The morning light was falling into the solar, cast into bands of light and shadow by the shutters, when Luc awakened again. He watched the marvel slumbering in his arms and felt himself smile. Indeed, the lady embraced every facet of life with the same unbridled passion.
And Luc liked that trait well indeed. His gaze traced the gracious sweep of Brianna’s jaw, the ripe curve of her lip, the golden splay of her lashes upon her ivory cheek.
A single unwelcome thought dismissed Luc’s sense of well-being. He leaned back and frowned at the canopy, irritated anew by the uncertainty of who had been Father Padraig’s accomplice. Whose voice had he heard in the stables?
Luc’s determination to protect Brianna redoubled in the wake of the night they had shared and he feared anew that this unknown accomplice might see fit to harm her. But he had made no progress in solving the puzzle any further these past days and was loathe to linger at Tullymullagh where danger could lurk at any turn.
There was but one course to follow. They must leave Tullymullagh, Luc and Brianna alone, in order to ensure her safety. They might well leave trouble behind or trouble might abandon the keep in their absence.
But in each other’s company alone, Luc could be certain of the lady’s security without trying to watch hundreds of souls he did not truly know.
But Brianna must know naught of Luc’s fears. He did not want to frighten her with a threat that might not materialize.
Ah! Luc smiled as the perfect solution slid into his thoughts. He would take Brianna to Llanvelyn with all haste. There were matters to be resolved there, at any rate, and Luc knew full well that there would be no danger to the lady at the remote estate. And there he knew every man, woman, and child.
’Twas perfect.
Brianna awakened, nestled against Luc, the length of his legs entangled with her own. He lay on his back, his arm held her against his side. Brianna stretched and opened her eyes to find Luc watching her. He smiled when he saw she had awakened, but Brianna had already noted his fleeting frown.
“Is something amiss?”
Luc pursed his lips. “Not truly. I was but thinking.”
“Of what?”
His blue gaze slid to meet hers. “Of Llanvelyn.”
Brianna sat up abruptly, her hair spilling over her shoulders. A lump of dread rose in her throat, for she knew that Luc himself had confessed he had only come to Tullymullagh to win that estate in full. “What of Llanvelyn?”
Luc shrugged. “There is no steward there. I did not appoint one after Pyrs died, but merely filled the task myself.” He eyed her carefully, as though choosing his words, his hand caressing the small of her back. “What would you think if we went there?”
Brianna swallowed and fought against her impulsive response. “To live?”
Luc shook his head so quickly that she was relieved. “Nay!” He flicked a playful fingertip across the tip of her nose and smiled with affection. “You look dismayed at the very prospect.”
Brianna flushed slightly. “I thought perhaps you did not want to administer Tullymullagh.” She traced the outline of his hand lying against the linens between them. “I thought it might not suit your conviction to leave the noble life behind.”
“Ah, well, ’twas eleven long years ago I made that choice.”
“Then, you are pleased to hold Tullymullagh?”
Luc nodded solemnly. “Aye, ’tis a fine holding.”
Brianna smiled. “You hesitated when your father summoned you. I thought perhaps you would decline.”
Luc rolled his eyes. “I but considered the wisdom of pledging fealty to him.”
“Did you not before?”
“Nay. Though effectively, I was his vassal, for I administered Llanvelyn in his stead. In truth, the responsibility is not much different, though Tullymullagh is certainly larger and more complex.” He lifted a hand to her cheek and smiled. “I can well understand that you would want your father’s holding free of Gavin’s immediate grip.”
“He must think you will obey his bidding.”
Luc grimaced, then grinned ruefully. “Gavin must know better than that, after all these years.”
Brianna had to have all clear between them. She leaned closer and tapped a finger on the mattress. “But you told me that you made a pledge when Tyrell died.”
“A pledge that accepting this seal does not challenge,” Luc argued with resolve. “A man with his wits about him can learn much in eleven years and should have the grace to admit when he has erred. I cannot flee what I am, I cannot hide from my own ambitions. I admired Tullymullagh from first sight and since coming here, I have learned that there is another role of leadership beyond that of both my father and Tyrell’s father.”
