Moonstone (11 page)

Chapter
Ten

William scooped Rhiannon out of the saddle, turning with her in his arms so that she could look across the cobblestone courtyard of his cousin’s new stone hall. Its shadow was long in the afternoon sun. Tall gray walls boasted walkways with guardsmen in plaids. Towers with glass windows blinked in the sunlight and banners snapped, depicting allegiance to several clans.

Rhiannon looked at William’s face and noticed
a spark in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before. “You are glad to be home?”

“’Tis not my home
.” His brow pinched. William spun her around again. “Nay, my home is much older than this.” He set her to her feet. “Decrepit, really. You will probably beg me to let you live here instead.” He looked over the grounds with pride. “Ronan was a mercenary and acquired no small fortune. I helped lay the cornerstones myself.”

Rhiannon felt
the awe in his voice. “My home is nothing like this.” The modest Tudor buildings seemed insignificant. The reality of how far she was from Hanover was beginning to set in. Right in the pit of her stomach, making her nauseous.

Rhiannon glanced around for Alice
, but couldn’t find her in the busy courtyard. She saw boys leading horses and women with striped arisaids wrapped around them like skirts. Children ran through, laughing.

“
Where is Alice?” Rhiannon asked.

“
Probably seeing that my chamber is prepared for us.”

Rhiannon clutched her stomach. His chamber? “I cann
ot . . . I think I might retch. I don’t belong here. I want to go home now.” She was aware of how ridiculous that sounded. She had no home to return to.

“William
?” A young woman called from across the courtyard. She was wearing a yellow gown edged with green embroidery. A long blonde braid snaked over her shoulder.

“We will talk about this later,” William said, kissing the top of Rhiannon’s head.

Her face warmed. “I do not think I want to.”

“
We were not expecting you,” the blonde woman said in Gaelic, embracing William. She wore a set of brass bells in her hair which tinkled gently as she moved.

“I was not expecting me either.” He smiled.

The woman’s gaze flicked toward Rhiannon, making her wish her arm was not in a sling and that she wore clean clothes. Or at least ones that were not torn.

“Who is your companion?” the woman said, her dark
green eyes sympathetic.

William
took Rhiannon’s hand, urging her up next to him. His expression changed, softened, and he looked into her eyes as if she were his most valuable possession. She understood the sentiment. Her father used to look at her mother like that. But she had no interest in being anyone’s possession.

“This
is the Lady Rhiannon,” he said.

The blonde woman
proceeded in English, cautiously, as if uncertain what language to use. “Well met, my lady. I will introduce myself, since I know we canna count on men to remember such things. I am the Lady Triona.”

“William’s cousin?”

“Aye.” Triona glanced at William, brows arched. “You both look exhausted, why do we not go within. My husband is in the lists, as usual, but I shall send for him.”

They crossed the courtyard and climbed granite steps into the hall,
Rhiannon staying close to William. After months of captivity, followed by weeks in the wilderness, she was unaccustomed to moving freely among people.

They walked t
hrough a foyer, and then passed a wide spiral staircase. Finally, they made their way down half a story into a great hall that was three times the size of her father’s. Rush lights glowed from the walls and candles dripped sheep tallow from wrought iron holders. Fires roared in granite hearths, and a tapestry depicting a stag hunt lined the greater portion of one wall. 

“
I thought the Highlands were poor.”

“Some of us are.” The skin around William’s eyes tightened.

Triona touched Rhiannon’s arm. “I shall have food and drink brought to you.” She turned away to speak with a servant.

William led Rhiannon to a round table by a
hearth and pulled out a padded chair. Rhiannon sank into it.

It was soft. So soft.

William slid out of his sword harness and took the chair next to hers. Hooking a stool with his booted-foot, he dragged it into position and propped his feet on it, crossed at the ankles. He laced his fingers over his flat stomach. “Finally,” he said.

“
Finally what?”

“No more sleeping on the ground. Never liked it.
”

Triona
returned, sitting on Rhiannon’s other side. Rhiannon tucked a windblown lock of hair behind her ear.

“
You have been gone all summer, cousin,” Triona said in Gaelic. “Did you find . . . success?”

“’Tis a long
story, but nay.” William glanced at Rhiannon.

“
How do you define success?” Triona asked.

“I
was referring to the Lowland alliances.” William looked around Rhiannon to glare at Triona.

“I assume
you will tell us about it when Ronan arrives?”

Rhiannon wondered w
hy he didn’t tell Triona now. Did he want to keep their marriage secret? She supposed she hadn’t much reputation left to protect. Did it matter what they thought she was to him?

Her heart sank. It mattered.

“She is lovely,” Triona said, still in Gaelic.

It took him a moment
to respond. Rhiannon’s heart dripped into her stomach while she waited.

“I know
,” he said.

“You challenged the man who beat her
, I presume.”

Rhiannon pretended to study her nails.

“You are as demanding as ever. I will tell you when Ronan arrives.”

“
You walk into my hall with what could easily be the most beautiful woman in all of England, and you expect me to wait for answers?”

Rhiannon looked up. “The most beautiful woman in England?”

Triona blushed. “You speak our tongue?”

“She speaks our tongue,” William said.

“Why did you not tell me?”

“She can speak for herself.”

“My mother was from the Highlands,” Rhiannon said.

