Authors: Gerri Russell
Rhys brought his sword down, sliding to the hilt. "If I were any better, I'd best you this day."
Orrin easily disengaged. "You wish."
"It is good to see that you have not all been at your leisure while I've been off battling for king and country," Camden called from the far side of the lists.
Rhiannon's heart jumped as she recognized his voice. He and his men walked their horses into the lists.
"Camden," she whispered. His hair was pulled back away from his face, and his chin sported several days' beard growth. His eyes, so normally clear and piercing, were heavily smudged with dark shadows of weariness.
His eyes found hers. Warmth flared. He handed the reins of his horse to a stable boy and proceeded toward her.
She raised a hand to smooth the escaping tendrils of her hair away from her face. Her cheeks flushed when she remembered the last time her hair had been in wild disarray with him. Heat coiled through her belly and between her thighs like silken ribbons, pulling her toward him.
"Did you fare well in battle?" she asked when he stood but a handbreadth away, close enough to touch if she only reached for him. But did she dare be so bold?
"I've returned with all the men. The English have fled."
Relief flooded her at the discovery that he'd been fighting the English and not her family. She reached for his sleeve only to have him turn away. "The castle wall is repaired. I hope that means things were uneventful during my absence."
She pulled her hand back and tucked it in the folds of her gown. Her gaze connected with Orrin's. Surely he would report on what had happened while Camden was away, yet he remained strangely silent.
The humor in Camden's face faded. "Will no one tell me the news?"
"Bishop Berwick came to call," Orrin said.
"Lady Violet used the Stone to heal Rhys," Rhiannon said at the same time. She held her tongue, hoping Orrin would proceed. He did. In a rush, he told Camden what had happened.
Camden stood utterly motionless. Any warmth that she might have imagined in his eyes faded. The morning air fairly crackled with tension.
His gaze shifted to Rhys' once as the story unfolded before it returned to hers. He stared, hard. Only his clenched jaw betrayed the control it took to keep his anger in check. But she could see it, feel it, as though their time apart had heightened her awareness of him.
When Orrin told him about the Stone, his expression became grim, unreadable. "Where is the Stone?" he asked, his voice rough.
She dug the Stone out of her pocket and held the amulet out to him.
"You had the Stone with you?"
"Only to keep it safe while you were gone."
"By allowing Lady Violet to use the Stone you put her in grave danger. Everyone at the castle saw Rhys' healing." Camden's face darkened. "I trusted you with my niece, with," he hesitated before adding, "everything." He stared down at the Stone in his hand.
Pain twisted in Rhiannon's chest. Every decision she'd made while he was gone had been to protect Violet. She'd done everything she could think of to help the little girl. So why was he so angry at her? She straightened her back as a sudden realization struck her. "Are you upset with me or are you upset because you weren't here to protect Lady Violet yourself?"
He flinched at her words and she knew she'd hit upon the truth.
She darted a glance at Orrin. He dropped his gaze, suddenly intent on studying his boots. "When you and Orrin were in the Holy Land the two of you only had each other, I realize that. But your life is different now." She waved a hand at the crowd who had gathered in the lists. "Look around you, at the men and women of this castle who would sacrifice anything to help you battle the bishop and win."
He scowled at her. "I fight my battles alone."
"Then perhaps it's time for you to change." She lifted her chin. "I know a thing or two about trying to change. It's hard, especially when people around you think that it's impossible."
His scowl deepened. "That's unfair."
She shook her head. "No, you're being unfair to me and to everyone in this castle who cares about you."
A flicker of surprise crossed his face. "You care about me?"
If she were honest she would admit her emotions had progressed far beyond caring and into love. She drew a breath to tell him when a prickle of awareness drew her gaze from him to all the castle's residents who hung upon their words. Heat filled her cheeks and the words died on her tongue. "Excuse me, milord." She turned and headed back toward the keep.
Several moments later Rhiannon shut the door of her bedchamber behind her. She leaned against the wood, trying to steady herself. Her breath came in short, sharp bursts not because she'd run through the castle to get to the chamber, but because of the magnitude of what she'd almost revealed.
Her physical response to his presence had been immediate. She'd felt her breasts swell and the heat that had moved through her body in mindless, melting waves. She had wanted to touch him, to greet his return home in a very different sort of way.
She inhaled sharply and clenched her fists at her sides. She wanted to touch him still, even though he'd greeted her with only bitterness and anger.
"Rhiannon."
A shock of desire moved through her.
"Open the door." His voice sounded thick.
"I can't," she whispered, praying her voice wouldn't betray her emotions.
"You can't or you won't?"
Silence followed.
He'd gone. Rhiannon leaned back against the door, grateful that he'd gone, and disappointed all the same.
A moment later he stood in the doorway that separated her room from Violet's. She could see the tension in his body as he slowly moved toward her.
"Camden."
"We need to finish what we started below in the lists."
Chapter Twenty
Rhiannon straightened away from the door. Remorse filled him at the pain in her eyes. He'd hurt her yet again. If anyone was to blame for Violet's use of the Stone, it was he. He'd felt a presence behind him in the chapel the other day. He should have followed his instincts and hidden the Stone someplace else.
And yet he had turned his anger against Rhiannon. He knew she had acted in Violet's best interest, allowing the girl to use the stone one time, then keeping it from her so that she did not endanger herself. It was what he would have done.
