COLM WAS A POSSESSIVE MAN. HE KEPT A WATCHFUL EYE on Gabrielle and found that he didn’t like any man standing too close to her or staring overly long.
In the days since their marriage, he hadn’t relaxed his guard. One evening after supper, Liam and Colm were alone in the great hall. While Willa and Maurna cleared the table, Liam decided to bring up his brother’s intense watchfulness.
“Come and stand by the fire, Colm, so that I may speak to you in private.”
Liam knelt on one knee and tossed a fat log into the fire, then pulled a chair closer to the heat and sat down.
Colm leaned against the hearth and waited to hear what his brother had to say.
“Do you have reason to distrust Gabrielle?” Liam asked.
The question offended Colm, but he knew Liam wasn’t trying to insult him or Gabrielle. “Of course not,” he muttered.
Liam nodded. “You are right to trust her. She would never be untrue to you. I see where her heart belongs.”
“And where might that be?”
His brother laughed. “You cannot be that blind. You know she loves you.”
Colm didn’t acknowledge Liam’s words. Love was for women to talk about, not warriors.
“Why did you ask me if I distrusted her when you already held the answer?”
“Because of the way you act. You behave like a jealous man.”
“I am not jealous. I guard what is mine. Gabrielle deserves as much protection as any other member of my clan.”
“She is your wife, Colm.”
“And I will guard her well.”
Gabrielle caught their attention when she appeared on the stairs. She stepped to the side and waited while two of Colm’s men carried up her trunk.
“Gabrielle, why are you taking salt to your room?”
As the men passed her she told them, “Put it across the hearth in my chamber, please.”
“I’ll show them where it should go,” Maurna called out as she hurried to help. “But milady, why is it you want a trunk of salt in your room?”
“It isn’t salt,” she explained to Maurna. And then to Colm and Liam she said, “If you’ll remember, Colm, I told you that all but one of the trunks were filled with salt. It took forever to find the right trunk, and as luck would have it, it was on the bottom of the stack.”
“You will wear the MacHugh colors. You have no need of English clothes,” he answered.
“I may not need them, but I’m still going to keep them. There are other things in the trunk as well, reminders and memories of Wellingshire and St. Biel.”
“Good God, Gabrielle, you’ve got enough reminders of St. Biel,” Liam said. “Colm, did you see the size of the statue the abbot sent? It’s in the storage room until you build Gelroy a chapel. Then it will go inside the church.”
“No, Liam,” Gabrielle said. “It doesn’t go inside. It stays outside by the door so that all will see it as they go in. It is tradition.”
“None of the statues in St. Biel are inside churches?”
“Of course not. We pray to God, not to statues.”
Liam had stood when she entered the room, but once she was seated, he returned to his chair.
“Is it true that another statue is coming from your father?”
“Yes. It belonged to my mother, and now that I am married it will come to me. It’s tradition.”
“Any others on their way here?” Colm drawled.
“Just a dozen or so,” she teased.
She was laughing at their reaction when her guards requested to speak to her. She took one look at her faithful guards’ serious faces and knew immediately what they were going to tell her: they were going home.
Gabrielle took a deep breath and desperately tried to hold back the tears. It would be wrong for her to cry. She glanced at Colm and could tell from his expression that the guards had already spoken to him. She slowly walked over to them and folded her hands as though in prayer.
“You’re going home.”
She looked at Stephen as she made the statement.
“It is time, Princess. We are now convinced that your laird will keep you safe.”
She took his hand in hers and said, “You have been my truest friend, Stephen. I do not know how I will ever go on without you.”
He bowed to her and stepped back. Gabrielle clasped Lucien’s hand next. “We have had many misadventures together, have we not? I think you will be happy to be rid of me.”
“Nay, I will not, Princess. I will miss you, but I will always carry you in my heart.”
Faust was next in line. She took his hand and said, “Can you believe it, Faust? You will soon see St. Biel’s mountains.”
“I shall miss you, Princess.”
Christien was last. She touched his hand and said, “You have saved me from death too many times to count. I owe you my life, Christien, and I will miss you.”
“You will not have to miss me long, Princess. I will be back. I will know when it is time.”
They bowed low and took their leave. A single tear trickled down her cheek. Without a word, Gabrielle left the hall and went up to her room.
Colm knew she needed to be alone. He waited as long as he could, and then he went to her chamber. She was curled up on the bed, weeping. He gathered her in his arms and comforted her the only way he knew. He let her cry.