“
What was her surname?” Triona asked.

Leave it to a woman to want to cl
assify her. “MacDuffee.”

“
And you never even asked, did you?” Triona clucked her tongue at William. “Men.” She turned toward Rhiannon. “What is your mother’s name?”

“
Analyn.”

Triona
’s brows creased in thought. “We’ll have to ask Laird Drew’s mother. She would know. You must have kin among them.” 

Kin? Nay. They would be strangers to her.
Just like everyone else, save Alice.

“I sha
ll send them a missive.” Triona nodded, then she glanced across the room and stood. “There is my swordsman.”  

Rhiannon followed
Triona’s line of sight to a tall man, about the same age as William. He wore a dark green plaid and had black hair that hung well below his shoulders in waves. Triona went to him, tiny compared to her husband. He practically swallowed her up when he wrapped his huge arms around her. With no reserve, he tipped Triona’s face back, and kissed her.

Rhiannon
’s skin warmed.

“I thought I told you nev
er to show yourself around here,” Laird Ronan boomed in their direction a minute later.

Rhiannon nearly jumped out of her chair
, her heart climbing into her throat. William stood, touching her arm as if to reassure her. Then he met Ronan halfway across the room. The two exchanged manly slaps. Ronan was perhaps a little wider than William, but not by much. They were close to the same height, but somehow Ronan seemed menacing to her.

She looked away
, focusing on her breath in the hopes of not retching all over the table.

“Rhiannon
?” William said from next to her.

“Can I go
to your chamber now?”

He sighed
. She somehow recognized his angst in that one puff of air. “Is that what you want?”

One bed and a door.

“Nay.” She whispered so the others wouldn’t hear. “I want to not be afraid of him.”

“Who?
” He looked over his shoulder. “Ronan? There is nothing to fear.” He brushed her hair behind her shoulder. She felt exposed without it against her battered face. “My cousin keeps him on a tight rein.” William smiled. 

“Can I leave?”

“Dinna leave. Not yet,” he said. Taking her hand, he urged her to her feet. Storm gray eyes searched hers. “No one is going to hurt you.”

Rhiannon looked at Ronan and reminded herself
that he was only a little larger than William. It did not help. He seemed huge. A giant.

The giant smiled
, deep blue eyes far more gentle than she had expected them to be. “Welcome, Lady Rhiannon.” He held out a scarred hand, then hesitated when she didn’t respond. He pulled it back again.

“I
speak Gaelic,” she said, for no reason.

Ronan looked at William. Rhiannon looked at the flat, even pavers on the floor. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Triona slide her arm around her husband’s waist.

“Why don’t we sit?” Triona said. “My maids arrive with the food.”

Rhiannon gratefully took her padded seat,
William holding her hand under the table, her forearm resting on his bare knee.

She
’d come to like his hand. As long as she had that hand within reach, no one would be allowed to hurt her.

A plump maid set a bowl of lamb and onion soup in front of
Rhiannon and she turned her attention to the basin. She always ate with care, worried she might become ill later if she ate too fast, or too much. William let go of her hand and took up the flagon, pouring her a goblet of wine.

“Thank you
.” Rhiannon lifted it to her lips. The dark red wine was rich and it made her tongue tingle. She set it aside and picked up her soup spoon. Her mouth watered, but the first bite made her stomach churn. She decided to take one spoonful, let it settle, then take a sip of wine. She would repeat the procedure until the bowl was almost empty.

“We
are waiting.” It was Triona.

“You are making demands again,” William
said.

“I am not.”

“Aye, you are.” 

Rhiannon
glanced between the two of them, frowning. 

Triona
waved her hand. “Get on with it.”

Rhiannon lifted her cup
and watched William over the rim.

“I ran into some trouble,” he
said. “Maybe we should start at the beginning.” William looked at Rhiannon. She had the impression he was asking for her permission to continue. She nodded. “Rhiannon’s parents were recently killed. She was left in the hands of a guardian.”

Rhiannon
became hyperaware of her broken and disheveled appearance.

“She was to be sold to Geoffrey.”

Triona’s intake of breath made Rhiannon tense.

“Geoffrey always was an idiot,”
Ronan said.

“May he rot,” Rhiannon
whispered.

“Geoffrey’s dead, probably
,” William said. “We didna remain long enough to find out.”

“We left Geoffrey
in the Kirk with my knife in his gut,” Rhiannon said.

“We
will have a new one made for you.” Ronan nodded. Triona poked him with a finger and he rubbed his ribs. “What? She has no weapon. She will need a new one.”

“Later,” Triona
said. She turned to Rhiannon and William. “How did her knife find itself in his gut, and what were you all doing in the Kirk? Because if this tale does not end the way I hope it does, then we are having the two of you take vows posthaste.”

Ronan cleared his throat and bumped his wife with his shoulder. “Give them a chance,” he whispered.

“I have eyes in my head. I see the way the two of them look at each other. You know verra well how easy it is to-” She blushed. “Go on with your story.”

“I was to wed Geoffrey,” Rhiannon
said. “But William bribed my guardian into letting us marry instead. We were going to wed in private, then leave immediately.”

“Geoffrey had us ambushed at the
Kirk.” William’s jaw flexed. “He tried to force Rhiannon to marry him, but she had a knife hidden in a secret pocket in her gown.”