“All will leave but James.”

Grey gave him a regretful gaze before he turned on his heel and left. So much for his laird’s support.

“I would know what you will speak of to this soldier,” his wife said in a demanding tone. She stood behind her husband and didn’t appear to want to leave.

“I will speak to him alone.” Llywelyn sat in his designated chair. He frowned sternly at his wife when she didn’t make a move to leave. “This matter does not concern you. Leave us at once.” The chieftain’s voice gave the command with no option for her to question him.

James continued to stand, and he watched Lady Iorwerth leave the hall with angry steps. He didn’t like this one bit, for the longer he stood there, the more he considered what ramifications he’d bear. Would he be beheaded or hung? At least he’d had a last meal and verily it had been tasty. His thoughts muddled and an urge to laugh at such absurdity came.

“Come, James. Sit, for I have something to discuss with you.”

James released the breath he’d been holding. The chieftain sounded more at ease. He sat in the chair to the right at the head of the table, and kept his gaze serene, with his eyes fastened on the lord’s.

“My lord? I’m not sure what you wish to discuss, but I am at your service.”

“You appear to be a fit soldier and capable. It seems my daughter has chosen well.”

“She told you?” James could’ve cringed at his words, but kept his expression devoid of any reaction.

“Aye, from the first day I met you, I suspected her interest. I saw the way she looked at you when I introduced your leader to my family. And now that I think on it, I recall you watching her as she left the chamber.”

“I should apologize, my lord, but I won’t.” James fisted his hands, readying to defend himself. In a matter of seconds the chieftain’s guard would surely come to collect him.

“So she gave herself to you, aye? I told her to submit and for once the lass listened.” Iorwerth laughed. “James, I want your promise that she will not be given over to Marshall.”

James quailed irefully at his words. He’d commanded Emlyn to be with him? He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but kept his expression from showing his indignation. “You have it. I give you my word, my lord.” James relaxed his hands and realized he hadn’t been brought before the lord for punishment or execution. Emlyn spoke the truth that her father had given her permission to thwart Marshall. He hadn’t believed her.

“I deem you might be the one to tame my sweet daughter, for none have been successful so far.” Llywelyn raised his cup and bowed his head before taking a drink.

“It will be a difficult task, my lord.”

Llywelyn laughed boisterously. “Aye, ye speak the truth in that. I want ye to know that you have my permission to wed her. I set in place now your betrothal. Here,” he said, and placed a heavy-laden sack on the table. “I believe this is enough of a bride price for her hand. Do you accept?”

James stared at Llywelyn and then at the pouch, disbelieving what he was asking. He was no fool. The amount of coin filling the sack was enough to pay a bride price three times over. The question that plagued him more was, was he wanting to wed her? But there was no time to deliberate it.

James slowly nodded. “Aye, my lord, I accept.”

“This night we will have a farewell feast. I would that your laird and his closest guardsmen attend. We will not speak of this betrothal or our agreement. For you must gain my sweet Emlyn’s hand on your own. I wish ye good fortune, young James, for ye shall need it in dealing with my fair Emlyn.” Llywelyn stood.

James rose from his chair. “I deem I’m going to need it too, my lord.”

“Protect her, love her, and bring her joy. And when ye can, forgive her for that eye you’re sporting.” The chieftain chuckled with a raised brow.

“I will do my best to do so, my lord.”

The chieftain slapped him on the back and strolled from the chamber.

James stood there for a few minutes in shock and dismay, for he wasn’t sure he could achieve all that the lord asked of him.

When James vacated the hall, he found Grey awaiting him on the steps of the keep. His laird casually leaned against the stone as if he had nothing better to occupy his time.

“What did he want?”

James imparted the request of the lord and by the time he finished, Grey was laughing his arse off.

“You find humor in this?” he asked irritably. “Here, you have more need of this than I.” He handed the sack of coin over and his laird whistled when his hand waned with the weight.

“It appears we will have a wedding celebration when we return home.” Grey slapped his back and ambled next to him, as they continued back to camp.

James mumbled a blasphemy. “Hell, what have I gotten myself into?”

Chapter Thirteen

“They’re waiting for you.”

Emlyn set the jeweled headpiece in place and turned at her sister’s call. She had never been in her sister’s good graces and she regretted not befriending her more often. Although her sister was only two years younger, they’d never had anything in common with which to discuss. Her sister was more the princess her mother wished for than she. Emlyn approached Suzanna and hugged her close. Already she dreaded the loss of her family and she hadn’t even left yet.

“What are you doing?” Suzanna asked, trying to pull from her embrace.

Emlyn continued to hold her. She petted her sister’s pretty blonde hair and looked into her clear blue yes. Her sister appeared as a princess should—lighthearted, beautiful, and nary any interest in pointy objects.

“I shall miss you, that’s all. I will likely never see you again and I want you to know how much I envy you.”

Suzanna scoffed. “You envy me? Why would you? You always have everyone’s attention. No one pays me any mind. I wish I had your brazenness.”

Emlyn resisted the tears gathering in her eyes. “Suzanna, you are everything a man wants in a wife. I shall never be coveted so.”

She pulled from her hold. “I wish I was as brave as you. You’re going off to wed our enemy and you aren’t even afraid are you?”

“I am. I can hide it better than others.” Emlyn grew somber knowing she was lying to her sister, but such fabrication needed to be done.

“Come. If we don’t join the festivities soon, Mother will send her guard. I heard what she did. Father was wrath when he learned of it. You should’ve seen his face. I don’t deem I’d ever seen him so ireful. If I had found out sooner, I would’ve come to help you.”

“See, you’re much braver than you think.” Emlyn pressed her hands over the green-blue silk of her gown. The garment was bejeweled at the elbows where the fabric slit, and at the bodice, where the golden overly of floral lace lay. Emlyn felt ridiculous wearing it, but she would go through with her plan to shock her mother. The gown widened at the sleeves and the material fanned out as it distended.  She was more comfortable wearing armor.

“You look beautiful. Where did you get that gown?” Suzanna clasped her hand and pulled her from the chamber.

“Branwyn gave it to me, but I never wore it.” She pressed her lips together in remembrance of the day her friend swore she would never have a need for such a gown. Mayhap she would bring joy to Bran for wearing it.

Emlyn reached the bottom of the steps where her parents awaited. They stared at her and appeared to be in a stupor. She hoped they hadn’t already dipped their cups in the wine barrels as they had a habit of doing. It was going to be a long night.

No one spoke.

“Have I a tear?” She glanced down to make certain, but her gown was intact.

“Nay, you look beautiful, sweet, Emlyn.” Her father touched a curl that hung over her shoulder.