“I hope you will grace my court often, Lady Megan, but it is to be hoped that you will learn to control your tongue.”
“I am sorry, your grace. It was very foolish of me.”
Henry nodded and felt solid confirmation that Megan was nothing like Marigold. That blonde creature would never have admitted to a wrong. An instant later he transferred his attention to Bracken. Megan was forgotten.
“I have some lands for you, Bracken of Hawkings Crest. Are you up to the added responsibility?”
“Yes, my liege. I accept them with humble gratitude and the hope of serving you better.”
“Very good. I also have a new title for you and anticipate that you will continue to serve me well as the Duke of Briscoe.”
Bracken’s head bowed. “This humble duke thanks you, my king, and offers his sword to defend your crown as you rule England, the greatest country in all the world.”
“It is good,” Henry’s voice rang out. “Journey home safely now. I will like as not send for you soon.”
Bracken and Megan bowed their way from the room, and a moment later the footman announced their presence into the hall.
“The Duke and Duchess of Briscoe.”
Megan’s hand rested calmly on Bracken’s arm, but she could not for the life of her understand why. Bracken had been made a duke! It was all too fantastic to be real, but the fact that he had not been rebuked caused her no end of relief.
Megan realized then how proud she was of her husband. She had never heard him talk as he had to King Henry. Where had he learned to say all the right things?
The same eyes studied them as before, but this time Megan took little notice. She was too busy working through all that had just occurred. They were back at the rooms before Megan even felt her feet on the floor, and once inside Megan could only turn and stare at her husband. Bracken stared right back, his face solemn.
“Were you surprised?”
“Yes,” he admitted. Indeed, his voice sounded like he was trying to take it in as well.
“I am very pleased for you, Bracken. I thought Henry might banish you from court because of me.”
“Oh, Megan, why did you not tell me of your fear?”
She shrugged. “I thought you would only say ’twas my fault, and that would be true.”
Bracken shook his head. “It was unfortunate, but not that severe. And also keep in mind—Henry does not do things impetuously, Megan. His plans for me were most likely settled long before now. Do not forget that I rode into battle for him over a year ago. He does not forget such things.”
Megan nodded. “Nevertheless, I am pleased for you, Bracken. You will serve well the title of duke.”
“What of yourself, Megan? You are now a duchess.”
Megan shrugged. “It was you I cared about.”
Bracken was very moved by her words. He would have shown what was in his heart, but the situation was not private enough; they could be disturbed at any moment. Unfortunately for Megan, it never occurred to Bracken to just reach out and touch her hand or gently kiss her lips. And just as unfortunately it would take some time for Bracken to understand that this was the very reason she stiffened at his touch.
Megan spent her first Christmas at Hawkings Crest alone. Bracken had been called to Henry in the middle of December. The king, weary to death of losing men, money, and time, sent Bracken and several other lords north. As emissaries of peace, they rode out with a full battalion of men to the Scottish border.
Still just a bride, Megan stayed at home in the country. Many young women in her situation would have gone to their parents’ home, but even though Megan had heard from both her father and mother, she did not feel welcome at Stone Lake Castle for a prolonged stay. Also, the fact that she didn’t know when Bracken would arrive home caused her to stay put.
This did not bother her. She had many things she wished to do in Bracken’s absence, and the castle spent one of its busiest winters with Megan at the helm. Louisa came for a visit, staying for almost a month. While she was there, a group of knights stopped in long enough to deliver a letter to Megan. They had seen Bracken, and although he didn’t know when he would be able to come home, he had wanted them to bring word to Hawkings Crest.
Megan waited until she could find time to go to her room and be alone to read her letter. It was very short, and Megan could see that he’d ordered a scribe to write it, but it nevertheless touched her heart.
Megan,
I am well. Thinking of you. If you are with child, please take care. Will be home soon. Act in wisdom.
Bracken
Although it was short, the letter meant a great deal to her. She was not with child, and for the first time Megan wondered just how disappointing that might be to her husband. Every man wants sons to continue the line, but not every man receives his wish. Her father was a fine example of that. Vincent’s only brother was dead. Megan assumed some distant cousin would take Stone Lake Castle on her father’s death.
Who would inherit Hawkings Crest if there were never a male heir? One of Bracken’s brothers most likely. Megan would like to present Bracken with a child; indeed, she was sure it would make him quite glad. If only it didn’t require… Megan refused to finish the thought.
You are positively wicked, Megan, she told herself. How can you expect Bracken to see you as a godly woman if you act like that? If you can think of nothing better to dwell on, you had best get back to work.
Bracken’s back ached some, but the castle was in sight, and that was all that mattered. A night here at Wyndmere, as a guest of Lord Trygve Osborn, and then tomorrow he could ride for home.
The men had never met before Henry’s call, but they had been together in the north country for over 12 weeks, and there was little they hadn’t shared. Bracken found Tryg, who was ten years older, to be a man of his word, a mighty warrior, and a lover of all that was right. Bracken had come to admire him greatly.
