Claire Delacroix (30 page)

She lifted a finger and I heard a bird’s cry. “The name of Inverfyre will again be associated with the finest falcons in Christendom.”

“But the birds are barren at Inverfyre.”

“Then we shall hunt further afield.” She smiled, her manner cool. “I have retrieved the
Titulus
, I have conceived the seventh son and he will be born legitimately to the Laird of Inverfyre. I have done all that is mortally possible to ensure success, and now can only have faith that divine favor will follow.”

My mouth opened and closed, as if I were a fish hauled from the river and cast upon the shore.

A serene Evangeline pivoted and turned to her bed, pulling down the linens and plumping the pillows. “I would appreciate if you would leave me that I might be well rested for my nuptials in the morning.”

I strode after her angrily. “Evangeline! Do you not understand? Niall may wish to be laird, but he cannot want you to bear another man’s son, especially as that son will usurp him as laird.”

“Not for fifteen or twenty years, Gawain.” Her manner was so mild that I yearned to shake sense into her. “The babe must grow to a man to be fit to rule.”

“But if Niall is ambitious, then he could plan ill for your child…”

Evangeline began to laugh. “Niall? You see threats where there are none. Begone, Gawain. Save your fretting for some soul in need of it.”

I seized her elbow and fairly did give her a shake. “You are in need of my aid, for you refuse to see the threat to you and our child!” I growled, so annoyed was I by her calm smile. “I should steal you away from this place!”

She lifted a dark brow but spoke with fervor. “And I would despise you for it.”

I shoved my hand through my hair, knowing she was right, and paced the chamber’s width.

Evangeline folded her arms across her chest as she regarded me. “Gawain, your part in this is over. There is no need for you to pretend that you care about my fate, or that you have concern for the child you sired. There is no need for you to try to save me from my nuptials in some misguided bout of gallantry. You are free to go.” She yawned elaborately. “Indeed, I wish you would do so that I might sleep before the morrow.”

This was not how I had expected matters to proceed. Indeed, I glowered at her. “You cannot imagine that there is no darkness in a man’s heart, simply because you have not witnessed it.”

“I clearly have no need to imagine anything at all, for you have imagined enough for both of us.”

I took a shaking breath, hating her bemused smile for it hinted at indulgence undeserved. “You cannot forget that Fergus’ murderer is still unnamed and likely still in these halls. How can you abide here without knowing who killed your spouse?”

“But I do know who killed him. Alasdair clearly thought that he could claim the lairdship easily, and he truly would be one that Fergus would never suspect of malice. Niall will drive Fergus’ kin from the gates as soon as he is made laird, upon this we have already agreed, and that will be the end of the matter.”

Evangeline patted my cheek in a most infuriatingly maternal way. “Go to Sicily, Gawain. Have a pomegranate in memory of our nights together. I shall go to sleep, the better to dream of my nuptial mass on the morrow.”

She turned her back to me and began to untie the laces of her robe, as if I were an old woman who posed no threat to her desired chastity on this night.

It was intolerable to be dismissed in this way, especially after all that had passed between us.

I could not leave the matter be.

* * *

XVI

“Do you love Niall? Is that why you embrace this folly?” I regretted uttering the question as soon as the words passed my lips, just as I knew I wanted to know her answer.

Evangeline spun to face me, her eyes wide. “Why?”

I shrugged with an indifference I did not feel. “I thought ladies wed once for duty and thence for love, that was all.”

That sobered her so promptly that I felt a knave. “Then, I shall wed twice for duty,” she said with a tired resolve. “Inverfyre’s succession must be assured.”

“How noble of you.”

Evangeline sobered as she studied me. She marched across the chamber then and seized my hand, fairly hauling me to the window. “Look over these hills,” she commanded, encompassing their shadowed sweep with a gesture. I could barely take in the view, so deluged was I by the scent of her, so betrayed was my intent by my desire for her.

“Look at Inverfyre. How can you not love the curve of these verdant hills, the touch of the mist upon them, the sparkle of the streams? How can your heart be untouched by its beauty?”

I stared out the window into the moonlit night and let myself be lulled by the music of the lady’s voice.

“I love this land, love it with every fiber of my being. Its contradictions are a part of me, indeed, I am not convinced I could survive elsewhere. I know the sounds of the forest, I know the calls of the falcons when they hunt and when they return to feed. I know which bubbling streams which carry the blessings of the fey, which glades are enchanted.

“This was my mother’s chamber when I was a child, and I grew up with this view before me. I grew up knowing how Magnus Armstrong had come from the south and chosen this site for his abode, how he had wrought a keep from naught and built a fortune from the bounty he found in the land he claimed. I grew up understanding my lineage, my birthright and my responsibility. I grew up certain of who I was, why I had been born, what I must do before I die.”

I watched her, noting her passion, aware that I had never had such a sure sense of my place.

Indeed, I felt a measure of envy.

Evangeline spread her hands as she talked, her love of Inverfyre weighting every word. “I learned as a toddler how Magnus brought law to these lands, how he offered justice and protection to the people living here and how they welcomed his suzerainty. They are of me, as well, every one of them, however humble. I learned my duty to these people, these stalwart souls who show such kindness to strangers even when they themselves are beset.”

She turned slightly to look up at me, raising a fist to her heart. “There is goodness here, Gawain, goodness that needs protection to survive, goodness that I dare not permit be ground beneath the heel of misfortune.”

