Текст книги "In Love with a Warrior"

Автор книги: Kara Griffin

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“Who says you did?”

“You’re here in my arms, naked as am I. What else am I to think?”

“Ah, and ye deem, warrior, that I gave myself to you? You are not my first, for I’ve lain with another.” Her eyes crinkled at the corners with mirth. “Worry not, for I am not a lass to shriek over such matters.”

He didn’t like hearing that. For if she was with a man, he’d hoped he would’ve been the first, and hell, only. She didn’t seem harmed by their encounter and so he brushed it aside. When she bent to retrieve her gown, he noticed the curve of her arse and couldn’t resist giving it an affectionate caress.

Tempting.

She turned and glared at him.

“Would that I could love you again. I’m glad I wasn’t dreaming.” And as the words came forth, his rod hardened and was in the perfect position to enter her.

She gasped and shoved his chest. Emlyn rolled off the cot and stood naked in front of him. James took in as much of her as he could before she pulled the gown over her head. She knelt next to him and her pretty green eyes bore into his.

“Remember your promise. Tell me when and where to meet you for it must be soon.”

“Promise? What promise, lovely?” James couldn’t remember much of anything that had happened last eve, let alone promising her something. He tried to recall, but nothing came to him.

“When we’re to leave. You promised to take me with you.”

“I can’t do that, lass. Do you know what you’re asking?” He noticed he’d marked her and the evidence of what he’d done was clearly discernable on the delicate skin of her neck. James flinched, but couldn’t think straight with his head thumping.

“Aye, I do.” She gazed at him with ire, and bunched up his tartan and threw it at him.

James got off the cot and wrapped it around his waist. “You’re asking me to cause a war. If I take you …” He couldn’t abate the frown that came upon him.

Emlyn threw her fist and stuck him in the eye. She had a powerful punch. He saw stars for a few seconds and it smarted like hell.

“Damn, lass, what’d you do that for?” He rubbed his eye, certain it’d turn blue before he left the tent.

“For breaking your promise. I should’ve known you couldn’t be trusted. You’ve already gone back on your word.”

He shook his head, disbelieving what he was hearing. “Emlyn, I cannot do ask you ask. If I promised you that, then I am sorry for I drank much last eve. I knew not what I said. I had no right to promise you that.”

“If you don’t take me, I am doomed.”

“I’m sorry.” James winced and didn’t like the sound of woe in her tone, but there was nothing to do. His hands were tied so to speak.

She tossed a key on the cot. “If you change your mind, use the key and find the door with the dragon.” Without another word, she stomped irefully from the tent.

James sat back upon the bedding dumbfounded. “It appears I might have caused a war regardless.”

Chapter Nine

Throughout the day, Emlyn couldn’t shake the dread of what she did with James. She had to go through with her plan and when he wanted her, she was willing. After all, her father bid her to do whatever necessary to gain his compliance. And yet, she failed.

He in no way compared to Bevan. When she had coupled with her betrothed, she’d only done so to appease him and he seemed to want to. It mattered not to her at the time, and verily it wasn’t all that bad. In the end, she enjoyed it. Yet the encounter with James was far more thrilling. He knew what he was about and affected her like no other, even in his inebriated state. His touches were akin to fire, his kisses much like being ensconced in warmth, his body, hard and pleasing.

She sighed knowing the consequence of her actions would be her demise. For she wished with all her heart that she had stayed and allowed him to have her again. If she was going to wed Marshall, her days of freedom were limited and the days of her life possibly numbered.

With a light step, she walked along the path toward the back of the keep. Aled walked beside her with Iola on his back. She trekked to the hillside near the back wall. Ahead, she looked at the dragon emblem above the white door. Using the spare key she kept for emergencies, she opened it and went inside.

Aled and Iona moved within and went to their favorite spot, near the old hearth that sat empty for years. It was always cold inside the cavern, and for as much as she’d been there, she had never traveled into its depths.

Emlyn looked fondly about the chamber, for this was where her grandfather had practiced his sorcery. He’d told her unbelievable stories about the most revered sorcerer, Merlin, and the tale of King Arthur. As young lass, the stories captivated her. Her grandfather also told her that the cavern was the home of Ddraig Goch, the red dragon.

As she thought of the dragon, sounds came from deep within the fissure and she peered into the dark depths. She walked close to the mouth of the tunnel that led to it. One day she would be brave enough to venture into it and investigate, but for now, she was content to leave it to her imagination.