Brianna dared to meet Luc’s eyes, only to find sincerity gleaming there.
“Your own father,” he said firmly, “was a shining example of how a nobleman might lead his life with honor and treat his villeins justly. I would follow his example alone. ’Tis a grand legacy he has left Tullymullagh and one I would see continue.”
Brianna smiled in her reassurance. “Then why go to Llanvelyn at all?”
Luc shrugged, his gaze flicking away from her own. “I simply must see matters in order if we are to make Tullymullagh our residence,” he said stiffly and Brianna sensed that this was not all of the tale. “Llanvelyn has need of a steward, at least.”
“Will Gavin not see to such concerns?”
Luc snorted. “Not he!” He caught her hand and kissed her fingertips. “Brianna, I am not one to leave a task half finished.” Luc’s voice dropped low, his eyes were solemn. “I but ask you to indulge me in this one detail, my lady fair.”
Brianna’s breath caught. How could she refuse him when he had already done so much to assure her happiness?
But still she would tease him, much as he teased her. “Perhaps!” she said archly. “But what reward shall be mine for such indulgence?”
She liked how her words put that wicked twinkle in his eyes. “Fear not, Brianna, I shall make the concession worth your while,” Luc growled, then tickled her until she squealed. Brianna squirmed and tried to tickle him in turn, but without success. She laughed, she struggled, and they rolled back and forth across the great bed.
Until finally, Luc had her cornered against one of the heavy posts. Brianna tossed her hair and folded her arms across her chest, keeping a wary eye on his mischievous fingers. “How long shall we be gone?” she asked with a defiant tilt of her chin.
Luc shrugged. “With all likelihood, for the winter’s duration. The foul weather draws near, after all.” He regarded her with a slow smile that heated her very blood. “But how, my lady, will we ensure we keep warm?” Luc arched a dark brow and Brianna thought of a dozen ways before more immediate concerns stilled her smile.
Brianna gripped Luc’s arm. “But what of Fenella?” Luc’s eyes narrowed in consideration as she voiced her worries. “If Dermot spurns Fenella and her father casts her out, she might be round with child by the spring.” She raised her gaze to Luc’s. “What if her father comes while we are gone? Luc, he might beat her!”
Luc’s lips set grimly. “No woman shall be beaten within this hall.” He grasped Brianna’s shoulders and looked into her eyes with determination. “Fenella is entrusted to the care of Tullymullagh, leaving her as our responsibility. If Dermot spurns her and her father casts her out, we shall ensure her welfare. I promise you as much.”
“Then we will not go?”
Luc frowned, then rolled quickly from the bed. He restlessly paced the width of the room and back. Brianna’s heart sank at the evidence of how desperately Luc wanted to return to his Llanvelyn. Would he ever be truly content at Tullymullagh?
“How far is it to Fenella’s father’s holding?”
Brianna struggled to recall. “A week’s ride, perhaps a day or two longer.”
“And what manner of man is Fenella’s sire?”
Brianna shrugged. “I do not know him well enough to say. He is a distant cousin—I daresay my father knew his character better than I.”
Luc frowned out the window for a long moment, then flicked a piercing glance her way. His words were terse. “We shall await his arrival, to see your concerns set at ease. I would not have you worry for her all the winter long.” Luc nodded quickly. “Indeed, ’twill grant us time to see all set to rights here at Tullymullagh before we leave.”
There was a rap at the door and Luc dove back for the warmth of the bed. “They come for the linens.” Brianna gasped, sneaking a glance to ensure all was in order.
The dark stain of her maidenhead was more than clear.
“Ah, but who comes to gather the evidence?” Luc jested, his playful manner restored as he cuddled Brianna against his side. His protectiveness made her feel less self-conscious about this necessary rite and she was glad he ensured they faced the scrutiny of the household together.
“Gavin,” Brianna whispered with certainty, pulling the linens over her bare breasts. “He wants to ensure your prize is truly won.”
“Nay, ’tis Uther,” Luc argued with conviction. “He wants to see with his own eyes that his lord’s daughter is not shamed.” He scooped his chemise from the floor and eased it over her shoulders, fastening the tie with quick fingers. His hand paused against her jaw, and their gazes clung in recollection of the night they had shared.
