“Good day, Lady Emlyn. James is busy.”

“Until later, lovely.” His laird pulled him into the hall, and James noticed Donal’s dark look. “Laird Ross.”

“James. Sit and tell me what the Iorwerth chieftain bespoke. Grey told me some of it, but I am hesitant to believe him.”

James sat next to Grey and began relating what had happened while they were in Wales. By the time he finished the tale, a large trencher of foodstuff was set before him, along with a tankard of ale. The young maid giggled when he thanked her.

Donal remain staid and quiet, and appeared deep in reflection at what he’d told him. James picked from the tray and finished off his ale when Donal spoke.

“It is settled then. You will wed the lass as her father bid, this night. For on the morrow, you will need to be away.”

James couldn’t hold back the scowl that came to him. “Why? You will not offer Emlyn asylum here until this is over?”

Donal pressed his hands against his temples and then through his hair. “I wish with all my heart that I could. But Alexander will be stopping here before he treks off to meet Marshall.” His gaze turned grim, his eyes cast on them with a look of regret. “He and Marshall have an accord. As long as Alexander stays out of Marshall’s way, he shall not bother any of the fiefs or lords of Scotland near England’s border.”

“Cosh, he has Alexander by the noose then,” Grey said.

“Verily, and Alexander will not interfere. If our king finds out she is here …”

James grew morose at this news. “That means he will hand over Emlyn to Marshall if he finds out she is here.”

“Indeed it does.” Donal nodded. “Alexander received a missive from him, thanking him for sending his men, you, in retrieving his betrothed. He invited Alexander to his keep in Schrosberie so they may further their relations.”

Grey muttered a curse. “When do you expect him?”

“In a few days hence, this is why you must leave on the morrow. You will wed the lass this eve and go when the sun rises. But you cannot go to the Gunn keep. Once Marshall learns you have Emlyn that will be the first place he will search.”

James wanted to bang his head on the table to put an end to the troubling thoughts running ramped through it.

“What bothers you? I know you well, James, and I can see you are troubled.”

He scoffed. “Troubled. You have no idea. She hasn’t agreed to wed me, for I haven’t even broached the subject with her. Emlyn will not accept me. She deems she will not be any man’s lass. Won’t Marshall believe Llywelyn didn’t send her? We can just tell him so.”

“That is what Grey will convey when Alexander comes and why you must away with her. There must be a place where you can go until this is over and you can return to Gunn land.”

“There’s only one place I can think of,” Grey said.

James recognized that look on his laird’s face. It was the look he often wore when he was about to interfere. He grew even more morose. James wasn’t going to like hearing what his laird would say.

“You will take her to your father’s farmstead.”

James stood, letting the foulest explanative he knew escape him. “Fucking hell. Nay, absolutely not. I refuse to go there. You know that, Grey. There must be somewhere else I can take her.”

“But you must for it is the only place our king and Marshall would not deem to think of. I’m not asking you to stay there forever, James, just until this passes. I’ll send for you as soon as you’re free to bring the lass back.”

“As long as it is only for a short time,” he conceded. “I will agree.” James had considered going to his father’s farmstead when their mission for the king ended. He supposed a few weeks, possibly a month at the most, wouldn’t kill him.

Chapter Eighteen

Being at the Ross keep was just as bad as being at her own. Emlyn wouldn’t be insolent toward Lady Ross and had put up with her motherly ways throughout the day. She almost felt sorry for Anne and Betany, but they were dutiful daughters unlike her. The gown she’d found stuffed into her satchel was wrinkled and fit poorly. It was the gown her sister Suzanne had given her, the crimson with golden accents. At least it was thin in its woven texture and not as heavy as the gown Branwyn had given her.

She still hadn’t figured out how the gown had gotten into her satchel. Emlyn had only placed the gown Bran had given her in it.

“Lady Emlyn, my husband wishes to see you before we dine. Best hasten for Donal doesn’t like to be kept waiting. He’s in the hall.”

She nodded and set the tray of bread she’d just sliced on the work table. Emlyn stepped outside and noticed the rain had become a drizzle. She hastened her walk to the keep and entered. Upon seeing James, she stopped and looked at him, taking her leisure to caress his body with her eyes. No one noticed her when she’d entered for they were in deep discussion and spoke low.

She couldn’t hear what they were saying and didn’t care. James stood next to his laird, and he leaned against the table peering at a scroll. She watched the way his hand moved to tuck an errant strand of hair behind his hear. The movement was so normal, but when he did it, it caused her breath to cease.

His handsome face remained focused on their conversation. Emlyn sighed, wishing for one brief moment she was alike other ladies and knew the wiles of her sex. But she’d never had any other interest but warfare. A lot of good it served her now when all she wanted was to be noticed.

She released her breath in a drawn-out sigh when he smiled and the creases of his cheeks deepened. If there was ever a perfect man, he’d be it. Too bad her life was destined to a different way of living.

“Emlyn?”

She could never be wife to James. He deserved a woman who would cook, keep him in clean garments, care for his children, and perform the mundane tasks most ladies endured with pride. Emlyn would’ve considered giving herself to such a life for him, but she wouldn’t be selfish. For she could never be prideful doing such for anyone including herself or even James. She had nothing to offer him in ways of husbandry.

Emlyn came out of her reverie when someone touched her shoulder.

“Are you unwell?”

She looked up to find James standing next to her. “Oh aye, I’m well. I’m sorry I didn’t hear you. I was lost in thought.”

“Anything you want to share?” The edges of his beautiful mouth led to a smile that reached his eyes, and melted her heart.

“Nay, it was nothing of import.”

Donal thumped the floorboards with his massive feet and frowned at them. “James, be gone. I wish to speak to Lady Emlyn. Alone.”

James gave her an apologetic look before he and his laird left.

“Come, milady. I don’t bite.”

Emlyn walked hesitantly toward the old lord. His gruff voice brought forth a little bit of fear, but when she gazed into his eyes, she saw a kindness in them. He rivaled her father when it came to austerity though.

“My lord.” She bowed her head.

“Please come, be seated. I’m Donal and you may call me such, if I’m permitted to call you Emlyn.”

“I would like that.”

“I’ve been speaking with James and Grey about your predicament. I have bid James to wed you if you’ll have him.”

A scowl came to her, and she relaxed her eyes, hoping not to anger the old lord. Her heart beat languidly and she didn’t know how to reply. She shook the look of affront from her face, knowing it was rude to look upon him in such a way.

“He tells me you won’t have him. Is this true?” Donal leaned forward, and he spired his fingertips, making a peak of them in front of his face.

“I cannot wed him, nay.”

“Why not, lass? James is one of the most loyal and honorable men I know. Many a lady vies for his attentions, but I deem I’ve never seen him taken with anyone akin to you before. Worry not, for he would make you a fine husband.”