A knock came at the door and she startled. Aled growled low, baring his teeth. Hopeful James had changed his mind, she hastened to the door.

Before she opened it, she shushed Aled. “Quiet, Aled. Down.” He did as she bid and settled again on the floor near the hearth, keeping watch on the door. Iona flapped her wings madly until she settled next to him.

“There you are. I looked for you all morn,” Branwyn said, disgruntled, and brushed by her. She hastened inside the chamber and turned to glare at her.

“I, ah, I’m sorry. I was busy.”

Delyth followed Branwyn inside and they sat at the small table they often occupied as young lasses when her grandfather entertained them. Emlyn had brought them to the chamber many times throughout their childhood and even when they’d become older. It was the only place besides the lake, they could hide. None knew her grandfather had given her the key and no one would dare enter his domain, even after he’d died. Their clan considered it sacred ground.

“What happened to you last eve? You left the celebration and I couldn’t find you. I worried.”

“I’m sorry, Bran, but I had to … I should tell you of what my father bespoke.” Emlyn needed to explain, especially to Branwyn, since she was going to be leaving regardless of whether James cooperated with her or not. “My father betrothed me to his enemy, Marshall. I’m to leave soon.”

“Surely you jest. Tell me you do.”

“Oh, Emlyn, I feared something dreadful would come of this. If only Bevan hadn’t …” Delyth’s words trailed off when Branwyn gave her a scowl.

“Aye, and my mother is readying even now for my departure. I don’t have much time before I’m to leave.”

Branwyn moved from her chair and hugged her. “I’m sorry, Emlyn. Are you afraid? I would be. Marshall is known to be brutal. We’ve all heard the stories and after what happened at the last peace-keeping gathering … I will worry so for you.”

She hugged her friend in return. “I would be afeared, except … My father told me not to go to him, to thwart the betrothal, against my mother’s wishes.”

Delyth gasped. “Aye? He coverts war then? I disbelieve he would be so blatant to tell you to do so. Does he not care that we’ll be besieged?”

Emlyn shook her head. “I doubt Marshall will come this far south. The keeps he covets are closer to his lands and farther inland. My father wants to fight his enemy, wants him to come. I would be harmed either way, Delyth. He does not want me in the hands of Marshall and told me to beg one of the Scots to take me away.”

“He did? I vow this is shocking news. Have you found someone to?” Branwyn took her hand, squeezing it tightly. “Is that where you were last eve?”

“Aye. I did find someone and thought … I considered he would do as he promised, but I fear he won’t. He says he won’t cause a war. But we’ll to war regardless so …” She sighed. “I even gave myself to him as my father bid to sway him but he—”

“You what? Verily?” Branwyn pulled her hand away. “I am shocked, nay, distraught. Are you well? Did he harm you? Which Scot was it?”

She pulled her feet onto the chair and hugged her knees. “He didn’t hurt me and it wasn’t … unpleasant. It wasn’t my first time. You see I … with Bevan, before he left on his last mission.” Emlyn couldn’t stand to see the looks on their faces and kept her eyes averted and on the table.

“I want to hear every detail,” Delyth said.

Branwyn rose and walked around the table. “I knew it. I am gladdened he had that time with you before he … Still, you gave yourself to the Scot? You have more courage than I. Which one was it? It wasn’t their leader, was it? I deem he’s handsome, but too stern looking for my liking.”

Emlyn could’ve laughed at their discussion, but resisted because she knew it would upset her friends. “Did you watch the training the other day? It was the Scot who I went against in the last round, the one that—”

Delyth gasped. “Him! Why he’s even more stern looking than their leader. At least his face is hairless.” She giggled.

Branwyn scoffed and flopped back into her chair. “Oh aye, we watched all right. Delyth pointed out which of them she’d take to her bed, as if she’d ever. I deem she pointed to him because of his hairless face. You’re such a sguthan, Delyth, aye, a stupid woman, for you don’t have the courage.”

“Leave her be. Aye, it was he and I vow I never imagined such an encounter. But he is not willing to take me with him as my father bid. I must find another.”

“Such a shame, he won’t comply. He is dreamy.” Branwyn punched her arm. “I can’t believe you slept with him.”

“It doesn’t matter now, because I have to find someone else. I cannot go to Marshall.” The problem with that was Emlyn didn’t want anyone else. She wanted the warrior, James.

“Come, we should return,” Branwyn said, and rose, taking her arm.