It truly had been a wedding night worthy of a bard’s tale, to Brianna’s thinking.
“I do not think she is,” Brianna said breathlessly.
Luc smiled slowly, then bent closer. “Good,” he whispered against her lips, then kissed her once again.
Another rap sounded and Luc lifted his lips reluctantly, then arched a brow. His sapphire eyes glinted dangerously. “Shall we make a wager, my lady, on who crosses the threshold first?”
Brianna laughed in delight at this unexpected suggestion. She guessed well enough that even losing would be no loss. “Aye!” she agreed and poked a finger in Luc’s chest. “Winner names the terms.”
Luc’s eyes widened, his grin flashed, then he turned to face the portal. “Enter!” he bellowed and the door was opened immediately.
Both men were there, both clearly anxious to see the truth. Uther would have stepped across the threshold, but Gavin dug his elbow into the other man’s ribs with resolve and forced his way into the solar first. His expression was triumphant, but his rough manner launched a tremor of fear within Brianna.
For she recalled well enough that Luc’s long-ago pledge was to never take a blade within his grip again. What if another like Gavin came to Tullymullagh’s gates in the years ahead? Would Tullymullagh be captured anew?
And would all be resolved so satisfactorily as it had this time? Brianna could not believe the fates would smile so benevolently upon her again.
She swallowed and realized she could only hope that Luc would come to change his thinking. Perhaps he would come to take not only the peaceful life of the nobility once more, but resume the responsibility of war.
But then, Brianna knew well enough what pride the man put in keeping his pledge.
The days passed quickly at Tullymullagh, despite Luc’s impatience to be gone. Indeed, there was much to do. Brother Thomas, his priest, and the prior returned to Endlist in short order, and Luc ensured they went with an endowment for the monk’s aid in recent matters. The prior murmured that he would ensure Father Padraig was buried quietly in unconsecrated ground. A new priest arrived, a markedly more cheerful sort than Father Padraig, and Luc was pleased that the villagers accepted him so readily.
Ruarke sank into a corner of the hall and settled to making a considerable dint in the wine stores of Tullymullagh. He played the jilted and dissatisfied suitor to the extreme, but Luc noted that Brianna had no time for the knight at all.
He rather liked that.
Rowan went on his way on the same day his jongleurs moved on, the two brothers sharing a moment before they parted again. Gavin returned to France and, no doubt, Margaux’s demands.
In truth, Luc breathed a sigh of relief when his father departed, for he could not completely shake his suspicion that Gavin knew more of Connor’s death than he told. ’Twas no doubt only the brutality of the murder that made Luc’s thoughts run in that direction, but he waved a hearty farewell to both Gavin and his troupe of mercenaries.
Brianna set to her duties as lady of the keep with diligence. Indeed, she had laid claim to many of the keys and those in the kitchens had developed a hearty respect for her inventories. The woman forgot little and Luc could see the admiration all within Tullymullagh’s environs had for Connor’s daughter.
Indeed, he felt no small measure of it himself. With each day that passed, Luc found himself seeking the lady’s company more and more, and he savored each of her victories as his own. He showed Brianna a trick with the addition of the accounts that vastly increased her speed with sums and earned him a sound kiss for his aid.
Aye, though Brianna came late to the duties of administration, she had a keen intellect and learned at fearsome speed.
Luc teased Brianna one night that she would soon have no need of him at all. When the sparkle of her laughter filled the air, Luc scooped her up and carted her to the solar, much to the amusement of all in the hall.
And then, he had made her moan with delight, taking great pleasure in proving to her one deed for which he could not be replaced.
Luc and Uther set a court for Tuesdays, the issues of short gallons and stolen pigs and missing measures of flour not unlike the disputes Luc regularly settled at Llanvelyn. Brianna sat beside Luc, at his request, for she knew better than he what the custom of Tullymullagh had been. Luc appointed Matthew Miller as reeve, for that man seemed to have the respect of many in the village and Brianna thought well of him.