Being to the south now, since they had just reported to Henry in London, and being just a day’s ride from Hawkings Crest, made it difficult to stop over, but Tryg pressed him and Bracken agreed. It would be good to sleep in a bed and sup from a table and trencher.
They rode side by side through the massive gates, their men stretched out behind them. All the keep seemed to cheer over their lord’s arrival. Trygve was the Marquess of Overton, and he had shared with Bracken many times about the loyalty of his servants.
Trygve had also shared about Ann. The men were dismounting in the inner bailey when a woman came running, and Bracken knew it was she. She was tall, slim, and blonde, and in a moment she had thrown her arms around her husband. Trygve swung her around with a great laugh, and when they stopped, he looked down only at her. Bracken watched unashamedly as Ann’s hands tenderly cupped her husband’s face and she reached up on tiptoe to kiss him.
“I missed you so,” she said.
“And I you.”
“I love you, Tryg,” she said, and kissed him again.
Bracken turned away then and did not hear his friend’s reply. He didn’t have to take his imagination far to know that his reception from Megan would be vastly different. She ran Hawkings Crest to perfection, and he knew she would do anything he asked, but she was not an affectionate woman. Indeed, he was finding, quite the opposite.
“Bracken,” Trygve now called to him, his arm still around his wife. “Come, meet my Ann.”
Bracken came forward and was rewarded with her warm smile.
“You have ridden far, Bracken, and I am glad you have taken time to stop before going home.”
“My men and I appreciate your hospitality.”
Ann smiled again. “I will go now and see to your needs.” She smiled at Bracken and then said to her husband, “The children are anxious to see you.”
“We will be right along.” He watched her go and turned back to Bracken with a huge smile. He threw an arm around the younger man’s shoulders and urged him to the house.
“Come, Bra
cken, come and eat. Before you know it the morning will be upon you, and you can go home to Megan.” Out of pure contentment, Trygve gave a great shout of laughter. “Then it will be your turn to be greeted as I have been.”
Trygve happened to glance at Bracken’s face then, and what he saw stopped him short. It was gone now, but he had very definitely seen a hardness in Bracken’s eyes.
“Did you fight with Megan before you left?”
“No.” Bracken faced him, but his body was a bit stiff.
“What is it then?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do. I said you would be greeted as I was, but that’s not so, is it?”
“You overstep yourself, Tryg,” Bracken warned.
“Nay, Bracken, I do not.” The older man was not easily intimidated. “We have shared nearly all and learned much from each other in these last weeks, but each time we spoke of our families I sensed an emptiness in you. Do you love your wife?”
“Yes,” Bracken answered without hesitation.
“Have you told her?”
Bracken frowned. “I protect her and provide for her. I tell her in a thousand ways every day.”
Trygve shook his head. “’Tis not the same, Bracken. A woman needs to hear.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Bracken disdained. “She is not an affectionate woman; it would change nothing.”
“Bracken, you are wrong. Do you court her? Do you romance her?”
This was the second time someone had advised him to do such. His mother’s words seemed so long ago that he had completely forgotten about them. Still…
“You do not know her—” Bracken began, but Trygve lay hold of his broad shoulders.
“I do not need to know her to know about her. Ann and I knew each other two hours when we became husband and wife. I found her beautiful, so ’twas no difficult thing. I learned later that it was torture for her. For months she froze at my touch.
“Then she began to grow thin and depressed. It took some time, but I finally understood that it’s different for a woman. I began to bring her flowers, hold her hand, and even kiss her without expectations.
“She began to return my embraces, and even conceived, and now, Bracken, I am greeted as you saw. We have been married ten years, yet I still court and romance her. In return, she longs for my presence.”
Bracken stared at the older man. It had never once occurred to him that Megan was responding to his treatment of her. He thought now about the way she hugged his family and even the children who lived at Hawkings Crest. She was certainly affectionate with them. He was doing something wrong—quite possibly everything.
“I do not wish to pry into the most private part of your life, Bracken, but what I have told you is true.”
Bracken finally nodded but didn’t speak. A part of him still wanted to deny all of this and lay the blame at Megan’s feet.
“Come along,” the older man continued. “We will wash and eat, and you can think on what I’ve said. ’Twill be no embarrassment for me should you want to discuss this again.”
Bracken thanked him sincerely and the men walked toward the high, stone edifice. Wyndmere was a fine home, a showplace, but Bracken took little notice. His heart was completely centered on the little redhead awaiting him at Hawkings Crest.
STONE LAKE
“Why, Marigold.” Annora’s voice held surprise at the sight of her oldest daughter but no particular pleasure. She hadn’t been home for months, and even though Annora had worried for her, she had also enjoyed a better relationship with Vincent than she’d ever had in her life.
“Hello, Mother.” Marigold’s voice was very sweet, but for the first time Annora did not respond in kind.
“Where have you been?” Annora wished to know.
Marigold hesitated. Her mother was not happy with her, and this was something new. In truth, she was only home because she needed money, but that wasn’t going to work if Annora was vexed with her. A new tactic was needed.
“Why, Mother, did you not receive my letter?”
“No.” Annora’s voice was cold.