Tears came to her eyes. “I am the last of my lineage, Though there have been times that I resented the burden of my obligation to Inverfyre, I cannot imagine forsaking it.” Her voice turned husky. “Can you not see? I would rather die fulfilling my destiny than flee for my own safety. I would be ashamed to admit my own name if I showed such cowardice. That would be no life for the last descendant of Magnus Armstrong.”

She held my gaze for a long moment. I not only saw the depth of her conviction but loved her for it.

Yes, I loved this woman. I loved the myriad hues of blue in her eyes, I loved the passion that oft lit her features. I loved the vigor of her convictions and the magnitude of her compassion. I loved the fire that drove her deeds. I loved how she met me touch for touch abed, how she stepped back from no foe, how she was prepared to fight for whatsoever she believed. I loved the nobility of character that was hers, a nobility utterly alien to me.

Indeed, Evangeline made me yearn to be a better man. Evangeline awakened a side of me that had slumbered for long years. Yet fast on the heels of the realization of my love came a second realization and one less welcome: I could not stay.

Because of the ilk of woman she was, because I loved her, I would leave Evangeline forever this night. I knew that a man like me could only disappoint her one day. I feared seeing the warmth in her gaze inevitably fade to disappointment. I knew I would break her heart, I knew that the sight of that would break mine.

We were best without each other, Evangeline and I, and the sooner we parted the easier that parting would be.

It would be most merciful to never tell her what was in my heart.

* * *

Evangeline, unaware of my thoughts, leaned closer, her eyes bright. “Have you never loved anything so much, Gawain, that you would sacrifice yourself to ensure its survival?”

A lump rose in my throat for she knew not what she asked of me. I shook my head all the same and spoke with a levity I did not feel. “The very opposite, in fact. As you recall, I easily sacrificed Michel when the choice was his life or mine.”

Evangeline studied me with such intensity that I feared what she might discern. She took a step closer, then raised her hand to lay her fingertips upon my cheek. She spoke with quiet fervor. “But if you were there again, in that very place in this moment, would you still make the same choice?”

I knew the answer she wanted of me. Indeed, I felt as if my very mettle was being measured by this woman. The word she desired rose to my lips, but I dared not utter it, I dared not encourage her to hope that I was what I could never be.

Breaking my pledge of honesty was the lesser crime.

I jerked away from her. “People do not change, Evangeline. It is only in the tales of the bards that love brings enlightenment and change. Indeed, admiration bestowed is not always returned, as they would maintain, though a scoundrel might cultivate the appearance of reciprocity.” I smiled at her, coyly.

Evangeline blinked quickly and looked away, stung.

I was not done. “Indeed, love oft blinds the thinking person from her own folly.”

She spared me a glance but said nothing.

“What you do here is folly, perhaps wrought of love for Niall, perhaps wrought of love for your father’s aims.”

“My father….” she began hotly, but I granted her no chance to continue.

“How do you imagine that you shall rebuild this land and undo years of neglect? You will have no tithes from starving peasants and no taxes in kind from untilled fields. There may be no eyasses, even further afield. It is a fool’s errand you accept here, Evangeline, and one doomed to failure.”

Her lips set stubbornly, but I persisted.

“I warn you because I know how it is to be cheated of reward for loyalty to one’s sire. My own father profited heartily from my skills for years untold, and always he pledged to leave his wealth to me.”

A flicker of interest lit her eyes. “But he did not?”

“My father lied to me. I returned a dozen times to Ravensmuir after his death, hoping to find the
Titulus
, the minimum due that he owed to me. I was certain he had hidden it in some corner known only to the two of us, that he had secured it for me, that he had kept his pledge.”

She bit her lip. “You never found it.”

I shook my head. “He left all to my brother Merlyn, my brother from whom he was estranged, my brother who murdered my father.”

Evangeline inhaled sharply. She stepped forward and laid a hand upon my arm. “Then how did you come to have the
Titulus
? How did you gain your inheritance?”

I held her gaze, knowing my own was hard. “I stole back what was rightfully mine own.”

A grudging smile touched the lady’s lips and her grip tightened on my arm. “Just as I stole it from you.”

I could not fully halt my answering smile. I felt that bond betwixt us again, that strange sense of commonality that so beguiled me.

Then Evangeline shook her head. “I am sorry that you were cheated, but your father’s deceit is of no import to me.”

“It is of every import to you!” I argued. “I know all that is needed to know of the old deceiving the young to achieve their own ambitions. I would warn you that you do not consider the matter dispassionately, that you sacrifice yourself to no good end. How much will you surrender to sate your father’s ghost?”

“What would you have me do?” she demanded, flinging out her hands. “Abandon my legacy because your father proved himself a thief to the end?”

“Think of our son!”

“I do think of our son.” She tapped my chest with a fingertip and her voice fell low. “Would he not be as angry with me for denying him his birthright as you are with your sire for denying you your inheritance?”

I turned away, seeing then that she would heed nothing I said. I fumbled with the lace of my purse, then presented her with a token I had retrieved earlier this night, one I knew I could no longer take with me. “Take it,” I said roughly. “You will need it for your ill-fated nuptials on the morrow.”

Evangeline stepped to my side, her fingers brushing mine as she accepted her mother’s crucifix once more. I refused to look at her, so heartsick was I, but she touched her fingertips to my jaw. I turned beneath her touch and found her smiling at me, her eyes filled with tears.

“Thank you,” she said softly, then reached to kiss my cheek.

It was too much to be offered such a chaste kiss when I desired so much more of her. I caught her chin in my hand before I thought better of the impulse, then I kissed her soundly.

Evangeline resisted my touch for the barest moment, but I poured my heart into my embrace. In a trio of heartbeats, she melted against me, her hands sliding around my neck to pull me closer.