Circle Of Honor Part 5

Eva slapped his hands away. "What do ye think yer doing? Find something more suitable to do with yer hands."

"I have every right . . ." to touch my own wife. He couldn't finish the thought aloud. She is wife in name only.

He would do well to remember it.

He stepped back while Eva examined the woman, their murmured voices mingling. Eva crooned in obvious sympathy and Adam began to relax, knowing that Gwenyth was in capable hands. Sim returned with the medicines and wood; Adam dismissed him and built up the fire.

With the fire satisfactorily producing heat, Adam turned to watch his mother as she bent over the small form on the beda"the better to hear what Gwenyth said. Eva gasped and sat upright, and Adam knew she'd learned of the worst of Gwenyth's injuries, the one that would take longest to heal.

In the voice that would have sent him scurrying when he was a child, Eva said, "Leave the room, Adam. She has wounds I must tend and ye cannot be here."

"I'll stay." At his mother's black stare, Adam conceded, "But I'll turn my back."

Eva's expression clearly indicated displeasure with him. "Yer behavior is most curious, son."

Obviously his mother wanted an explanation. "I need to know the full extent of her injuries, Mother. Tend the girl." When she made no move, he softened his tone. " 'Tis not the first creature I've brought home for you to heal."

"Nay, 'tis not." The corners of her mouth twitched. "But usually they are four-legged and furry. Or feathered."

He smiled. "And I always help you."

"Aye, but this is not the same."

With a guarded glance at the woman on the bed, he said, "Nay, 'tis not. This time the unfortunate one is a woman who has been beaten and raped. A woman who accused me of the crime."

Eva's face went pale. "And you bring her to me to heal?"

"I had little choice since she forced me to marry her."

"Marry?" Eva made the sign of the cross before glaring at the bed's occupant.

Gwenyth's shame and pain glowed in her eyes, and Adam's emotions warred between anger and the need to console. Anger prevailed, and he gestured his mother to the other side of the room. There he recounted how he came to return home with a handfast wife.

GWENYTH WATCHED WITH TREPIDATION as Adam spoke with his mother. The woman had been kind in her questioning and compa.s.sionate in her touch. But Adam's news had obviously distressed her, and Gwenyth worried how Eva would treat her when she returned to finish her ministrations.

If only she could rise from the bed and leave. Leave this place and the man who both comforted and frightened her. Leave her homeland, this accursed country that had brought rack and ruin to her and her family.

And now this final humiliation. Gwenyth turned her anger on the G.o.d she believed had deserted her so completely. She sobbed quietly, for the loss of that source of comfort was more painful than her physical wounds.

As her tears fell, she listened to the rise and fall of voices on the other side of the room. Adam's voice. How it had soothed her earlier today when she'd soaked his shirt with tears. Now as she listened to the cadence of his words, she was once again soothed and her sobs stopped. Since G.o.d had abandoned her, she would cling to the comfort Adam supplied. Gradually the warmth of the room and the medicinal tea Eva had given her lulled her into much needed sleep.

WITH THE TELLING, color returned to his mother's face. Adam glanced to where Gwenyth lay. She'd fallen asleep, and he and Eva moved back to the bedside.

Adam gazed down at Gwenyth, observing her dark lashes fanned against pale skin, and the trace of fresh tears on her cheek. For a moment he allowed himself to think how it might have been if they'd met under more auspicious circ.u.mstances. She was a pretty thing, and he admired her courage.

"She's got spirit," Eva said.

"Aye, she does. If not for that, I'd be dead."

"She'll need courage and more to come to terms with what has been done to her. I'll say a prayer for the la.s.s."

"As will I." Adam rubbed his shoulder, remembering that the people of Buchan were Robert the Bruce's enemies. "I'm grateful to the la.s.s for saving my life, but she's of Buchan. Better than being of Badenoch, but I'm not overfond of either branch of the Comyn clan."

The fight at Greyfriars, then Dalry and Adam's injury at the hands of the Comyns were never far from his mind.

"Surely a maidservant's loyalty lies with whomever she serves, Adam."

"Aye, but she's not a servant any longer; she's my wife."

"And a wife's allegiance lies with her husband."

Adam recalled the maid's pledge. "Let's hope she remembers that. As a precaution I've sent Seamus to see what he can learn from Bryan."

Eva nodded. " 'Tis well to be cautious in such unsettled times." Her foster son, Bryan Mackintosh, served with Robert the Bruce and could be trusted to provide wise counsel.

Adam forced his thoughts back to more pressing matters. "Mother, I will break the news to Da." Anguish at his father's precarious health washed through him. "How is he today?"

"He's stronger than ye give him credit, son. Having ye a.s.sume the duties of laird has prolonged his life." She sighed. "Ye say she's a maidservant?"

"Aye."

"Not exactly what yer da had in mind when he encouraged you to marry."

"Well, the matter is not settleda"'tis why I insisted on a handfast union. And why the union will remain chaste for the foreseeable future."