“I am not returning. I will stay here until I figure out a way out of this. If anyone asks after me, especially my mother … you didn’t see me.” Emlyn gently released her friend’s grasp.

“Your mother will send a search,” Delyth said.

“Aye and she won’t find me, now will she? I need time to think and I can’t do that with her screeching at me every five minutes about my wardrobe. For who cares what I wear? I vow I shan’t wear it for long if I go to Marshall. Nay, I’ll be well here and will return to the keep when I’m ready to face this.”

Branwyn knelt next to her. “Will you be all right being alone? This place scares me.”

“I shall be well. I promise. Worry not.” Emlyn hugged her dearest friend in gratitude for her concern.

“I will bring you food this eve. We’ll keep your secret. I do hope you’ll think of something, Emlyn, for you must.”

“I will try, but it appears there is no other recourse. Do not worry for me. Promise me?”

They nodded their agreement and Emlyn walked them to the door, and she peeked out before letting them leave. She waved to them and closed the door.

Emlyn looked around the ancient abode and found a few items to burn in the hearth for warmth. She found an old tomb written in a language unknown to her. It belonged to her grandfather. Holding it against her chest, she sighed. How she missed his sound guidance and wished he were there at that moment.

His belongings scattered the cavern, and she found one of his old tartans. She shook it out and set it around her shoulders to ward off the chill. Several bottles held liquid and were labeled, but again she couldn’t understand what had been written. Except for the one container that read: Pair Dadeni water. Emlyn took the satchel that held a few of her weapons and added it to it.

If something happened to her, if she was injured, she’d at least have a way to heal herself. The lake was reputed to be healing and with her impending departure, and unknown future, she just might have need of it.

Aled whined at the door. His cry indicated he wanted out and he scratched the wood.

“Come along, handsome lad. We’ll go and swim a bit before night comes.”

Emlyn chased after her hound, and Iona flapped her wings happily above them. Moments like this brought joy to her heart, for she wished she could always be as free. When she neared the lake, she pulled her sword free, to keep it at her side, should she need it. With so many strangers in the area, many of whom were the Scots soldiers, she ensured her protection.

Aled and Iona played by the water’s edge, and Emlyn decided to cool off. She removed all her garments, but the thin shift she wore under her tunic. She slid into the water and lost track of time. Dusk darkened the surrounding area and stars appeared in the sky. Emlyn lay back and freed her thoughts, for she didn’t want to consider her hefty problems. It was too fine a night to be filled with despair.

Her hound growled and before she stood to see what bothered him, he set off and was attacking something. Emlyn quickly left the water and hastened to him. James lay on the ground with Aled’s teeth on his leg.

“Down. Cease. Be off.” Emlyn grabbed at the scruff of hair at her hound’s neck and Aled released his prey. He whined when she pushed her hound away and she knelt beside James. “I’m sorry, he meant no harm. He was only protecting me.”

“I knew I’d find you here.” James rubbed his leg and grinned at her.

“You came.” She hadn’t meant to sound astounded, but her words rushed forth.

James sat up and leaned toward her. “I had to. I am remorseful for what happened last eve, though I am certain I enjoyed it. Did I?”

Emlyn laughed. “If you have to ask … I would say you did not. You have nothing to be remorseful for, James.”

He lowered his gaze. “I’ve never acted so foolhardy afore and I am sorry. If a babe comes, you’ll tell me? I am not one to be careless of such matters.”

She touched his arm in a soothing gesture. “Do not regret it, for I don’t. If a babe comes, I will tell ye, but worry not.” Emlyn grew morose at the subject of a child, because she’d not thought of that. But she’d deal with that problem when and if she needed to.

“You would not face that alone.” His words softened her heart.

“I am sorry I struck ye. Does your eye hurt?” She looked at the darkened rim under his eye and flinched.

“A wee bit. As much as I want to do as you ask, you know I cannot.”

“What if I told you I have my father’s permission to thwart Marshall? He bid me not to go to him. Would you accept then?”

James shook his head. “You ask me to go against my laird and my king. I cannot do either. I must uphold my duty and I won’t be dissuaded from it regardless of what I want.”

“Will you at least kiss me once before I go?” She leaned close to him, hopeful he’d do as she asked. Emlyn rejoiced when he conceded and his lips crushed against hers. His hands surrounded her and he gently forced her back until she lay next to him. She delighted at the way his body pressed against her and at his forceful nature.

