking well that Luc had the fortitude to admit when he was wrong. “No doubt you have known many others guilty of those crimes.”
Luc looked away and frowned, deliberately changing the course of the conversation. “And what then of your dame?”
Brianna’s smile broadened, her enthusiasm restored. “Ah, that is the best part of the tale! You see, she had heard no good from the East and she feared greatly for my sire’s survival. She prayed for him, but evidently to no avail, for the years passed and he did not return. Her own sire eventually insisted that she must wed, for she grew no younger, but her heart weighed heavy at the prospect. She dallied over her choices, wanting none other than the man she knew she could not have.
“And then, on the day her sire insisted she must choose, Eva came down to the hall, still undecided, only to find a pilgrim awaiting her there. A pilgrim, with a merry twinkle in the shadows of his eyes.” Brianna sighed with delight. “A pilgrim who dropped to one knee and asked for the honor of her hand in marriage.”
“Ah, romance,” Luc murmured, but the gleam in his own eye revealed that he did not mock her.
Brianna poked his shoulder playfully. “ ’Tis a marvelous tale! It had been five years since they had danced at the high king’s court and my dame could not believe Connor stood before her once again. Her sire, of course, was only too glad to accept the suit of the sole heir to Tullymullagh.”
Luc’s lips twisted into a smile. “ ’Tis no wonder you put such credence in bard’s tales,” he commented. “You seem to have been spawned of one.”
Brianna kicked her feet. “I think ’tis wondrous!”
Luc nodded and scanned the orchard. “Aye, ’tis. Would that every child had such a tale to call their own, hmm?”
Brianna caught the sadness in Luc’s tone and felt a sudden sympathy for his own upbringing. ’Twas true enough that he had no such happy tale of his parents’ union and she realized as she eyed Luc’s profile how very much her parents’ love had shaped her own life.
She wanted suddenly to know more of what had shaped Luc’s life. Brianna laid a hand on his arm, following impulse before she could consider the wisdom of it. “Why did you cease to be a knight?” she asked breathlessly.
Luc impaled her with a very blue glance, then leisurely lifted one brow. “Is that a question, my lady?” he asked, his voice thrumming low.
Brianna’s gaze fell to his lips, her heart hammered in anticipation, and it seemed she could not draw a full breath. She was warm from head to toe, she tingled in anticipation of the shivers she knew Luc would awaken, she yearned for the sense of security she felt within the circle of his arms.
But Brianna could not summon a word. She nodded, transfixed as Luc leaned toward her, his eyes blazing like sapphires. She closed her eyes as his lips closed demandingly over her own.
Her fingers landed on Luc’s chest and Brianna sighed with satisfaction as she felt the hurried pace of his own heart. ’Twas encouraging to know that she was not alone in being affected by these kisses.
Then Brianna thought of naught but Luc and his embrace.
’Twas thrice her name was called before Brianna even heard the summons. Luc lifted his head and frowned at the portal to the hall, then drew away from her. “You are sought,” he said softly, his brilliant gaze dropping to Brianna’s lips.
“I would have my answer,” she insisted and Luc smiled.
He leaned forward and tapped the tip of her nose. “On the morrow, my lady. The tale is not short, but you shall have it all.” His gaze bored into hers as though he would will her to believe him. “I promise it to you.”
Brianna flushed and smiled, knowing that Luc would keep his word. “I know,” she whispered and their gazes clung for a breathless moment.
“Lady Brianna!” Brianna jumped guiltily at Uther’s impatient call. “The lord Connor asks for you!”
“Go,” Luc urged.
Brianna bounced to her feet and ran across the orchard. She looked back from the portal of the hall, her heart skipping a beat when she found Luc watching her departure.
“On the morrow,” she whispered to herself, then fled to her sire’s side. On the morrow, she would know considerably more about Luc Fitzgavin, Brianna was certain.
And that prospect put a decided dance in her step.