"For the foreseeable future, she'll not welcome a man's touch, I'd wager. Only G.o.d knows what time will bring. Lay it in his hands, son." Eva gave him an encouraging smile. "You need time to puzzle this through. Talk with your father tomorrow. He's resting, and I'll see no one disturbs him so you may be the one to tell him."

He acknowledged her words with a rueful smile before looking down on the sleeping maid. "You will tend her?"

"Not Nathara?"

"I'm in no mood to explain all this to the healer." He hesitated. "I promised this poor la.s.s sanctuary, Mother. She deserves that much, and I give it willingly."

"As ye wish, my laird." She smiled again, and some of Adam's tension eased.

"I will find the man who did this and make him pay. I'll not harbor such within my domain."

Eva nodded, "By G.o.d's grace, may it be so."

Rubbing his aching shoulder, Adam knew he shouldn't make such promises, not to anyone, not even his wife.

ADAM AWOKE with the first stirrings of the servants. He'd spent a restless night, and yesterday's events remained unresolved in his mind. He pushed aside the bed hangings and climbed down from his bed, pulled on a linen sark, and kilted his plaid about his hips, securing it with a wide leather belt. Pulling the excess material over his shoulder, he pinned it fast with a brooch. As was the habit of any prudent man, even within the safety of his own walls, Adam sheathed a dirk in the top of his stocking and grabbed his short sword before making his way to the kitchen.

The others wouldn't break their fast until after morning ma.s.s, but today Adam would forsake the formal ritual and seek G.o.d's counsel in private. He took some bread and cheese and a flask from the kitchen and ate as he walked the path to the east end of the island, where lay his favorite spot for pondering life's perplexities.

Here the land gradually sloped toward the loch, making this the castle's most vulnerable spot, except that the loch was deepest on this side. A round tower stood guard on this wall, ready to deflect any attack. The tower housed a small, well-fortified gate, which provided access to a fine, sandy beach where he often strolled. But that was not his destination this morn.

Instead he headed for a grove of aspen and poplar trees on this side of the wall. The trees sheltered an area of rock formations whose fanciful shapes had enthralled his imagination as a child.

Steam rose in wavy fingerlets from the warm water of the hot spring nestled among the stones. He found a submerged ledge to lie on. These days Adam sought out the warm water when his shoulder ached from cold or overexertion. Or sometimes, it was his soul that required the soothing feel of the sulfurous liquid.

As the warmth a.s.suaged him, he remembered days in his youth when he'd come here with his cousins. They had not been interested in the restorative properties of the water. A thick twist of worn rope still hung from a branch where he and his foster brother, Bryan, had swung before dropping into the deep end of the pool.

Childhood memories faded, replaced with the cares of a man responsible for the well-being of several hundred souls. Those burdens had grown increasingly heavy these past months, as it became apparent he would never regain his former prowess as a warrior. He would be forever vulnerable, forever uncertain of himself.

Only recently had he begun to come to terms with the legacy of his failures at Dalry. Robert had told him to forgive himself, but in the year and a half since, he hadn't been able to do so. Would he ever be able to?

A twig snapped. Adam moved instinctively to where he'd left his weapons and clothing. Dagger in hand, he crouched at the water's edge, motionless, until a familiar female figure came into view. He laid the dagger back on the sh.o.r.e and moved into waist-deep water.

"h.e.l.lo, Nathara."

"You didn't come to see me when you returned," she pouted prettily.

How am I going to explain Gwenyth's presence to Nathara? Stalling for time, he splashed water on his arms and torso before answering. "I wanted to bathe first."

Nathara began loosening the pins that held her abundant, wavy black hair, letting one coil fall prettily to her shoulders, and then another. Her intent was cleara"Nathara accomplished everything with effect in mind, often using her substantial womanly wiles to pull him closer. And she was still clearly determined to become his wife. Seeking distraction, he began to bathe in earnest as he called to mind his relationship with the clan healer. Nathara's skills had been sorely tried in saving Adam's life. But he had lived and she had even managed to save his arm. It didn't work well, but he hadn't lost it to the knife.

She had stayed by his side constantly until he'd been out of danger. And so it was that Nathara had been with him the day his intended bride had looked upon his withering body with shock and refused to formalize the betrothal.

Having observed his humiliation at Suisan's rejection, Nathara had offered to heal his spirit with her woman's touch. He'd resisted, continued to resist, but she wasn't easily dissuaded. As if to accentuate the point, she now reached for the hem of her dress, and he caught his breath and turned his back as she pulled it over her head.

Although he'd never made any promises to her, he owed Natharaa"she'd healed his body and salvaged his pride. But what she offered was against G.o.d's commandments and Adam's vow.

He heard the splash as she entered the water and walked to him. "Go, Nathara." He gently pushed her away, relieved to see that she'd had the decency to leave her chemise on to cover herself. She thought he was playing and reached for him. But he waded quickly to sh.o.r.e, determined to make the break now.