How did he do it? He easily distracted her with the way his mouth moved over hers. Emlyn was caught up in kissing him, so much so, that she hadn’t realized his hands moved beneath her shift. His caresses brought forth an eager moan when his roughened hands cupped her breasts. As much as she wanted him, she couldn’t allow him such liberty when he wouldn’t compromise and do her will. She pulled away.

“You will not concede?”

James’ breath hitched. He scowled and kept a hand fastened on her shoulder. “I would give anything to have you again, lovely, but I am bound by my pledge to protect my laird. Nay I cannot concede.”

Emlyn touched his face and let her fingers trail the hardness of his jaw. She palmed his smooth cheek and nodded. “I deem you have honor about you, but it does not aid me. Farewell, sweet James.”

Before he said another word, Emlyn snatched up her belongings by the rock, whistled for her hound and trotted off.

Chapter Ten

James never felt so wretched in his entire life. When Emlyn walked away from him at the waterfall last eve, she’d taken his heart with her. He’d gone to apologize and even though the lass allowed him to explain, he still felt horrible about the circumstances. He couldn’t concede to her will. Throughout the entire night his guilt gnawed at him. He was torn between duty and honoring her wishes.

The day began with his ire when his laird awoke them early and sent them to their training session near dawn. On the field, he searched for Emlyn, and many of the Iorwerth men hadn’t yet joined in the practices. James continued to meet with Iorwerth’s soldiers, taking his time to ensure his sword methods were spot on.

A rest was called by the chieftain’s son and when James glanced at him, he noticed Emlyn standing next to her brother. She had been on the field. A grin came because he was gladdened to see her even if he was dismayed at the thought that she went against other men with arms.

Grey held a council and was discussing something to which James wasn’t really listening. He kept his gaze on Emlyn and lost sight of her as she moved within a group of soldiers. As soon as the sessions were called again, he tried to find her in the crowd.

Sean walked beside him. “Are you looking for an opponent? For I vow I’ve never seen such a dark look from you, James. How many have ye fought against this day?”

He shook his head and as he hastened his steps, he saw her. She had a sword in hand and combatted against one of her father’s men. The man had to be at least a foot taller than she. Llywelyn stood in the crowd watching her too, and James regarded her father. Who would let their daughter take to arms? His stomach wrenched at seeing her fighting so vigorously. Those within her clan cheered and the fight became intense.

His breath all but ceased when the attacker almost skewered her with his sword. James grew tense watching the fray. Every muscle in his body flinched at her adversary’s attack.

The Iorwerth chieftain shoved a man toward Emlyn and her opponent. She now fought against two warriors. James lost his breath completely as he watched her catch another sword thrown to her by her father. What was wrong with the man? Had he no sense or was he maddened?

Emlyn swung about and met her one opponent and then turned to meet the other. James stood rigid and Sean shoved him forward.

“Come, we need to find our own opponents.”

But James wouldn’t move. “Nay. Look at her, Sean. She’s going to be killed. Her father cares not.” He couldn’t take his eyes from the melee and each time her opponents’ swords met hers, his heart ceased beating.

“What’s wrong with you? Is that not the lad you fought with?” Sean stepped next to him and watched the fray with him.

“Nay, she’s no lad. ‘Tis my lass, the lass I was with the night of the celebration. She’s brave, I’ll give her that.” James winced when one of her combatants battled her sword and the other came at her back. She would be taken down, and he tried to avert his eyes. What he really wanted to do was run into the fray and protect his lady, but he resisted his desire.

“You mean that lad is the one we found in your bed?” Sean’s voice rose to astonishment and when James didn’t answer he shouted an explanative.

James finally nodded and found his breath again when she was able to defeat the man coming at her back. She backed and lowered her sword, and turned to her father.

“Enough. I cannot continue,” she said, her chest rising from her exertion. Her lovely face appeared dejected.

James wanted to thrash her father, for he nodded firmly and turned to walk away. He’d never seen a lass appear so crestfallen. Emlyn strode away with her gaze at the ground, and he lost her in the crowd.

The leader of the field called an end to the practice for the day, and James walked beside Sean silently furious for what he’d just witnessed. They reached the encampment, and he tossed his sword near his cot, and took out an arrow, to set about whittling it. He needed something to calm himself, and joined his friends for their evening fare. Around the fire, he sat with his comrades, content with his chore which kept his thoughts at bay.

“I’m to attend another meeting with Llywelyn this eve. He’s to give me his decision. James, I would that …” Grey gave him an inquisitive gaze, but turned and motioned to Duff. “Duff, I’ll need you to come with me.”

