Page 95 of Rebellion's Fire

Christian glanced around her women. Felicia was blushing.

Christian stood and gestured to him to walk with her. They strolled together toward the open hall door.

“We’ve been talking,” Henry began. “The men and I. About your—and Adam mac Malcolm’s—kind offer. Raoul and Gaston are too restless to settle anywhere—true mercenaries—and will head south as soon as they’re released. The rest of us would stay.”

Christian’s spirits rose. She’d been right to work for their acceptance here. “You would need,” she warned, “to swear allegiance to Adam mac Malcolm. With all that implies.”

“I have no other allegiances to worry about,” Henry said simply. He’d given his loyalty to William, but he had no ties, emotional or dutiful, to the King of Scots. Even William’s allegiance to the king had been pragmatic, opportunistic. “We’ll fight for Adam mac Malcolm. But we’d be happier serving as your house guards the rest of the time.”

Touched, Christian said she’d speak to Adam when he returned. Surely it wouldn’t be long now? Findlaech and the men had come home several days ago, laden with booty and animals, which they’d been distributing across Ross on their way home. Tirebeck had some fine new cattle, and a thick purse of trinkets or gold—or both—sat on her table in the bedchamber waiting for Adam. Christian had refused to look at it. She felt uncomfortable enough about the cattle. But Findlaech had been cheerful and full of victorious optimism. Adam mac Malcolm, he’d said, sent his greetings and had gone west with Donald to meet with their Uncle Somerled as planned.

How long would he stay? A couple of nights? A week? Perhaps he’d sail with him to Man and it would be months before he came home.

She shouldn’t care, shouldn’t wait for him, counting the hours, now that she knew he was safe. In truth, she dreaded him coming home, in case she’d been mistaken in his apparent reluctance to leave her, in case she’d read too much into his tenderness. And yet she longed, feeling curiously restless, almost…incomplete.

Oh Adam, what have you done to me?

“There’s one other matter,” Henry said into her reverie. “I ask your permission to marry Felicia.”

Christian, dragged back to the present with a small jolt, blinked, and then smiled with genuine pleasure. “You have it, with all my heart.”

“It need not even deprive you of an attendant,” Henry said eagerly, “if my position is also with you.”

“Felicia should have her own household,” Christian said, musing aloud. She turned and beckoned Felicia, who was gazing anxiously in their direction. Felicia dropped her sewing and hurried toward them so quickly, she almost tripped over her own feet. “We’re discussing where you should live,” Christian said with mock gravity, “when you are married to Henry.”

Felicia’s tense face broke into a huge smile. “Then you’ve agreed? Oh, thank you, lady! It was nothing either of us intended, only his nursing fell on me after the battle and we grew close. But I have no dowry, as you know, and Henry’s position is so insecure…”

“It need not be. We’ll sort things out when my—when Adam mac Malcolm returns.”

It was odd, but she could never quite bring herself to call Adam “my husband.” For so long that term had been used for a man she neither liked nor honored, for whom she’d accepted continual humiliation and insult. Adam was…her lover. Although married, their relationship still seemed to hold all the guilty pleasures of secrecy, perhaps because her growing feelings for him since their first encounter had always been so secret, mostly even from herself. Besides, she had no idea how to marry the duties of a wife with her loyalty to the king. If she didn’t say it, she didn’t have to think about it.

“My…my choice, if you allow it, would be to live in the little house that was yours before…before,” she finished more definitely. “That way, I could be of more help to you.” She hesitated, then drew in her breath. “I’m aware I…we all…have been poor attendants to you.”

“I have been a poor mistress,” Christian said ruefully. “I was used to taking care of myself. I didn’t need attendants. Sir William thought it would add to my consequence.” Or at least to his by implication.

“No,” Felicia said emphatically. “You showed us nothing but kindness. We grew so used to ease that I didn’t even notice until one day Eua asked me what we were for. I would like to be able to answer that. So would Cecily.”

Alys’s name was loud in its absence. But it seemed her influence had waned with William’s death. Alys, Christian thought with another bout of guilt, seemed to be the only person who truly grieved for him. She sat beside Cecily, her pretty head drooping over her sewing, her hands perfectly still.

“We’ll talk more later,” Christian said to the happy couple. Then she raised her voice. “Cecily! Felicia has news to share. Go with her and hear it.”

As Cecily bounced up with alacrity, Christian made her way back to the table where Alys sat alone. She didn’t even look up as Christian sat down.

“It’s time,” Christian said lightly, “for you to make up your mind what you want to do.”

Alys cast her a glance of dislike. “What choice do I have?”

“To stay or go. If you choose to go, it’s possible I can arrange some means or a dowry for you. It will not be much, but it will be better than nothing. If you stay, then you must act as my attendant. I have no place for people who use up food and space and contribute nothing.”

Alys’s eyes flew to her in clear shock. “I’m sewing as you bade me,” she said ungraciously.

“Are you?” Christian said dryly. She didn’t need to look to know the garment was exactly as it had been when they’d first sat down an hour ago. “So, which would you rather do?”

A little frown marred the girl’s perfect brow. “Why wouldyoudo anything at all forme?”

Sometimes, Christian had wondered if Alys really understood what she was doing. But this statement left her in no doubt. She wasn’t sorry for it, but she knew her behavior had wronged the woman she called her lady.

Christian sighed. “We’re not so different, Alys. Women have very little say in their disposal. My husband wronged you, and I bear the responsibility of that.”

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