Marigold’s sigh was deep. “No one is dependable these days. I wrote telling you I was spending the winter in France. I hope you weren’t worried.”
“Not overly,” Annora said, suddenly realizing it was the truth. Again this perplexed Marigold.
“Oh, Mother,” she remarked, as though she just had a thought. “You’re not still upset about my missing Megan’s wedding, are you?”
“No, Marigold, I’m not.” This, too, was the truth. “Megan has done well for herself. I am quite proud of her.”
Marigold nearly panicked. Her mother had never in her life had a good word for her younger sister. What in the world had gone on? For the first time Marigold saw that she’d been away too long.
“Whatever do you mean?” she asked, just managing to keep her voice light.
“Oh, hadn’t you heard?” Annora’s voice was triumphant with genuine pleasure. “Bracken’s been made a duke. Your sister is the Duchess of Briscoe.”
Under the guise of adjusting the hem of her gown, Marigold managed to duck her head and turn away. Her face was a mask of rage. She didn’t speak until she had her voice under control.
“Well, now, isn’t that grand! Maybe I should go and visit to extend my apologies and then my congratulations.”
Marigold turned with a smile, and Annora, still wanting to think the best of this selfish child, was swiftly taken in.
“Oh, Marigold, that’s a wonderful idea. I know they would love to have you.”
Marigold nodded serenely before the conversation went to general topics. Annora’s heart was filled with well-being over Marigold’s benevolent attitude. Marigold’s heart was filled with hatred, first for Henry, the man who had increased Bracken’s title, and then for her sister, that redheaded cow who had been lucky enough to land on her feet.
Thirty-One
BRACKEN DID NOT LEAVE WYNDMERE as early as he had expected, so he and his men did not gain Hawkings Crest until sometime after midnight. Bracken bathed and called for Megan in the night, but they did little more than greet each other. Megan wished they could have visited, talked of his trip, and discussed whether he was home for a time, but Bracken fell asleep very swiftly and she returned to her bed.
The hour was late before Megan rose the next morning, but even when she moved silently through Bracken’s chamber she found him fast asleep. Indeed, the day was long spent before he rose, and by that time Megan was out in the keep, going about her chores for the day.
Bracken, a little embarrassed to have to hunt for his wife on his first day back, attempted to find her by casually searching on his own. In truth, this was no difficult task. He loved Hawkings Crest, and a stroll through first the castle and then the keep was a pleasure.
Bracken had not been out ten minutes when he saw that Megan had been busy in his absence. There was a freshness in nearly every room of the castle. The rooms were not only clean, but Bracken spotted new wall hangings and rugs everywhere. He smiled when he thought about what she might have spent, but it did not concern him.
From what he could tell, Megan was nowhere in the castle, so Bracken took himself outside. Here, too, things looked changed for the better. Always neat, there was a new cleanliness to every corner of the inner bailey. But something wasn’t right. Bracken was walking around in an attempt to put his finger on what was different when he saw that the byre was missing.
He shook his head slightly, but his eyes were not playing tricks on him. Bracken was walking slowly toward the location of the old byre when he spotted the new one. Duke and duchess had talked of the need for a new byre, but he never dreamed Megan would have one built on her own. It was a fine structure, both in design and function, but anger was swiftly filling Bracken and dampening his appreciation for the improvements.
Without caring what people thought, Bracken began asking everyone within sight where Lady Megan had gone.
Even at that, it took some time, but he eventually found the way.
“Here, Noleen,” Megan instructed from her place outside the castle walls. “Return to the castle with this basket.”
“Yes, my lady,” the servant girl replied. “Do you need more?”
“No, I think this will do.”
Megan smiled at her, and Noleen moved away. The duchess went back to gathering herbs, leaves, and bark, but a moment later she heard Bracken speak to Arik and turned with a smile. The smile swiftly died as her husband neared; she saw that he was coldly furious.
“I could not find you,” he began. Megan stared at him a moment. He was livid. Megan frowned. She thought they were far beyond this point in their relationship. Nevertheless, her voice was very repentant.
“I’m sorry, Bracken. I told several people where I was, but I see now that I should have stayed until you were awake.”
“It seems that you have been very busy.”
Normally Megan would have smiled at this, but it seemed he was not pleased by her efforts.
“It was a long winter, and I took advantage of your absence to see to some things.”
“Took advantage.’” His anger seemed to be growing. “You have stated that accurately. You wait until I am gone and then order the building of a new byre.”
Thinking he was still tired from his trip, Megan blinked at him and said slowly, “We discussed all of this, Bracken, and made plans to build it just after the new year.”
“I did not want the byre where you placed it.” He was not even trying to be reasonable.
Megan was becoming angry herself. “It’s in the very place we discussed.”
“While I was away I decided it was best to build the new one in the original location.”
“While you were away? Why did you not send word?” Megan demanded.
“Because I didn’t think my wife would go behind my back.”
Megan had never been so hurt in all of her life. He had said the word “wife” in a way that made Megan feel as if she were repulsive to him. And what in the world was this really all about? It was inconceivable to her that he would really be so angry about the byre, but she could think of nothing else.