Authors: Margaret Moore
They'd seemed blissfully happy that morning. "Did you quarrel?"
"God love you, no. It's that bastard Percival. That disgusting, silly gowk. I ought to take my sword and lop off his head. That'd muss his fancy curls. Probably uses tongs, the popinjay."
He must have found out what had happened in the village.
"Please, uncle, don't fuss yourself," she said, hoping to make him calm, too. "As you can see, I'm quite all right. No harm was done."
Her uncle stopped pacing to look at her with furrowed brow and puzzled mien. "Has he threatened you, too?" he demanded.
Now she was as confused as he. "No, he didn't threaten me," she cautiously replied. He'd done more than threaten, but she didn't want Uncle Fergus to attack him.
Uncle Fergus ran his hand through his hair,
dishevelling
it. "After Fredella and I got back from the village, I walked her to her lady's chamber. We found the poor girl so upset, she could hardly speak. That gowk Percival's told Eleanor that they're not to speak to us again. Did that gomeral tell you not to speak to her anymore, too?"
"No, he said nothing of that to me," Riona answered.
"That disgusting bit o' dung also told Eleanor that if she can't get Sir Nicholas to marry her, he'll pack her off to a convent in some desolate spot and leave her there—and he'd do it, too, the bloody great idiot. Can he not see the poor girl hasn't got a chance and all his threats won't make a wee bit of difference?"
Riona didn't share her uncle's opinion about Eleanor's chances. Indeed, the only woman in Dunkeathe who had no chance to marry Sir Nicholas was standing right before him. And if marrying the Norman knight got Eleanor free of her cousin, things could be worse. "Uncle, I don't think Sir Nicholas is going to choose me, but Eleanor may have a chance. If I left Dunkeathe—"
Uncle Fergus stared at her incredulously. "Poor Eleanor may be a sweet lass, but she's no competition for you, Riona. Of course he's going to pick you. He's no fool—not like that oaf Percival." Uncle Fergus shook his head. "No, no, we have to come up with a way to make Percival think twice about sending her away when Sir Nicholas doesn't pick her. Aye, and parting her from Fredella."
Clearly Uncle Fergus was determined to cling to the
notion
that she could win Sir Nicholas's hand in marriage. Rather than persist when he was so upset, she would set aside her own troubles until later.
"Perhaps you should go to Sir Nicholas and tell him about this," she suggested. "As a knight, he's sworn to protect women."
"Aye, that he is, but if I go to Sir Nicholas and that snake gets wind of it, I'm sure he'll take it out on Eleanor somehow once they leave Dunkeathe—and he's got the right to do what he likes with her because he's her guardian, the great daft git!"
"Then what do you think we ought to do?"
" I know what I'd like to do—get him alone in a room, just me and my claimh mhor, " Uncle Fergus declared, swinging an imaginary sword. "I'd fix his hair for him, and more than that, too. I was all for going to the brute at once, but that only made the women cry harder. They seem to think that bastard's somebody I ought to fear." Uncle Fergus snorted with disgust. "As if any Scot in his right mind would be afraid of that dandy!"
"He's probably been well taught how to use a sword and dagger," Riona cautioned. "And he'll be a dirty fighter."
That gave Uncle Fergus pause—a very short one. "Aye, he would be at that—but that's no reason I shouldn't call the bastard
out.
Riona rose and went to her uncle, putting her arm around his shoulder. "Uncle, think how Fredella and Eleanor and I would feel if anything happened to you. And Kenneth and everyone at home."
He cocked his head and gave her a suspicious look. "I'm no coward, Riona. That stinking gomeral might be able to frighten women, but if he thinks he can frighten me— "
"Nobody doubts your bravery, Uncle, or your chivalry. I know you want to help Eleanor, but you can't do that if you're hurt. And if you should kill Percival, the Normans might not understand and there could be a trial and all sorts of trouble. We should think of some other way to protect Eleanor."
Which meant she had to stay in Dunkeathe. She couldn't leave Uncle Fergus here alone, lest a messenger come riding into Glencleith with the news that her uncle had attacked Sir Percival and now was either dead, or imprisoned.
Uncle Fergus sat back down on the bed and patted the place beside him. "So, my wise and clever lass, what do you think we should do?"
"While Eleanor is here, she's safe," Riona said, thinking aloud as she joined him.
"Aye."
"And she'll be safe until Sir Nicholas makes his choice."
"Aye."
"So the problem becomes what to do after Sir Nicholas makes his choice."
As if she'd summoned him, the man himself suddenly strode into the chamber. Riona
swiftly
got to her feet while he studied her as if trying to read her mind.
"You weren't in the hall for the evening meal. Why not?"
With any other man, she might have thought he was concerned about her, but he asked the question so forcefully, he must have taken her absence as a personal insult—more evidence of his vain pride.
So she felt no need to be particularly polite as she answered. "I was here waiting for my uncle."
"You're not.. .You're well?" he asked less brusquely, his shoulders relaxing a very little.
"Obviously."
Sir Nicholas turned his steadfast, dark-eyed gaze onto Uncle Fergus. "And you are well?"
Riona put her hand on Uncle Fergus's arm, hoping he would let her answer. "We were otherwise engaged, my lord. A personal matter. Isn't that so, Uncle?"
Uncle Fergus looked as if he was forcibly restraining himself. "Aye, that's right."
The lord of Dunkeathe slowly crossed his arms and raised a majestic brow. "I have reason to believe there was more to your absence than that."
What exactly had he heard?
"So, you've found out about that bloody great git, then?" Uncle Fergus demanded. "What are you going to do about him?"
"I first need to know
exactly
what he did."
Uncle Fergus's gaze darted from Riona to Nicholas, then his eyes brightened and he started for the door. "I'll let Riona tell you all about it and you two can figure out what's to be done."