Luc and Brianna took alms to the poor together twice weekly and visited the sick and weakened midweek. Luc knew that another from the keep could have accompanied his wife on these duties long considered the domain of womenfolk, but he enjoyed watching her. Indeed, ’twas a good opportunity to meet his tenants, as well.
And Luc took time to visit a certain destrier, to brush that steed’s coat until it gleamed and to ride Raphael several times a week. Aye, were it not for a threat he feared yet lingered within Tullymullagh’s walls, Luc would have been content to remain there for all time.
On First Advent, Fenella’s sire came riding out of the hills and Brianna feared the worst.
“Daughter!” he roared before he even had dismounted. “Show yourself, Fenella, and make an accounting of your deeds!”
Brianna fled the kitchens only to find Luc already striding across the bailey, his expression grim. The entire household spilled into the bailey, their eyes wide at the spectacle. Indeed, Brianna was glad of Luc’s early arrival, for her cousin’s entry made her fear for Fenella’s hide.
But Fenella held up her chin, though her features were pale. “I am here!”
“Is it true that you have granted your maidenhead before the grace of nuptials?”
“Aye!” The maid blushed fearsomely at her own admission.
Fenella’s sire snorted. “And are you with child?” he shouted. He was a portly man, more aged than Connor had been, his hair as white as snow and his face ruddy.
Fenella tossed her hair. “Nay.”
“Praise be for small mercies.” Her father dismounted and cast aside his reins, a squire hastening to catch them. “At least there is naught for the gossips to gnaw upon.” Fenella’s face fell.
Luc stepped forward. “Are you Fenella’s sire?”
“Aye.”
“What do you intend to do?”
Fenella’s father glowered at Luc. “Who are you to question my intent? She is my daughter alone and her future is mine to assure.”
Luc folded his arms across his chest. “I am Lord of Tullymullagh, and this maid is consigned to my protection. She will not be beaten within these walls and she will not leave them before I am certain her safety is assured.”
Fenella’s father harumphed. “So, ’tis you who wed Connor’s daughter.”
“Aye,” Luc said smoothly. “I am Luc, now of Tullymullagh.”
The older man eyed the occupants of the bailey and seemed to swallow his anger.
“ ’Tis good,” Luc continued with a politeness that was doubtless deliberate, “to make the acquaintance of my wife’s cousin.”
“Likewise, I am certain.” Fenella’s father looked sternly to his daughter. “Would that it had been under less dire circumstance. Have you a draught of ale in this place for a man who has ridden long and hard?”
“Of course. Perhaps we might discuss your daughter’s prospects in the hall?” Luc gestured to the portal and Brianna sent servants scattering to make all ready.
Fenella’s father harumphed and stomped into the hall behind Luc, a wave of chatter erupting behind them. The pair finally sat opposite each other in the hall, Fenella lingering fearfully behind her father.
Brianna hovered behind Luc, hoping he would see her fears assured. She doubted that Fenella would see her way in this and hoped heartily that all would be well resolved.
Her cousin nodded acknowledgement of her presence, then lifted his chalice. The men saluted each other’s health with formality and drank of the ale.
“Dermot came to you, then,” Luc commented.
Brianna caught her breath as the older man glared at Luc. “Aye, that he did.”
“And he told you all?”
Fenella’s father snorted. “Aye, I know his sordid history well enough.” He drummed a heavy fingertip on the board and his color deepened. “When first he rode beneath my portcullis, I must tell you that I was not inclined to welcome him. Nay, I remember well enough Ismay of Claremont’s determination to wed this man and the ploy they two used to see their will achieved, despite her guardian’s objection.”
He harumphed and took another drink of the ale. “ ’Twas no surprise when he confessed Fenella’s circumstance, though truly I thought the girl a bit more keen of wit than that.”
Fenella stiffened, but Brianna signalled her to silence. ’Twould serve naught if she angered her father now.
“I am surprised he is not with you,” Luc said.
“Ha!” Fenella’s father inhaled another measure of ale. “He had no such chance! ’Twas what took me so long,” he declared. “I thought to test the lad.”
“Test him?” Luc straightened slightly at this.
“Aye.” The older man nodded vigorously. “I told him I would grant my holding to no man who could neither manage nor defend it. I cast him to my knights.”
