“Lyndon,” Bracken spoke without ever taking his eyes from the scruffy woman in his midst.
“Yes, my lord?”
“Bring one of the women to assist Lady Megan to a bedchamber and see to her needs.
“You have one hour,” Bracken said, turning to Megan, “to be back down here for my inquisition.”
Bracken said the last word threateningly and a shiver raced up Megan’s spine. She positively hated to be ordered about in this fashion, but when a woman old enough to be her mother appeared at her side, she left with only a glare in the earl’s direction.
Nearly one hour later Megan finally rose from her bath. Helga, the servant assigned to her, was there with a piece of toweling, and she had finally stopped goggling. Megan was compassionate. She could almost hear the woman’s thoughts.
This is the servant who works in the creamery! The one who came this morning bearing a churn!
Sometime during Megan’s meal or bath, Helga must have realized that a mistake had been made. She had addressed Meagan as “my lady” at least 15 times.
“I’m sorry, my lady,” Helga spoke now. “I have no clothing for you.”
“’Tis all right, Helga. Just fetch me the furs from the bed and then you can do my hair.”
“Yes, my lady.” The servant was swift to obey, and in just minutes Megan sat wrapped from neck to ankle as Helga stood behind her to brush out the mass of red curls.
The action caused Megan to relax completely. She had always been a survivor, but the last week had been more than even she was accustomed to. The fight with her mother still weighed heavily on her mind, and a quick counting of the days told her that it still wasn’t time for her to have left Stone Lake, which meant that her father was probably still away.
Megan let out a deep sigh; she was growing very sleepy. Her stomach was full for the first time in days, and she was finally clean and warm. Her head began to nod. She noticed that Helga had stopped brushing, but she couldn’t find the words to tell her to continue. A moment later something soft was laid next to her cheek and Megan stopped trying to think so her body could sleep.
Six
“DID YOU NOT HEAR MY WORDS?”
Megan woke to the sound of an angry male voice, but she had no idea where she was.
“I told you to be in the great room in one hour. Is there something wrong with your ears?”
Megan’s senses returned to her in a rush, and she looked up to find Bracken towering over her in a conspicuous rage.
“There is nothing wrong with my ears,” Megan told him coldly when he continued to glare.
“Then why aren’t you downstairs?”
“I have nothing to wear.”
“I don’t care—” Bracken began, thinking that women could be very tiresome over their wardrobes, but Megan cut him off.
“Yes, I can see that you don’t care.” She stood now, the furs still wrapped around her, feeling angry as well. “I have known a week of humiliation in your keep, and now you ask me to parade myself in your great hall without a stitch of clothing on. Well, I won’t!”
They were toe-to-toe now, but hardly nose to nose. Bracken eventually noticed what she was wearing, and for the first time his normal good humor was restored to him. Here she was, wrapped in furs, hair all around her face, the top of her head stopping somewhere around the middle of his chest, and she was giving the orders. Bracken’s eyes lit with amusement, and Megan’s narrowed with indignation.
“Do you find this amusing, Lord Bracken?” Her voice was low, and he noticed for the first time how husky it was.
“Indeed, I do, Lady Megan,” he admitted “But,” he spoke when she opened her mouth to berate him, “I will see that clothing is provided for you, and I will expect you to join me as soon as you are able. Does this meet with my lady’s approval?”
Megan caught the sarcasm in his question, but she nodded just the same. The sooner they could talk, the sooner she might be able to leave.
She stood still while he exited the chamber and was still standing when Helga returned, surprising Megan by bringing both of the dresses that had been left in her trunk.
“What say you, Arik?”
“Concerning your lady?”
“Yes. When did you find her?”
“She arrived with Elias, the peddler. She tried to gain entrance to the castle but was denied.” The huge man’s voice was rusty from lack of use.
“And she ended up working in the creamery?” Bracken had been pacing the floor of the war room but now stopped for Arik’s reply. He answered with a nod.
“Where did she sleep?”
“The smithy’s.”
Bracken’s eyes slid shut. What on earth had possessed the girl to come early?
Watching him, Arik decided that now was not the time to say that the Lady Megan had arisen each night and tried to leave the smithery while still sleeping.
“While here in the keep, did she come to harm in any way?”
Arik didn’t bother to answer or so much as lift a brow. It was a foolish question with him as her protector, and Bracken knew it the moment the words left his mouth.
“Bracken.”
The young lord turned at the sound of his name. Lyndon, the knight as close to Bracken as his own brothers, stood just inside the door.
“Lady Megan is in the great hall.”
Bracken nodded and shot a glance at Arik. The larger man was studying him, but as usual Bracken could not discern his thoughts. Without another word, he walked from the room, both Arik and Lyndon at his heels.
Megan could feel several eyes on her as she swept down the main stairway and into the great hall, but the hall itself was such a pleasant surprise that she gave the scrutiny little heed.
It was very spacious and could rival her mother’s for cleanliness. It sported not one, but two mammoth fireplaces, and Megan thought how practical this was for chasing away the cold on winter days.