"Adam, where are you going? Come finish what we started."

"We started nothing, Nathara. There is nothing between us." The words came out more gruffly than he'd intended. He walked toward his discarded clothing and she splashed her way to stand beside him. With a wicked smile, she enticed him. "Stop teasing. We haven't even begun."

He gently removed her hand from his arm. "What we began was friendship, nothing more." He drew a deep breath, bracing himself. "I am handfasted, as of yesterday."

If he hadn't been staring at her face, he would have missed the brief wounding revealed there. Regret pierced him; regret that she had seen more in their friendship than he did.

But Nathara hid her feelings well, and anger replaced hurt in an instant. "Handfasted? With whom, may I ask? And how dare you do such a thing without even discussing it with me first? Do I mean nothing at all to you?"

He pulled on his shirt. "Nathara, I've never promised you anything beyond the day, is that not so?"

Her charms faded fast when her will was contested. Her voice became shrill. "You can put me aside this easily?"

Adam stooped and picked up her gown as he explained. "I owe you much, 'tis true. If you hadn't tended to my wounds . . ." He handed her the dress. "You saved my life, Nathara, and I am truly grateful. I had not thought to marrya""

"Then why did you?" She clasped the gown to her chest but made no move to put it on.

"I had no choice." Briefly Adam described the circ.u.mstances of his marriage to Gwenyth.

Nathara donned her clothes. "You admit the woman was forced on youa"at the end of the year put her aside." She twined her arms about his neck. "I will wait, Adam."

Adam lowered his head, mesmerized by the sultry tone of her voice. He reached for Nathara's hair and stroked it. Saints above, she was so tempting, and so willing. He would need G.o.d's help if he had any hope of fighting this temptation while chastely handfasted to Gwenyth.

He had pledged the protection of his name, and the vows he'd spoken clearly announced he would honor Gwenyth with his word and his body. The words were no less binding for the year and a day than the church-spoken vows of a lifetime.

Resolved to seek out Father Jerard as soon as he returned to the castle, Adam removed Nathara's arms from his neck and backed away. "Nay, Nathara. I am not happy to be bound to Gwenyth against my will, but I will not break my pledge to her, either in thought or in deed."

Nathara's facial features hardened and Adam saw the beginning of animosity and anger. Gone was the seductress and in her place stood a woman accustomed to getting her way. Perhaps he shouldn't have been so forthright with her.

He knew that she wasn't chaste; she made no secret of her conquests. That alone made her inappropriate as a wife. He'd made it clear he wasn't considering marriage with her, and she'd seemed content with what he was willing to give. Until now. The look on her face at the moment gave Adam reason to doubt just how well she was taking this news.

"She is nothing more than a servant, not fit to be wife of the Chattan captain. You want to remain laird, don't you?"

"Aye."

"She'll be no more help than I would. Probably less, since she's from outside the clan."

"Don't concern yourself." Adam was growing tired of the discussion. His time in the healing waters had been far too brief to soothe either his shoulder or his mind, and Nathara had only increased his agitation.

"Nathara, I'm sorry."

"I am, too, Adam. Sorry you feel compelled to honor vows that have no meaning and can bring you nothing but trouble. Sorry that you will not honor the unspoken vows between us."

So, she had hoped their friendship would end in marriage. Adam antic.i.p.ated tears but saw a vengeful woman instead.

Nathara spun on her heel and strode away, leaving him to wonder just what trouble he could expect from her.

He finished dressing, irritated that his dilemma remained unresolved. He returned to the castle, and after a long talk with the priest, sought his mother.

He found her in Gwenyth's chamber. Eva put her finger to her lips, and Adam walked quietly across the room. Looking down at the sleeping woman, he was struck again by her beauty. Her thick auburn braid lay across her shoulder, disappearing beneath the cover. He wanted to touch ita"to feel the texture instead of imagining it.

Stop. He must not look upon her without reminding himself of the lie that had bound them together. And touching was out of the question.

For a moment he considered his conversation with Nathara and his decision to honor the vows with Gwenyth. Surely he held no warmth toward her. But a man whose fighting ability was questionable had only his word to show for his honor.

His word was all he had, and by G.o.d's grace, he would not forfeit it.

SIX.

GWENYTH LAY QUIETLY, aware of Adam's presence by her bed. She could not bear any more of his concern and kept her eyes closed, feigning sleep, until she heard the door close behind him. The shutters had been drawn in the chamber and a single candle burned on the table next to her bed. Adam's mother sat by the large stone fireplace, gazing into the flames.

The serenity of the scene did not penetrate Gwenyth's spirit. Waves of despair washed over her and her teeth chattered despite the fire and the warm bedding. Her body ached all over, but the worst was her heart. What once had felt warm and expectant now felt cold and empty.

Leod had stolen her innocence. Aye, though she would not admit as much to Adam, she knew it was Leod. And because of him she would never invite any man's touch; to do so might unleash such a beast once again.