Fenella’s eyes went round. “Father, you did not!”
“I most certainly did. And to his credit, he not only survived but learned much.” Fenella sagged in relief, but her father shook a finger in her direction. “You may be assured that the man you sent me is not the one who awaits you.”
“But—”
“But naught! I will make a man of honor of him, if ’tis the last deed I do on this earth.”
“But Father, you cannot treat him so poorly! ’Tis unfair!”
The older man turned smoothly to regard his outraged daughter. “Unfair? How is it unfair that I would see you well-wed, well-matched, and with a man by your side upon whom you may depend? God willing, you will have many years without me, Fenella, and ’tis my duty to see you secure.” He scowled, taking in the entire hall with his disapproving glare. “And what have you told this new lord of me, that he assumes I shall beat you for your folly?”
Fenella flushed. “Naught, Father.”
He poked a finger through the air to his daughter. “Have I ever laid a hand upon you?”
Fenella shook her head. “Nay, Father.” She winced. “Though you oft bellow most fearsomely.”
“Ha.” Her father took another swallow of ale, his gaze turning upon Luc once more. “And can a man be blamed for that when women addle his wits all the day long?”
Fenella took a hesitant step closer.
Luc cleared his throat, evidently noting her uncertainty and guessing the question she would ask. “What of Dermot?”
“He will make a fitting enough groom,” her father conceded gruffly.
Fenella caught her breath. “Truly?”
“Truly. The priest makes ready for the exchange of your vows and your mother—” he rolled his eyes “—nigh drives me mad with her fussing about. Dermot is not the man I might have picked, but you have chosen him and he will have to do.”
“Oh, Father!”
That man eyed his daughter when she hesitated a half dozen steps away from him. “You have grown to a woman within Tullymullagh’s walls,” he said unevenly. “And now you are to be a bride.” He opened his arms. “Come here, Fenella, and let me look upon you.”
Fenella burst into tears in her relief. She ran into her father’s embrace. He held her close and closed his eyes as he laid his cheek against hers. “Fear not, child of mine, I have no intent of dying before I deem Dermot a fitting heir to me and suitable husband for you.”
Luc cleared his throat pointedly and Fenella’s father looked to him over his daughter’s dark hair. “You have naught to fear, Luc of Tullymullagh,” he declared somberly. “You have my pledge that this woman shall not be bruised, however foolish she has been. She is my daughter and my pride, and this we shall see resolved together.”
And he offered Luc his hand.
The men shook hands solemnly, sealing an agreement between men of honor, and the entire household sagged with relief.
Brianna bit her lip, her own tears rising that all had been resolved in the end. Dermot must truly love Fenella to have endured her father’s testing. It could only be a good prospect for their future.
Luc rose from the board, leaving the two to their reunion and came to Brianna’s side. “Tears?” He eased one away with a fingertip and smiled. “Do not tell me you wanted a different resolution than this one?”
“You!” Brianna took a deep breath and leaned against him, looking up into his eyes. “I thank you for this.”
Luc’s crooked smile warmed Brianna’s heart and she loved the weight of his arm around her waist. “I am not a man to shirk a responsibility,” he declared, then flicked a fingertip across the tip of her nose. “Nor one to miss an opportunity to make my lady smile.”
Brianna did smile, knowing ’twas her turn to ease Luc’s concerns. “There is naught keeping us from Llanvelyn now,” she reminded softly and Luc nodded.
“Shall we leave on the morrow?”
“Aye.” Brianna nodded agreement. “But there is something I must retrieve in the morn before we depart.” Luc looked puzzled, but Brianna squeezed his fingertips. “Letters from my mother, written to my father before they were wed.”
Luc smiled down at her. “And a precious legacy they must be to you. Of course, we shall not leave without them.”
In the morning, Brianna led Luc to the side of her dame’s sarcophagus with hasty steps. She checked that none was about, then dropped quickly to one knee. Luc followed suit, his brow furrowed in a frown, though he said naught.
Brianna scrabbled with her fingers to remove the one loose stone—the one that did not appear loose—and as soon as Luc saw what she did, he finished the deed. His gloved hands were so much stronger than her own that the stone was quickly removed.