Megan stopped before the fireplace on the north wall and studied the family crest above the mantel. Twin hawks, wings up for landing, flew talons-first toward the center, where a shield which sported a huge male lion, his noble head proud, seemed to stare out over the hall. Megan was very impressed with the symmetry and grandeur of the entire crest. She was still looking at it when Bracken approached. Megan heard his footsteps and turned.
She watched him hesitate, and for some reason flushed with embarrassment. She knew she did not look her best. Her dress was not pressed, and she had no combs for her hair. She would have been stunned to know that Bracken’s hesitation was over her looks, but not because he found them lacking.
He recalled the other times he had seen her: in the war room, on the road, briefly here in the great room, and then up in a bedchamber. The first three times she had been covered with dirt, her dress a rag, but why when he’d seen her upstairs hadn’t he recognized her loveliness?
His eyes now took in skin that looked like fresh cream, lips full and red, and eyes so enormous and green that they seemed to swallow her face. Added to all of this was the most glorious mass of hair he had ever seen. Suddenly it didn’t make a bit of difference that it was red. In fact, he rather liked it. Maybe this woman had been to court after all.
It’s wonderful when a husband and wife find each other attractive.
Aunt Louisa’s words came back to him, and he could testify at the moment that at least part of that statement was true—he found Megan very attractive. But one look also told him that she did not share the sentiment. The eyes regarding him were trying to disguise their fear, but Bracken was not fooled. He knew it was time for business.
“Please, sit down.”
Megan complied and watched as Bracken sat across from her. He was a large man, probably taller than her father and definitely broader. She had never seen anyone with such dark skin and so much dark hair. It covered his head in tight curls and even curled down the back of his neck. His forearms were covered and so was the vee of skin at the top of his tun
ic. The dark color of his full beard made his teeth look very white.
“How is it that you are here ahead of schedule, Megan?”
“My father is away, and my mother sent me. I don’t believe she knew of the date.”
“Your father was going to accompany you?”
“Yes.” Megan was thankful that he didn’t seem ready to question her mother’s actions. She would have been ashamed to explain her mother’s ruthlessness.
“And you lived in the keep?”
“Yes. I arrived Monday, and as no one expected me, I stayed on.”
“As a servant?” Bracken’s voice was harsh, but he was not angry with her, just concerned.
“Yes.” Megan’s chin went in the air. “I saw no other way. The road home was long, and I’d already watched my men die under attack. I am not afraid of hard work and staying seemed most rational.”
“Arik tells me you slept at the smithy’s.”
Megan’s eyes flew to that giant who was standing against one wall across the room. He was looking back at her, and Megan couldn’t suppress a shudder. He was so huge and silent.
“There is no reason to fear him. ’Tis true that he’s a huge man, nearly seven feet tall, but he would die protecting you.” Bracken’s voice was soft now, and Megan’s eyes went back to his.
“He can talk?”
Bracken smiled. “Yes, but he chooses to do so very rarely.”
Megan nodded.
“Because you are early, Megan, there is no attendant here for you.”
“I thought your aunt lived with you.” Megan’s eyes had grown even larger.
“Most often she does. She was coming early next week to stay until we are wed, but right now she is in London. I have sent a man for her. She will arrive sometime tomorrow.”
“Oh.” Megan looked flustered, and Bracken went on smoothly.
“It is certainly not ideal that you stay here tonight without my aunt in attendance, but as you slept unaccompanied in my keep for five nights, one more will hardly make a difference. And,” Bracken added dryly, “we are scheduled to wed.”
“Oh,” Megan said again.
The single word caught Bracken’s attention. His dark eyes studied her. “What did that mean?” he asked softly.
Megan swallowed. “Only that I wasn’t sure if we still would.”
Bracken did not want to tell her that he’d had the same doubts, and replied only, “I can’t see that we have much choice.”
Megan nodded and fell silent. Her father’s intent was that she would know this man before they wed, but at this moment that seemed an impossibility. There was something too powerful and dark about him.
“Were you ever a blonde?”
The question, so innocently put, caused Megan’s entire frame to stiffen and her face to grow rigid. Bracken was amazed at the change in her.
“You mistake me for my sister, Marigold.”
“Is she older or younger?” Bracken asked, causing Megan to believe he was truly interested.
“She is older.” Megan turned her gaze from him now, and her voice became flat. “Marigold’s aspirations go far beyond the title of earl, so I fear you are stuck with me.”
Megan never did turn her head, or she would have seen the amusement in Bracken’s eyes. He didn’t want Marigold, not after meeting Megan, but he found a bit of jealousy between sisters to be an entertaining thing. It would be some time before he learned that for Megan, Marigold was no laughing matter.
Bracken lay in bed for nearly an hour that night thinking on the day’s events. He knew that Megan had returned to the bedchamber she’d bathed in and wondered if she was comfortable. He mentally shrugged. As soon as Aunt Louisa arrived, she would live in the tower apartments with her. After living in an abbey, Megan would certainly forgive him one night in a stark chamber. Bracken fell asleep then, but it seemed only moments instead of hours before Lyndon spoke his name in the dark.