James sat by the fire, and had finished off his arrow. He used a stick to jab at the frail glowing logs. He was gladdened he didn’t have to go because he didn’t wish to be in Emlyn’s father’s company when he gave his approval. Especially after what he’d done and given what he’d witnessed this day. The man treatment of his daughter affected him, and James wished he could retaliate in her honor.

James tried not to think about the previous night and the kiss they’d shared. He was beset with tension, sexual, and otherwise. At that moment, he wished to shrivel away. For one thing, he couldn’t believe he’d taken the lass to his bed—actually she’d come to his bed. For another, he promised her something he verily couldn’t concede to. He would not be the cause of a war no matter what the lass asked of him.

And yet his gut sat like a boulder inside him, for he didn’t want to have to take her to Marshall. He was in a complete conundrum. With all that, his head still hurt from the drink and he couldn’t eat a thing. He was in a mood, one not likened by his comrades.

“Look at him. Such a sorrowful sight. He deserved that punch. Does your wee eye still hurt, laddie?” Colm asked, teasingly.

He growled under his breath, and had taken their jests all day. “Aye it hurts like hell and deservedly so.”

“Never seen an eye swell akin to that. You might want to put something on it.” Kenneth dunked a cloth in a bucket of water that Angus had delivered a short while ago. “Here, use this,” he said, and tossed it to him.

James tossed it back with as much force. “It doesn’t hurt that much. It’s starting to feel better.”

Sean lay on his side and tossed a rock at the fire pit. “James, you know you can’t have her? I mean, she’s the very lass we’re to take to Iorwerth’s enemy. When I realized who she was I could’ve punched you myself.”

“Och, I realize that,” he said with as much indignation as he felt.

Kenneth set a hand on his shoulder. “How could you? This is unlike you, James. Of all of us, you are the most gallant.”

He scoffed for that was not what he wished to be known as. “Not any longer. But she came to me and I didn’t know … I was drunk for God’s sake and … Still, it is my fault.” No matter what he said would not change the past, and James would eat crow before he’d blame her.

“Damned right it is,” Sean said.

“I shouldn’t have done what I did, but my head was spinning and I didn’t realize what I was doing. The lass wants me to take her away. I told her I wouldn’t.”

“Is that why she punched you?” Colm asked, laughing.

“Aye. She walloped me good when I rejected her. No matter what the lass wants, I cannot go against Grey and our king. We will do as we’re bid.” Why that bothered him to no end, James couldn’t reason. He didn’t like the sense of being unsettled, nor the fact that he’d hand over the sweet lass to her father’s hated enemy. How he wished he were anywhere else but where he was. He’d even suffer at being a farmer as his father willed. At this very moment, he could be trudging a field, scooping manure or digging peat from a bog.

“You’re astute in that, at least. If Iorwerth agrees to betroth her to Marshall, we’ll have no choice but to take her to him. You won’t interfere, will you, James?” Sean sat cross legged and pitched another rock at the fire.

“Of course not. I know my duty. But I want a promise from all of you …”

“What’s that?” Kenneth asked.

“If I die … I want ye to burn me and cast my ashes to the wind.”

“Why in hell would we do that? Why would you ask that?” Sean glared at him. “You speak nonsense.”

“I just have this feeling. When her father finds out about what I did … Aye, make sure you cast me to a hale northern wind so I can go home,” James said, and rose and entered the tent. Within seconds, he found his sword and hastened his steps. He didn’t wish to discuss the blunder he’d made or his conjecture. With an ireful stride, he went off to find solitude.

James walked in no particular direction, and yet he found himself at the waterfall. The sound of the cascading water soothed him. He took his boots off and put his feet in the water. He didn’t hear someone approach and unsheathed his sword when someone touched his shoulder. When he saw who it was, he relaxed, and retracted his sword.

Sean stood next to him and knelt down. “James, I understand why you’re disturbed.”

“More than you know.”

“If this lass …”

“Emlyn.” Saying her name brought a small smile to James’ lips.

Sean nodded. “If Emlyn means that much to you, then we’ll do what we can to assist. We’ll support whatever decision you make.”

“I don’t know what she means to me. But the thought of taking her to Marshall sits foul in my mouth. We can’t do that to her. She’s asked me to help her, but my hands are tied. Haven’t we always upheld our oath to assist lassies when in need?” James rubbed the back of his neck, as tightness stiffened him. Their discussion led him to be even more agitated.