And the metal box was securely in Brianna’s grip once more. She bit her lip with her relief, then handed it to her spouse. “Will you carry it for me?”
“If you prefer.” Brianna nodded at his inquiring glance, not trusting herself to ensure the safety of the treasure. Luc smiled, accepted the box, and slipped it into the pouch secured beneath his tabard.
’Twas there he had secreted all their coin for the voyage and Brianna liked very much that Luc considered her mother’s letters as much of a valuable. He shifted his tabard and cloak, then arched a dark brow at Brianna.
“It cannot be discerned,” she confirmed and Luc captured her hand securely within his own.
A sound carried from the stables and Brianna caught her breath, feigning that she prayed while with shaking fingers she tried to replace the stone.
Luc covered her hand with his own and smoothly managed the deed, his low voice murmuring the paternoster beside her ear. Their gazes met and held for a charged moment, then Brianna folded her hands around Luc’s own.
When they finished, Luc helped her to her feet, then led her toward the stables. Denis was there, his squires busily tending a pair of palfreys while the ostler murmured to none other than the destrier Raphael.
Brianna looked to her spouse in surprise, but Luc strode to the steed’s side and took a brush in hand. “He looks anxious to run, Denis.”
“As always, my lord. He seems to sense when you mean to ride him.”
Brianna blinked. “You have ridden him since the day you went to Endlist?”
Luc grinned. “Aye, a man must occupy himself while his wife tallies the accounts.”
“You! I labored while you played!”
Luc chuckled and winked at Denis. “The lady clearly has not brushed down a steed so large nor cleaned his hooves of mire.”
The ostler nodded approvingly. “A solid few hours of labor, my lady, of that you may be certain.” He beamed at the destrier. “But such attention has made all the difference to this one.”
Raphael, apparently knowing he was being discussed, snorted and stamped his foot. He fixed Luc with an expectant glance and tossed his head. When Denis reached for his bridle, though, the stallion danced away from the ostler with a disdainful flick of his tail.
Luc chuckled and grasped those reins, urging the steed to his side. “Always one to challenge expectation, are you not?” he murmured to the beast. Luc rubbed Raphael’s ears and the horse nuzzled his neck with obvious affection. “But when it matters, such a noble creature can be relied upon. I have missed his ilk, Denis.”
Raphael tossed his head as though he would agree with the sentiment. Dozens of tiny silver bells fastened to his harness rang at his move. ’Twas clear the beast was delighted with his appearance, for there was a gleam in his eye.
Brianna watched Luc check the steed’s harness, gentleness in his every move, and listened as he murmured to the beast. And as she stood in the sun-flecked interior of the stables, a simple truth echoed in her heart.
She loved this man. She loved his gentleness and his strength, she loved his concern and his protectiveness. Indeed, she knew she could rely upon his integrity, just as she knew he would occasionally challenge her expectation.
Luc Fitzgavin had sworn a pledge, after all, to win Brianna’s heart, and she smiled with the certainty that once again, he had kept his word.
Luc’s eyes were deeply blue as he turned to Brianna and lifted his gloved hand to her. Not for the first time, she had the sense that he could read the secrets of her very heart.
But this time, Brianna did not care. She held his gaze and smiled.
“My lady, shall we ride together?”
Brianna accepted Luc’s aid, liking how his hands fitted securely around her waist. “Perhaps,” he murmured against her temple, “you might be so kind as to remind me to fetch my spurs while we are at Llanvelyn.”
Brianna pulled back to meet his eyes. “You yet have them?”
“Of course!” He glanced significantly to the destrier. “And I shall have need of them to ride this feisty steed.”
Brianna tapped his shoulder with resolve. “If your spurs are there, then we shall retrieve your mail, as well. I do not like you travelling without such protection.”
But Luc chuckled easily at her concern. “I think, Denis, the lady means to keep me.”
The ostler chortled in turn. Luc kissed Brianna’s brow, as though unable to resist the opportunity, then lifted her to the fore of his saddle. “Luc, I am most serious.”
