Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

A shadow fell over them and she looked up to see Mrs. Ashley standing there, wringing her hands. The woman didn’t glance at her but focused on the man beside her.

“My lord. My son is about the same age as Bryn and I would be happy to give some clothes for him.”

“Yes please. Thank you, Mrs. Ashley.”

She curtsied and headed off to send a footman to her house for them.

“Mama, I’m sleepy.” Bryn spoke into her chest.

Ciara gazed at Lucien. “Can he have a room to sleep in until Faolan returns?” She’d recognized the anger in his own eyes during the attack on her boy.

“Of course. We will put him in the room for you.” Lucien rose and reached out to take him. When Ciara pulled him tighter against her chest, he blinked back the unexpected sting of tears. “I just want to carry him for you, Ciara.” Her name came out a plea. “I only wish to hold him.”

I wish to hold my son was the unspoken statement.

“Bryn.” When her son looked up, she smiled as she brushed a hair out of his face. “This man is going to carry you to a room for a nap. He won’t hurt you. Kosse will be beside you and I will be right there as well.”

“Okay, Mama.” Bryn turned in her arms and reached out to the man whom he didn’t know was his father, without fear. Lucien smiled at him.

As they walked, she noticed Bryn had laid his head on Lucien’s shoulder and had fallen asleep.

Ciara pulled back the blankets and motioned for Lucien to lay him down. As she undressed her son, she looked over at Lucien who watched every movement she made.

“Would you like to do this?”

Lucien flashed a grateful look in her direction then stepped forward and finished undressing him. He made sure to cover him up with the blankets. Kosse jumped up on the bed and placed himself between Bryn and the door. Lucien stroked his son’s soft cheek before he stepped back.

“It kinda gets you right in the chest, doesn’t it.” Ciara made it a statement.

He nodded. “I don’t understand why…”

“Why your own father was the way he was? I don’t know either.” Ciara sat on the chaise, patted the spot next to her and waited for him to sit down. She leaned on him to soak up his quiet strength. “I am guessing maybe he was just scared. But isn’t how you were raised the way most of your class does it?”

“Yes. Ciara. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect him today.” The self-loathing in his tone ripped her apart. She had no doubt that this man protected people, she knew it.

“What’s done is done. If they had busted the skin, I would have killed them all. He will be shaken up but, overall, he will be fine. I trust that you will take care of it from here.”

“Then why are you leaving? Stay.”

“I don’t belong here. No matter how mean your father is, he was right about one thing. I don’t belong here. I have some business to complete and then we will be going home.”

He pulled her onto his lap and slid back until he was in the corner of the chaise with her cuddled up to him. “Where are you staying? You are welcome to stay here.”

“No. Don’t make this any harder than it is.” A low growl from Kosse came just before a muted knock.

“Enter.” It was Mrs. Ashley. She set the clothes on a chair and smiled as she saw them, looking quite cozy.

They must have dozed off as well, for they both started when another knock came. It was Devonna. It was time for dinner and Faolan had returned.

“Stay for the evening meal, at least?”

“Sorry, Wolf. We have to go.”

Lucien sent his sister to have someone ready their mounts. Ciara roused Bryn and dressed him in the borrowed clothes. When he went into the side room to use the chamber pot, Lucien grabbed Ciara around the waist and pulled her up against him.

“Don’t do this. Stay.”

His mouth was inches from hers when she heard her son come back into the room. He pressed a quick kiss on his mouth before she stepped back and took her son’s hand and left the room.

Lucien followed her down the stairs when he heard a commotion outside. Weeks opened the door to admit his stepbrother. He was followed by Christie Smyth, his current mistress. A small and petite woman, she had golden hair and a peaches-and-cream complexion. She was also a vindictive woman.

“Saint,” she cooed as she floated across the floor to wait for him by the stairs. “How wonderful to see you. I miss you so when we are apart. Your brother was kind enough to invite me out.” She leaned against him as she offered him a view of her bosom that appeared to be in danger of falling out of her dress.

She gasped and clung to him when she saw Faolan and Kosse as they walked across the floor. “What are they?”

“Come, Christie, they won’t hurt you. You stay here. I have to see my guests out.”

With a gaze that was all too personal and knowing, she simpered as she fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Take your time with that person, I can wait. I will have you all night.” Then she stepped back like she would get dirty by being too close to Ciara or her animals.

By the time he had pried himself away from Christie, Ciara and Bryn were already at the bottom of the steps by their horses. As he stepped outside, he noticed a horse flying up the drive. Lather flew from the animal and as the horse slammed to a halt a man jumped off.

Bryn ran at the man who picked him up and hugged him with a familiarity that had Lucien narrowing his eyes. A footman claimed his horse and walked him around. The man’s gaze lit upon Ciara and he set Bryn down, saying something that the boy understood, because he climbed up on his horse and waited for them both.

The man was tall. As tall as Lucien. He was leaner but no doubt just as strong, maybe stronger. He moved with a natural grace that reminded Lucien of a wild animal. Reminded him of Ciara’s easy movements. He had sandy-brown hair and gray eyes. Handsome. Very much so, even with the scar on his face. Lucien’s eyes narrowed to slits as he watched their interaction.

“Are ye all right, lass?” The stranger’s question was asked with a rich brogue.

“Aye. We are.”

He opened his arms and she walked into them with no hesitation, her own arms curling around his waist to return the embrace. Lucien saw red as the man’s arms closed around her. “Who are you?” he snapped as he approached the couple.

“That is not really any of your business, lad. Who are you to let harm come to this woman and her son?” The man was tense and more than ready to battle.

“Conar. Let it go. Let us take our leave.” Her voice rang with exhaustion.

“As you wish, lass.” The man named Conar released her and lifted her onto her horse in a way that spoke of familiarity as Lucien trembled with jealousy.

“Who are you?” he bit out. “She isn’t going anywhere with you.” The tone of one used to being obeyed.

“Aye. She is. She is staying with me. That is all there is to it. The name, if you need it, is McKay.”

“Ciara, get down from that horse. You aren’t going with him.”

“Goodbye, Wolf. Enjoy your horse.” She spoke to the man beside her in a language they both understood, while he sprang onto his horse and they trotted off down the road. The only one who looked back was Bryn, who waved. At whom, Lucien couldn’t be sure.

Lucien shut himself in his study and began to drink. He stared at the wolf carving that sat on his desk. As he ran his fingers over it, he swore to himself. He heard the door open and, without looking up, snapped at the intruder. “Get out.”

“Saint?”

It was his sister. He couldn’t snap at her.

“What, Devonna?”

“I was wondering if we could have the wedding here and I could invite Ciara and Bryn. I would like her to stand up with me.”

“Whatever you want. If she agrees that is fine.” He waved her away.