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The earl squinted and tiny lines fanned out along the corners of his eyes. “If the lad can survive the Scots, he can manage anything. Isn’t that what ye wanted?”
“Yes. Yes, of course.” Fiona’s throat closed as she tried to look confident. This was why she had come, to ensure that Spencer was trained. She had known the Scots were a people engrossed in warfare, but she had not realized how threatening and predatory they could appear.
Even the earl, who was dressed as finely as any English lord she had ever seen, was formidable and unyielding. How would a physically deficient Spencer fare against these warriors? Was she unwittingly placing her child in mortal danger?
Fiona closed her eyes, awash in confusion. There were too many conflicting emotions coursing through her veins, making her feel off balance.
“Are ye feeling unwell?”
Fiona’s eyelids fluttered open. The earl had taken a few steps closer to her. At this distance he towered over her, his muscular physique clearly outlined beneath his clothes. But it was the strong angles of his face, the sharp line of his cheek and jaw that held her attention.
He was, without question, the most physically striking man she had ever met. And she had just agreed to become his mistress. Her face flooded with a mortified blush. “Forgive me. I’m a bit tired. It’s been a most eventful afternoon.”
He nodded. “I’ll have a servant see ye to yer chamber.”
The earl’s words drew the attention of the women gathered at the foot of the dais. Most looked away, a clear indication of their unwillingness to serve her. Undaunted, the earl chose one. “Margaret. Escort Lady Fiona to her chamber.”
A petite young woman with lovely reddish-blond hair and a smattering of freckles across her nose stepped forward. She nodded, apparently struck mute by the earl’s orders. And who could blame her? Fiona was also having difficulty believing this had come to pass.
“I’ll see ye at the evening meal, Lady Fiona.” A faint smile crossed his mouth, the gleam in his blue eyes setting her pulse to an unsteady beat.
Casting a final glance at the earl, Fiona turned to follow the servant, praying the fear in her breast didn’t show. She could feel him watching her, but she kept her eyes on Margaret’s back.
They climbed a winding flight of steep, stone stairs that led to a narrow hall. As they walked down it, Fiona counted six heavy oak doors, impressed that the castle boasted so many private chambers. She was even more impressed when Margaret revealed they were all for sleeping. Apparently, on the top level there was a large solar, a weaving room, and a chamber where the steward worked on the castle accounts.
Margaret opened a heavy oak door. Curious, Fiona stepped over the threshold. It was a small and simple chamber, with a narrow bed, a single chair, and a table. But a fine pelt of fur covered the bed, a plump cushion rested on the chair seat, and several beeswax candles were on the table.
There was a small window covered with a stiff leather shutter to keep out the chill, though on this summer afternoon it was fastened open to allow in the fresh air. Fiona was pleased to note there was room for a pallet for Alice to sleep on and a small wooden trunk in which to store her clothes.
“This will do very well, Margaret. Thank you.”
The servant flushed, clearly surprised by Fiona’s gracious reaction. “I’ll come and fetch ye when it’s time for the evening meal,” she said. Then, after a hasty curtsy, she departed.
Alone in the chamber, Fiona allowed herself to feel a measure of relief. Blowing out her breath, she walked across the room and gazed out the window. The sweeping vista was breathtaking, with a clear view from all sides, making it impossible for even a small contingent of men to approach the castle without being seen.
We will be safe. And one day, Spencer shall reclaim what was unjustly taken from him.
Fiona smiled. She had done it! Gained access to the earl’s castle without bloodshed, established a place for Spencer, secured the possibility of one day regaining their lands. Despite any lingering misgivings she had over her host, it was still a heady feeling.
She turned away from the window and her gaze landed on the bed. Her triumph quickly faded, and reality sliced through her like a blade.
How would the earl react when he discovered his new mistress had almost no experience as a lover?
Chapter 5
“ ’Tis true, then? Yer going to keep her here as yer mistress?”
Duncan spoke quietly, yet Gavin could not miss the note of doubt in his voice. It was a feeling he shared, though he was not about to reveal that to anyone. He stepped down from the dais and strode across the great hall, Duncan following closely on his heels.
“Lady Fiona’s needs are few. I can easily accommodate them,” Gavin replied.
“I’m not sure the other lairds will see it quite the same way,” Duncan insisted, displaying a frown of disapproval.
“Well, since I willnae be asking their opinions, it willnae matter.”
Duncan shifted uncomfortably. “We need to rally as many good men as we can to fight fer our king. Ye know better than most that it hasn’t been easy convincing our kinsmen to support Robert. Having an English lady and her brat under yer protection willnae help the cause.”
Gavin halted. “Our kinsmen hesitate because they fear if we lose, King Edward will seize their lands, strip them of their titles, and then chop off their heads.”