“I know.” But a moment later, Luc’s warmth was fast behind her, his arm around her waist, his muscled thigh against her own, his breath in her hair. “Fear not,” he whispered against her hood, “you will have the leisure of ensuring all you desire from Llanvelyn comes to Tullymullagh for our return.”
And Brianna had to be satisfied with that.
The destrier was exultant and clearly impatient to be on his way. Luc and Denis made short work of looping the reins of the two palfreys to Raphael’s saddle, then the trio of steeds pranced into the chill of the bailey. Brianna was delighted to find so many roused so early, all evidently intent on waving farewell.
“I shall ensure all runs smoothly,” Uther declared.
“I have no doubt,” Luc countered, a thread of humor in his tone. His arm tightened around Brianna and he gave Raphael his heels. The first few flakes of snow tumbled from the pearly morning sky as Brianna left Tullymullagh for the first time in all her days.
But she was with Luc, and the love burning in her heart meant that her home was wherever that man might be. Brianna had found her one true love, where she had least expected he might be, precisely as she had always dreamed.
And now, all Brianna had to do was win Luc’s heart for her own.
Though truly, the man treated her with such consideration that she dared to hope the deed was already well begun.
Two days later Brianna awoke when the first pink of the dawn stained the horizon. The light fanned through the shutters, painting the humble tavern chamber in rosy hues.
Brianna smiled as she nestled deeper against her husband’s warmth. Luc breathed deeply and evenly, the rhythm of his heart steady beneath Brianna’s ear. These days of each other’s company had been a delight, the intimacy between the two growing by leaps and bounds without the distraction of obligations.
Brianna smiled, as she admitted once more that her husband had decided aright.
Knowing that they must be on their way to the ship soon, she eyed the confusion of their belongings and decided to surprise him. Brianna rolled from the heat of the bed with reluctance. She packed her few things quickly, then scanned the comparative order of Luc’s possessions.
A church bell rang in the distance, surely for Matins.
But Luc only nuzzled the spot Brianna had vacated, sighed, and slumbered on. She resolved immediately to let him sleep yet longer, for the man had labored heroically the night before. Brianna bit back her grin and folded his chemise, laying aside the chausses Luc would surely wear on the ship that day.
Beneath the chausses was the satchel Luc wore beneath his tabard. Brianna could not resist the urge to check upon her dame’s precious box. ’Twas there, as she had known it would be, but beside it lurked the sack Gavin had granted Luc at his investiture.
Curious, for she had never handled the seal of Tullymullagh, Brianna pulled out the sack. She slanted a glance to the sleeping Luc, then resolved it could harm little to look. She loosened the lace, dumped out the contents, and was stunned to find not one seal falling into her hand, but two.
One bore the familiar crest of Tullymullagh.
The other made Brianna’s heart stop cold. She could not be certain, so she kneaded the red sealing wax also in the sack and pressed the seal deep into its softness. When Brianna regarded the imprint, she felt the blood drain from her face.
’Twas the seal of Llanvelyn Manor she held in her hand.
’Twas the very seal Luc swore he had come to Tullymullagh to make his own that he carried in his satchel, the seal that Gavin had denied him.
The seal Gavin had promised to grant Luc if he but went on Brianna’s quest.
Win or lose.
Luc had refused that offer, Brianna had not wed Burke, yet now Luc had the seal.
Brianna’s mouth went dry. Was her wedding the result of some wager between father and son? She could not believe it!
But she had to know the truth. Brianna launched herself across the room and shook Luc bodily awake. Surely the man would reassure her?
“When were you granted the seal of Llanvelyn?” she asked breathlessly when first Luc’s eye opened.
“What?” Luc frowned, ran a hand through his hair, and regarded her as though she spoke in tongues. Brianna wagged the seal beneath his very nose until his eyes widened in recognition.
“You said your sire would not give it to you—you said he had broken his word,” Brianna choked out the words, her tears rising in fear. “Gavin said he would grant it to you when Burke took my hand or when you went upon the quest. Luc! Is that why you took me to wife?”
Luc gave himself a visible shake. “Brianna, ’twas not like that. You have concluded wrongly.” He reached for her shoulders, but Brianna danced away.