He thought they should have a private discussion? That was the last thing she wanted. "Uncle, I don't think—" Riona cried, hurrying after him.
But Uncle Fergus had already left the chamber and closed the door behind him, leaving her alone with Sir Nicholas.
Again.
CHAPTER NINE
RIONA SLOWLY turned around, to find Sir Nicholas staring at her, a frown upon his handsome face.
"What did Sir Percival do?" he asked. "Is it because of him that you weren't in the hall?"
He thought she was afraid to face Percival? "There's only one man in this castle I wish to avoid, and he's standing before me now." She ignored the disgruntled expression that came to Sir Nicholas's face. "Sir Percival has forbidden his niece to speak to us, and her maidservant, too. My uncle is upset about that restriction. That's why he wasn't in the hall tonight."
"Does that also explain your absence?"
"Yes."
Sir Nicholas's eyes narrowed. "Lady Eleanor gave me to understand there was something more amiss between you and her cousin."
Riona
coloured
. Clearly, Percival hadn't hesitated to tell Eleanor, at the very least.
Since Sir Nicholas knew, she couldn't deny it completely, yet because she didn't want Percival to leave and take Eleanor with him, she would make light of Percival's actions. "His advances were certainly not welcome, but his pathetic attempt to kiss me was easily countered."
Sir Nicholas started for the door. "He'll regret that, as will anyone who behaves so in my castle. He'll be gone from Dunkeathe in the morning."
Riona hurried after him and grabbed his arm to make him stop. She wouldn't mind seeing Percival in the stocks, but if he was forced to leave Dunkeathe, who could say what might happen to Eleanor? "Don't!"
Sir Nicholas regarded her with disbelief, and disapproval. "You don't want the lout punished?"
"He won't try it again."
"How can you be so sure?"
"I hurt him."
The knight's eyes flashed. "You hurt him? How?"
"With my knee, my lord. To his groin."
Sir Nicholas seemed only slightly mollified. "Fortunate for you that you knew what to do, but next
time
Percival might accost another who is not so well prepared."
"Then by all means, issue him a warning, my lord," she replied, "but please don't make him, and his cousin, leave Dunkeathe."
Sir Nicholas regarded her stonily. "Why should you care if they stay or go?"
"Because Eleanor's my friend."
"You've met her before?"
"No, but she's my friend all the same." Realizing she was still holding on to him, she let go of his arm and stepped away. "Haven't you ever met someone and become fast friends in a very short time?"
Sir Nicholas's expression softened—only a
little
, but some. "Yes. My steward's brother, Charles. We met when we were young, and after less than a day, we were friends, until he died of a sudden fever." He thought a moment, then nodded. "Very well, my lady, they may stay—but I'll make sure Percival understands that he'd better not make any advances to women, welcome or otherwise, while he's in Dunkeathe."
"Thank you, my lord," she said, expecting him to go. Hoping he would.
Instead, he looked around her bare chamber, where there was nothing except her small wooden chest and a linen sheet and
woollen
blanket on the bed. "Are you planning on leaving Dunkeathe?"
"Not now."
His eyebrows rose
questioningly
, and she immediately regretted answering. Maybe he would think she was staying out of some bizarre hope that she could win his hand, or that she wanted to. "I don't know if you've noticed, but my uncle's developed a fondness for Lady Eleanor's maidservant—"
"I've noticed," he interrupted, coming closer.
What if he tried to kiss her again?
She'd slap his face, and more, if necessary.
"And I can appreciate why he was upset by Percival's restrictions," Sir Nicholas continued. "I'll tell Percival that if he wishes his cousin to stand a chance with me, he had best reconsider those orders."
"You'd do that?" she asked, telling herself she was relieved to hear that Eleanor was still under consideration.
"As I've told you, I have a great respect for the Scots, and any family I marry into should respect them, too." He hesitated a moment before continuing. "I also have a great deal of respect for
you, my lady, and your wisdom. I did as you suggested and provided that maidservant with a small dowry to enable her to marry soon."
"You did?" she asked, surprised and pleased that he'd followed her advice.
"Yes."
He walked toward her, and the look in his eyes made her heart leap and seem to beat anew. In spite of that excitement, she backed away, ordering herself not to give in to the thrilling yearning filling her, goading her to stand still and let him catch her and sweep her into his arms.
"Percival should thank God you were able to defend yourself," he said, his voice low and intimate. "If he'd hurt you, Riona..."
His words trailed off into a silence that seemed filled with promise and anticipation.
Desperately she struggled with the emotions roiling through her. She mustn't want him. She mustn't want to be with him. She was staying to help her uncle, who wanted to help Eleanor, who needed to get away from her cousin. Eleanor required a husband who would protect her. Eleanor needed Nicholas. "I hope you won't hold Percival's
behaviour
against Eleanor. I think any man would be blessed to have her for his wife."
"You aren't.. .jealous?"
"Not at all." Not really. She mustn't be. "She's a very fine young woman, my lord. Pretty and sweet."
"Too young. Too sweet. I like women of fire and spirit, women who know about hardship and struggle."
God help her!
She hit the wall. "Good for you, my lord," she said as he came inexorably closer. "I like men who leave me alone."
"Why didn't you hurt me when I kissed you, Riona?"
She swallowed hard. "Because you caught me unawares."
Liar, liar!
"Can you guess what I want to do now?" he whispered, standing but a few inches in front of her. "What I'm going to do?"
A loud cough sounded in the corridor.
Nicholas immediately stepped back.
She shouldn't be sorry. She should be glad, relieved, happy as she looked past Nicholas to the door and saw Uncle Fergus peering around the door frame, a quizzical look on his curious face. "Did she tell you everything?" he asked.