Not only had she been right in her actions with Violet, she had put into words something he had been avoiding for three years now. He was no longer a prisoner in the Holy Land. He no longer had to fight his battles alone. Rhiannon had proven her own honesty over and over again. It was time to give a little of that back. He stopped a handsbreadth from her.
High color glowed on her cheeks, and golden hair spilled over her shoulders. Her blue dress concealed her body, but he needed no image to recall the soft and supple curves beneath her garments.
He had tried not to think of her over the past four days, and for the most part he had been successful. Battle tended to take one's focus, all of it. Only when he closed his eyes as the battle died during the night did his willpower fail him. If he had hoped to exorcise her from his blood upon his return, or sought to use the days away from her to regain his perspective, there, too, he had failed miserably.
He was drowning in the scent of her hair, the sight of her, and if she did not stop looking at him that way, he might be tempted to recall even more.
Camden tensed, his whole body fighting his desire to take her in his arms. "I don't want to be alone anymore."
Her amber eyes flared. "You aren't alone."
"I feel…uncertain."
"About?"
"Everything around me is changing."
She cast her eyes downward. "That's not always a bad thing."
"Nay. But it is unsettling. I've never felt like this before. I don't like feeling one moment that I can fly, and the next moment like I want to smash something."
Rhiannon looked up. Confusion lingered in her gaze. "That sounds dreadful."
"It is, but it's not." He groaned. "I'm not good with words. Let me show you what I mean."
A flicker of apprehension crossed her face. "How?"
He brought his fingers up to the delicate curve of her cheek. "Give me from now until dawn to show you."
She smiled tentatively. "Until dawn."
Camden had asked her for one hour to prepare for their evening together. Rhiannon paced the length of her bedchamber, waiting for Camden to come.
She paused at the window to look out at the drifts of snow that dotted the land and rested her head against the cool glass. She waited with her head pressed against the chilled glass for what seemed like hours before a soft knock came on the door. Rhiannon straightened.
The maid, Rosy, peeked her head inside the chamber. "The master asked me to help ye dress. In this." She entered the room carrying a large box that she set on the bed. "Go ahead, open it."
Rhiannon found herself drawn to the box until she stood beside it. Possessed by a force outside herself, she smoothed her fingers over the edge of the large box. With a sudden rush of joy, she lifted the lid to reveal several yards of frothy fabric in the color of the sky on a clear spring morning.
Carefully, she lifted the edges of the cloth and the fabric took the form of a dress. The fitted bodice came to a V in the front, and a much lower V in the back that flared out from there to flow to the ground in waves of ruffles and lace. Tiny seed pearls were sewn into groupings of threes, dotting the entire dress. The iridescent decorations warmed beneath her touch. It was the most beautiful gown she had ever seen.
"He wants me to wear this?"
The maid nodded. "He had it made for ye after the mishap with Lady Lockhart's gown. Let's put it on. The entire staff is waitin' belowstairs to see ye in yer gown."
"You all want to see me?" she asked, stunned. "Why? Why would your opinion of me shift at all? I have not changed."
"Nay." The maid dropped her gaze to the floor. "But ye showed all of us that ye would willingly put others' safety above yer own. Ye saved Lord Lockhart from an attacker. Ye helped Charlotte survive her childbirth. Ye protected Lady Violet when we were attacked and ye were taken in return. Ye are appreciated." Rosy removed the dress from the box, then draped it across the bed, revealing its full beauty and elegance. "Let me help ye dress."
Rhiannon stared at the dress as her mind reeled from the maid's forthright comments. She would have to agree that the household's behavior toward her had shifted. There were subtle signs: a cautious smile, an offered bowl of pottage at the midday meal, a fresh basin of water near the bed upon awaking, a warm fire in the hearth each night.
At first she'd let those things pass as necessities that Camden had insisted upon. But the kindness had continued while he'd been gone. An extra warm blanket on her bed one night, the lavender soap that had appeared by her washbasin, and most notable of all, no one hissed at her or spat on her as she passed them in the halls. Had they truly started to accept her? Despite who she was?
And if so, what did it all mean for her future? A warm glow flowed through her. "Let's get this dress on. Shall we?" She would find no answers to her questions standing in this room.
In no time at all with Rosy's help, the silken fabric draped across her breasts, her hips, her thighs, fitting her to perfection. The fabric was foreign to her. She had never seen its equal. Had Camden brought it back with him from the Holy Land like so many of the furnishings of his castle?
"Ye look enchantin', milady," Rosy said as she stepped back to admire Rhiannon in the gown.
"I feel enchanted."
"I'll see ye belowstairs with the others." Rosy bobbed a curtsy, then left the chamber.
Rhiannon let her fingers glide through the sea of light blue silk and lace, and a smile came to her lips. The dress wrapped her body in a cocoon of comfort and confidence until a knock sounded on the door and Camden entered.
He took a step into the chamber, then stopped. The intensity of his gaze made her uneasy, causing a tight stricture in her chest. "You look magnificent," he said, his voice thick. A heartbeat later, he continued toward her, taking her hands in his.
"Are you ready?"
He took her arm and guided her from the chamber down the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, the entire staff crowded into the great hall to watch them. Murmurs of excitement floated about the hall.
At the bottom of the stairs, Mistress Faulkner awaited them. She held out a fur cloak to Camden, who took it and placed the heavy warmth about Rhiannon's shoulders before adding a second cloak around his own. "One last thing," he said, accepting a silken band from Mistress Faulkner. "I must place this over your eyes."