Page 46 of Come the Morning

“How close?”

Jillian looked at him, then grasped his meaning, and seemed horrified by all that she was giving away. “Oh, I don’t believe that …”

“Aye?” he said sternly.

“I don’t believe … I … don’t know,” she whispered.

“Thank you for your honesty.”

“Please …”

“Aye?”

“Please don’t hurt her.”

“I don’t intend to hurt her.”

“You’ll not …”

“If she loved this young man, then I am sorry. But I will have my own blood as my family, do you understand?”

Jillian looked at him and nodded. “I will be honest,” she whispered. “I swear, I will tell you the truth when her time comes next.”

He looked at her, and in so doing, was oddly touched. There must be something good in his rebellious bride to be if this woman could love her with such a deep devotion. “I’ll trust in your honesty, sincerity, and the love you bear her,” he said. “And you needn’t fear. I bear her no ill will, I would not hurt her, unless she betrayed me.”

“And then …”

“Then …” he repeated, looking at Jillian. The woman was worried and afraid. But then, someone needed to be. “Why then,” he said lightly, “perhaps, I would beat her black-and-blueand throw her into the sea. Excuse me, I will let you know when you may be with your lady again.”

He left Jillian and hurried along the corridor. He was tired, and he wished he hadn’t left Mellyora MacAdin in his chambers. He’d had no sleep the previous night, but he wasn’t going to sleep with her near now. He was far too fond of living. He’d speak with her and give Angus a respite now, then sleep in Angus’s room while Angus remained on guard. When he woke, he would determine what to do until the wedding. She would be safe enough with Angus watching her—there was no way out of the bolted room from within. The windows in the knights’ quarters were arrow slits, nothing more. Not even the slender Viking’s daughter could escape through them. The only way out was through the bolted door, and Angus would die and destroy half an army before that would happen.

He wondered how far the king’s decision had traveled. Did Eleanora know that he was to be wed to the Lady of Blue Isle?

He was sore and tired. He missed her touch. He wished that she could be with him then, stroking his brow, setting his flesh on fire …

Laird Lion did not return to his chambers.

Mellyora spent hours, pacing endlessly, jumping every few minutes, certain that he had returned. At one point, she tried to exit the room. The bolt was firmly in place. She swore, pacing again. The door opened, and the huge bald man smiled at her. “My lady, is there something you need?”

“Could I possibly return to my own chambers?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“I’m filthy, hungry …”

“We’ll see to your needs.”

“But—”

The door closed. She paced before the fire again. Soon after, she heard a tapping; the door opened. Angus was back, stepping into the room ahead of a small group of kitchen lads who brought with them a tray of food, a handsome hip tub, soap, towels, and endless pails of water. They came and went quickly, leaving the tray on a trunk, and the tub before the fire, steaming with hot water.

“Have I forgotten anything?” Angus asked politely.

“No, you’re quite thorough, but I can’t possibly make myself so completely at home in my Laird Waryk’s chambers,” she said.

“Ah, well, my lady, you shouldn’t hesitate to make all that is Laird Lion’s your own.”

“I have no clean clothing.”