“Bracken.”
“What is it?” A trained warrior, Bracken was instantly awake.
“I think you should come to the hall.”
Bracken rose without question, and after he had joined Lyndon on the stairs, both men stood in awe of the scene below.
Megan sat in a chair by the fire looking into the flames. She wore a borrowed night garment, coarse and many sizes too large for her. Beyond her chair, standing and still fully dressed, was Arik. As Bracken and Lyndon watched, Megan stood and started for the door, but Arik was there ahead of her, preventing her from reaching for the handle.
“No, my lady,” his deep, gravely voice could be heard.
Megan tried to come around him, but he moved to block her. After a moment she returned to the chair, and Bracken walked down the stairs. He stared at Megan as he passed, but went directly to Arik. Before he could question him, Megan was on her feet again. She came to the door. This time Bracken heard her speak.
“I have to go home.”
“No, my lady,” Arik said, holding his body between her and the door. Megan’s hands came out as if to push Arik off but no one had moved to touch her.
“Mother sent me away before my clothes were ready. I have to see Father. I have no brush for my hair.”
Megan tried to get to the door again, but Arik sidestepped and prevented it. At the same time, Bracken reached gently for her hand, enfolding it in his large one. Megan woke with a start. She stared up at Bracken and then at Arik before reclaiming her hand and tightly folding her arms across her chest.
“Did I say anything?” she asked, her voice so vulnerable that Bracken’s heart constricted.
“No,” he lied to her without conscience, knowing that if he told her she would feel shamed.
“Let me see you to your room, Megan,” Bracken offered. The small redhead nodded and preceded him across the hall and up the stairs. They didn’t speak, and Bracken was glad that Lyndon had made himself scarce. At the same time, another thought occurred to him: The tower apartments were not an option. His intended walked in her sleep. He had never known anyone who did, but a fall down the tower steps could mean her death. Bracken would never take that risk.
Seven
MEGAN HAD NOT YET MADE an appearance downstairs when Bracken cornered Arik in the great room the next morning.
“Whether or not you’re in the mood to speak, my great friend, I need to know more about Lady Megan’s actions last night. Did she walk while sleeping in the smithy’s shop?”
“Every night.”
Bracken had not been prepared for that answer. It gave him pause, and he stared at the giant knight without really seeing him. He’d been thinking Megan might walk in her sleep on a rare occasion, but evidently she had done it every night she’d been at Hawkings Crest.
“How did you stop her?”
“I didn’t. I blocked her path.”
“You never woke her?”
Arik’s head moved in denial.
Megan chose that moment to come downstairs, and Bracken moved off after just a few words of instruction to Arik. He met Megan at the bottom of the stairs and noticed immediately that she looked rested but slightly wary.
“Good morning to you, Megan. Come, break the fast with me.”
Megan allowed herself to be led to the head table and took a seat at the top of the long bench. Bracken took the large wooden chair that sat at the head of the table and studied Megan for a few silent moments.
“How did you sleep?”
Megan blushed, her eyes on her hands. “I never remember anything if I walk in my sleep, so until you woke me, I knew nothing.”
“And when you returned to your chambers?”
She now looked at him. “I slept again right away.”
Food was placed before them. For some time they ate in silence. Megan found the fare very appetizing and ate her fill. Bracken was done ahead of her, however, and while she finished, he told her he was working on a change in plans.
“When my Aunt Louisa lives with me, she always occupies the a
partments in the tower. I had originally planned for you to live with her. With the long, narrow stairs, that is out of the question. I will have to make other arrangements.”
“Do you mean to suggest that you will send me home?” Megan’s voice was so hopeful that Bracken had to hide a smile.
“I believe your father wished for us to become better acquainted.”
Megan shrugged. “I thought that since we’ve at least met, it might suffice to see one another a few times before we wed. Would that not serve the same purpose?”
They both knew it would not, but Bracken was amazed over the emotions her words evoked. For a man who would have gladly refused the king’s orders, he was certainly working hard to think of ways to keep Megan with him. His pride, however, would not let him admit this to her.
“I’m sorry you do not wish to remain here, Megan, but if you recall, it was not my idea but your father’s and the king’s.”
Megan blushed to the roots of her hair. He must not want this marriage any more than she did. She had no words. She had been adjusting to new situations all of her life, but this was by far the most difficult.
She did not want to be married yet, and having to live with this man who would soon be her husband was the most awkward experience thus far. Every time he looked at her or touched her in any way, Megan felt utterly defenseless. It was not something she enjoyed. For the most part, Megan was used to being in charge of her own wants. Now she had to answer to this man. He did not strike her as being cruel, but she could tell that he liked to have his own way as often as she did herself.
Megan had not come down early that morning. She had been praying—confessing, actually. She had grown angry many times the day before and had not confessed each occurrence to God on the spot. Her sins hung over her when she had wakened, and she knew she could not start the day with such a heart.
Bracken and Megan were still sitting silently in one another’s company when Lyndon joined them. He didn’t sit until Bracken gave him leave, but when he did it was on the end of the other bench, directly opposite Megan.