and weapons into the yard and keep.
After her humiliation this morning and Sebastien’s departure, she felt safer staying in her chambers in the north tower. She could observe all who came and went, but did not have to face them. Knowing it was simply a temporary reprieve, she took what it offered her.
“My lady?” Margaret’s worried voice accompanied the knock on her door. “My lady, he…”
“I cannot hear you, Margaret.” Not hearing her words clearly, Lara walked to the door and tugged on it. Expecting to find her maid, instead she faced the armor-covered chest of her new husband.
“She is warning you that I am on my way here.”
Blunt, if nothing else, he stood before her, helm under his arm, much like the first time she’d looked upon his face. Could it have been just a day ago? Margaret stood a little distance away, worry etched on her features. Lara stepped back and opened the door. Better to meet the devil head-on, if you had to meet him.
“Come in, sir.”
The frown he gifted her with was worth the effort it took to gather her pride around her. After handing his helmet to one of the guards, he walked into the room and turned to face her, uncertainty in his eyes. Examining her from head to toe and back again, his gaze grew intense as it moved over her. When he was finished, he nodded and stood, arms crossed and chin raised.
“You look…well,” he said in a quiet voice.
Lara closed the door and walked over to the window. Facing him, she nodded. “Considering that in the last day my family has been destroyed and taken prisoner, I have been married against my will, taken against my will and now shunned by my own father for it, I am well, sir.”
She did not even try to mask the cynicism and sarcasm in her tone. Actually, when she thought on it, she had described quite accurately the events that had changed her life. Meeting his dark expression, she guessed that he did not agree. Once more his reaction surprised her.
“I would disagree with your interpretation of the events, my lady. Your family is alive—your brother and sister and yourself—here in your own home, and your father alive in his chosen exile in England. You chose marriage, and sealed the choice in this bed.” Sebastien paused and laid his hand on the bed next to them, sliding it over the woolen blankets that covered the place where he had taken her virtue. His frown deepened as though he thought on his words. “And repudiation by a man willing to bargain his own children away for his life and his freedom is not something to be mourned.”
Was he trying to soothe her ravaged feelings? It seemed to her that he was. Searching his eyes for the truth, she saw only honesty there. She opened her mouth to retort, but realized that his words spoke of her siblings. “They stay here?” she asked, offering a prayer to the Almighty that it was true.
“The king has agreed to allow Malcolm and Catriona to remain here in my custody.”
Lara felt tears fill her eyes at his words. She had not heard the king’s decision while listening through the wall. She’d become so overwrought at the revelation that she had surrendered the castle without cause that she’d not stayed to hear the rest. Now that she knew he had counseled his king to leave the children behind, she accepted that she must make some gesture.
“Thank you, sir, for that. I know you petitioned your king and I am grateful.”
She bowed her head in honest gratitude. He could have let the Bruce take the children. Many other men would not choose the side of captured enemies before their sovereign—the risk to their own reputation and safety was too great. But this man had, and had secured their custody.
“Why? Why did you do it?” The question was out before she could decide the wisdom of asking it. And at what cost? She truly wanted to know. Lara raised her eyes now to meet his gaze.
“Too many innocents have died in this fight between kings and countries. I simply did not wish to see your siblings pay the price that another should bear.”
“And now, sir? What is to become of us now?” She clasped her hands before her to stop the shaking. Her fate was in his control. He could put her aside, imprison her, beat her, kill her even, and she had no say in the matter. “What expectations do you have of me and the children?”
“I know that this is difficult for you, lady. One day in charge of this keep and castle, and the next its pris…guest. Many things will change for you in the coming weeks and months, and I cannot give you all the answers you seek. For now,” he said, looking around the room, “I ask that you remain in these chambers unless I accompany you.”
“A prisoner in truth, then?” she asked, using the word that he avoided.
“If it were only my men in control here, I would not restrict you so. But there are others here whose behavior I cannot vouch for. So, until the king moves on, the only way I can ensure your safety and that of your family and servants is to isolate you here. The children, your cousins and other servants have been moved into the chambers on the first level of this tower. The level below this one will serve as your solar, and they may join you there as you wish.”
No mention was made of where he would sleep, and Lara did not ask. Glancing at the bed, she could not bring herself to speak of it. He cleared his throat and gained her attention.
“My obligations to the king will take me from here often. I have appointed a man called Etienne as steward to oversee the running of the estate, and he will act in my name in my absence. He should arrive in a day or two to begin his duties.”
“And Callum? What has become of him?” She steeled herself for the inevitable word of the old man’s death. The new conqueror would surely have executed those he could not trust in the keep, especially if he had placed his own in command.
“He, and the others left behind by your father, are being held…for now. You know there is a matter of trust, Lara. And I cannot trust those who were in charge when I took Dunstaffnage.”
Like a slap across her face, the words stung her. As though he sensed her pain, he reached out to take her hand. Lara pulled away and stepped back. She could read the pity in his eyes now and she would not accept it from him.
“As you wish, sir.”
He moved closer and lifted her chin so she could not look away. “’Tis not as I wish, lady, but it is as it must be.”
He must have delivered the message he wanted her to know, for he dropped his hand and walked to the door. “If there is aught you need or want, tell my squire and he will see to it or come to me. His name is Philippe, and he will report to you anon.”
Sebastien tugged open the door, and she saw only Margaret standing in the corridor. Before he crossed the threshold, he looked back at her and spoke in a voice so low only she could hear it. “Are you…well?”
His voice deepened with the huskiness she’d heard the night before, in his ardent whispers. The sound of it, and the heat in his voice and his gaze, were so strong that she could not mistake his meaning. Since he’d left the chambers last evening, they had not spoken of what had happened between them. Not certain she wished to speak of it now or ever, she simply nodded, feeling a burning flush rise in her cheeks.
“I am well, sir. I will survive.”
“Of that I have no doubt, lady.” Stepping to the door once more, he left the chamber and allowed Margaret entrance. “I will return later.”
With a slight bow, he strode down the stairs. Her maid rushed to her side, but Lara waved her away and told her to see to Malcolm and Catriona. Once she was alone, Lara pondered his words and his actions. He behaved as no one else she had ever met. She could sense an honorable heart within him; indeed, honor seemed to guide his every action. How had such a man come to be a supporter of the Bruce?
As she paced the length and breadth of the room, the true question formed in her mind. The one that had bothered her since the king’s words claimed her a vanquished enemy.
How