“Then why did he grant it to you?”
“I do not know! Why does the man do anything?” Luc frowned impatiently and sat up on the side of the bed. “Brianna! You make much of little. If you but grant me a chance to explain—”
“You have but one thing to explain,” Brianna declared, her back against the most distant wall of the chamber. ’Twas clear she had her spouse’s full attention for his eyes were deadly blue. “Did your sire grant you the seal of Llanvelyn in exchange for wedding me?”
Luc looked away. His lips drew thin, he swore softly, then he turned his gaze upon Brianna. “I cannot guess his thinking.”
A lump rose in Brianna’s throat, for this was far from the reassurance she desired. “When did he grant it to you?”
Luc swore softly. “You must not make overmuch of this,” he urged with a shake of his finger. “But when he granted me the seal of Tullymullagh, the seal of Llanvelyn was also enclosed.”
“On the very day of our nuptials?”
“Aye.”
Brianna frowned. “But you said naught to me. Why be secretive if you truly have naught to hide?”
Luc grimaced and shook his head. “I did not think it of import.”
“Not of import!” Brianna was outraged by these words. “But, Luc, you said ’twas all you wanted!”
“I was wrong.” Luc shrugged. “I felt naught when Gavin entrusted it to me.” His sapphire gaze blazed into her own and his voice dropped low. “It did not matter. Brianna, I swear it to you, I did not wed you for Llanvelyn.”
Brianna came within a hair’s breadth of believing him. In truth, Luc had never lied to her and there was a sincerity shining in his gaze.
But there was one confession she needed to hear and it could wait no longer. But three words would make all come aright.
Brianna caught her breath and leaned closer, never breaking Luc’s gaze, her grip tight on the seal. “Why did you wed me?” she asked unevenly. “You told me yourself that marriage was not for you. What compelled you to change your thinking?”
And for the first time since Brianna had known him, Luc Fitzgavin seemed at a loss for words. He stared at her, though not a word fell from his lips.
He was completely flummoxed by her question.
But Brianna knew full well what that meant. She felt her very heart rend in two. Luc could not pledge his love for her because he felt none.
And Luc told her no lies.
“Knave!” Brianna cried and flung Llanvelyn’s seal in his very face. “I loved you! I granted you my all! I even believed that there was some tenderness lurking within your heart for me!”
Luc cast the seal he had instinctively caught aside. He came after her, nude, his eyes bright with determination. “Brianna, you must let me explain.…”
But she already knew he could not tell her what she wanted to hear. Brianna snatched up her small satchel, hating the weak tears that blurred her vision, and felt the anger drain from her voice.
“You and my father were right,” she confessed softly. “ ’Twas folly indeed to believe in the merit of love.”
And Brianna pivoted toward the door.
“Brianna!” Luc roared, but Brianna was not going to stop. She darted from the chamber, slamming the door forcefully behind herself despite the hour. Hot tears plummeted down her cheeks, blurring her vision, but she clung to the wall and raced down the steps as quickly as she was able.
She had been such a fool!
Love was not to be hers, ’twas clear. She would return to Tullymullagh, for she had nowhere else to go, and there she would weep until she could weep no more.
Brianna heard Luc call from behind her and stumbled in haste down the last of the stairs. She knew she fled the traitorous yearning of her heart to return to Luc.
How could he care naught for her?
Brianna reached the street and nearly fell on the frosted cobblestones. She righted herself and fled toward the shadows of the tavern’s stable, intending to steal one of her own steeds.
But Brianna did not get that far. She barely rounded the corner of the house when someone snatched at her from a doorway.
Thieves!
A man’s hand clamped over her mouth, another hand pinned her arms to her waist. Brianna struggled, to no avail, and belatedly wished she had been more cautious.
“And good morning to you, Lady Brianna,” an appallingly familiar voice droned in her ear.
Brianna jumped and twisted—her captor was perfectly content to let her look. Her eyes widened in horror when that person smiled with cold malice.
And Brianna knew with dreadful certainty precisely who her father had met in the private chapel of Tullymullagh.
Just as she knew she would shortly share her sire’s fate.