His friend nodded. “Aye, we have. And I agree. If only the king didn’t command us to aid Iorwerth. Mayhap we should speak of this to Grey. He might know a way out of this.”

James shook his head. “Nay. I don’t want to involve him. This is my problem to figure out and I will not endanger his position with the king. They’ve only somewhat reconciled and I won’t be the cause of their discord.”

“I doubt their reconciliation will last long, for Grey still dislikes being involved in the issues the king bids us. If you really want the lass, James, we’ll help.”

“I’ll consider it.” James scooped water and used his hands to soak his face. The coolness of the water felt good and but his eye stung a little. “We should return. Grey will surely be back soon.”

“We could stall and give you and Emlyn time to hide away.”

“Where would I take her? I know of no place where she would be safe. I will not endanger our clan. It is too dangerous and risky.”

As he put on his boots, the key Emlyn left for him fell from his tunic. He picked it up and studied it. It was golden and embellished with a dragon at the top. The few jewels embedded in the gold gleamed.

Find the door with the dragon.

James wasn’t sure he wanted to see her again. Hell, who was he jesting with? He definitely wanted to be in her presence. Even if he might gaze upon her face, he’d be satisfied. Nay, at this point he wouldn’t be content with just a look. He wanted more, he wanted all of her, and wanted her freely without restriction. He wanted to remember being with her, knowing her touch and response.

Should he go and find the door the key unlocked? What would he do if he found the door? Would she be there? Those questions would likely go unanswered, because he had duties to see to and had to put the lass from his thoughts. That was easier said than done.

“What have you there?” Sean asked.

“Nothing,” he said, and tucked the key back inside his tunic.

James rose and followed Sean back to the encampment. For this night he might have to venture out and find this dragon door, even if only to appease his curiosity.

When they arrived back at the camp, Grey awaited them. The guardsmen sat near the fire with him, and he finished eating his supper. Sean bid Angus to remove their bowls, for the lad was happy to do so and prideful that he’d been asked along on the trek.

James went inside his tent and sat upon the bedding. He wasn’t wont to hear what Grey had to say, and knew that Llywelyn would agree to the betrothal. Then he remembered Emlyn saying her father gave his permission to thwart the betrothal. Why would he do that? As much as the lord liked their fracas, he had to keep his lands safe. Most lords would sacrifice a daughter to keep their lands, and he would be no different. Especially given the danger he’d put her in when he forced two combatants at her.

“James? What are you doing sitting in here alone? I wanted to tell everyone what Llywelyn said. Everyone is awaiting you.” He watched his laird duck and enter the tent.

“I just want to know when we are to leave.”

“I’ll tell you that, when you tell me how you got that black eye. Tell me you got it while training, for I won’t believe you. And I vow if you say you got it from a lass, I might have to beat your arse.” Grey kept his stance, holding on to the pole in the center of the tent.

James found a grin. “Very well. I won’t tell you then.”

“Cosh, you got it from a lass. I knew it!” Grey approached, and he almost put his hands up to defend himself, but instead, his laird sat next to him. “James, there’s something I want to discuss with you … privately.”

He sat back and waited for Grey to continue. “Aye, what is it?”

“When our king bid us to come here, and after I met with Marshall … I, ah, well I was disturbed by our task. It does not agree with me to send the lass to her demise, for that’s what we’d be doing.”

“What are you saying, Laird?” James leaned forward, using his knees as a rest for his elbows.

“I just came from Llywelyn and I got the feeling he’d rather not agree to the betrothal and yet he did. His wife was in the hall and kept glaring at him. When he spoke about it, I got the sense that he was against it.”

James perked up. “If he’s against it, then why’d he agree?”

Grey hunched his shoulders. “I know not, but I would wager if the lass never showed up at Marshall’s keep, Llywelyn wouldn’t be too upset by it. I was hoping … Well, if you’re not involved with anyone that you would take the lass and hide her. Sean said there was someone at his keep that you were involved with.”

“Nay, I’m not involved with anyone at his keep or anyone for that matter.” A frown wrinkled his brows and he firmed his jaw. Hell, he’d had a brief encounter with Emlyn, and he’d just lied to his laird. He was involved as much as he couldn’t get the lass from his mind, no matter how hard he tried. He was more than involved, for he deemed he might even be besotted. If only Grey knew of what he asked. But this was exactly what James had hoped for. “Do you realize what you’re asking? If I do this, Laird, we’ll be causing a war.”