Chapter 12

12

G emma walked through the meadow toward the castle, her heart heavy with dread. But she had to remind herself that she was doing this for Colin. Well, for her and Colin, really. It was a miracle her mother had let her beyond the house before the two week punishment was finished, but Gemma had crafted a tall tale about how she longed to see Bryce again before the wedding.

It could not have been further from the truth.

As she approached the gate to the keep, she saw Bryce on the upper wall, his tall figure silhouetted against the gray sky. He looked imposing and powerful, and for a moment, Gemma felt a flicker of fear. She knew she was taking a risk by going there, but she had to know the truth. Bryce noticed her right away and broke into a grin. He excused himself from the presence of the other guard with whom he’d been speaking and ran downstairs. They met in the courtyard.

She approached Bryce with a calm fa?ade, hiding her nervousness deep within. She was determined to get answers, no matter what it took. Bryce looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and possessiveness, his eyes lingering on her figure for a moment too long.

“Gemma,” he said, his voice low and deep. “‘Tis braw tae see ye here! I havenae seen ye at the castle in some time.”

He offered her his elbow in the manner of a gentleman, and she took it to seem polite.

“My duties at home have kept me busy. With my father gone yet again, my mother needs all the help she can get as winter approaches.”

“Ye are a good lass, Gemma. Ye’ll be such a wonderful wife,” he said, green eyes glimmering. Her stomach turned at the way he said it, but she forced a simpering smile anyway.

“I wanted tae ask ye some questions, ‘afore the wedding,” she said, making sure her voice was milky sweet.

“Och aye? Not havin’ second thoughts are ye?” He teased. Somehow she suspected there was a small grain of truth in it.

“Just a few things, I promise,” she said. It was neither an affirmation nor a denial.

“Aye, I’m sure ye have questions. How life will be as Lady of the castle. Here, let us talk somewhere private.”

As they walked inside, Gemma was seeing the castle in a new light. It had always been filled with rich tapestries, glittering jewels and fine art. But despite the grandeur, Gemma felt a sense of unease. This was not her home, and she did not belong there. How had she ever thought of this place as a second home growing up?

When they reached a small sitting room, Bryce gestured for Gemma to sit down. She did as he bade, gazing at the room as he poured her a glass of wine.

“I thought I’d seen all the rooms in the castle,” she said in wonderment, looking at the colorful tapestries on the wall.

“This used tae be a store room. My mother wanted a separate, smaller room tae meet guests and not feel so…imposed upon in the great hall. Now, what is it that you wanted to discuss?” He asked, his gaze intense.

Gemma took a deep breath, her hands shaking slightly. “Why did Captain Frazier and Colin leave?” She asked, her voice steady.

Bryce's face darkened, and he took a long sip of wine.

“You ken I cannae speak of such things,” he said, his voice cold.

Gemma felt a surge of frustration. She had known this would be difficult, but she had hoped that Bryce would have some shred of decency.

“I am tae be yer wife,” she said, her voice rising slightly. “I have a right tae ken, especially since he was our friend.”

Bryce leaned forward, his eyes blazing with intensity.

“You have no right,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You are mine, and you will do as I say. Do not forget your place, Gemma.”

Gemma felt a chill run down her spine, and she stood up abruptly.

“I will not be spoken to like that,” she said, her voice trembling. “I will not be treated like a possession. An’ I am not yers. We are not yet married.”

“Why is he still important tae ye?” Bryce snarled.

Gemma scoffed.

“Did ye not hear me? We were all friends once! He an’ Captain Frazier left wi’out explanation. What happened? Did ye exile them?”

Bryce huffed and stood up from his chair.

“They exiled themselves with their actions.”

“At yer not-so-gentle urging,” Gemma finished for him.

“I was merciful! I had half a mind tae execute them, but I spared them out of pity.”

“Did ye do it so ye could marry me wi’out interference?” she asked, straightening her spine as long as it would go.

“Ye are lucky tae have me. Dinnae ye forget that.”

“I’m lucky tae marry a man who would exile his best friend wi’out a second thought so he can claim their mutual friend as a prize?” Gemma felt her face growing hot with anger at this conversation. It was not at all how she thought it would go.

“Ye flirted shamelessly wi’ him!”

“Is flirting a crime? If so, Bryce, ye’d stand trial for several counts of flirtation. Ye an’ all the other men in this castle, every time there’s a feast or a gathering wi’ other lassies!”

“Aye, but ‘tis not just the flirting I saw. I saw ye kiss in the corridor that day — dinnae deny it! ‘Tis a wonder no one else saw it. But I did,” he said, wagging his finger at her in a most condescending manner. She had to resist the urge to bite it off.

“Why does that matter tae ye?” She asked coldly.

“Think about it. If anyone else saw ye, ye might’ve been ruined. ‘Tis good ‘twas only me, an’ that I’m willin’ tae marry ye.”

“It was a kiss, Bryce. No more than that. I hearken back tae my earlier words; would ye not be in trouble if kissing were a crime?”

“I’m a man. Ye are a woman. ‘Tis different when lads go around kissin’ lassies. But when lassies do it, ‘tis…well, ‘tis the behavior of a whore.”

Gemma could not believe her ears. This was no way to treat a lady, and she was not going to stand for it any longer.

“Ye act as if ye are doin’ some great service by marryin’ me, when ‘twas ye who pursued me at all costs!” She cried, striding forward and jabbing her finger into his chest.

He grasped her wrist and squeezed tight. The action scared her, but she was determined not to let him see it in her eyes.

“Learn yer place, Gemma. Good wives are grateful an’ respectful tae their husbands.”

“Let me go!” She shouted, wrenching her wrist out of his grasp and stepping back, her bosom heaving with the effort. “I willnae marry ye. I cannae marry a man who speaks tae me in this way; who treats me like I’m the choicest cattle of the lot.”

In a flash, Bryce raised his hand as if to strike her. She gasped, preparing herself to duck from the blow, but a maid passed by outside. The door was still open, and Gemma could see her skirts as she hurried by.

Bryce lowered his hand, chest also heaving with anger.

“Ye’ve been speakin’ wi’ him, haven’t ye?” He surmised.

Gemma said nothing, remaining as stone-faced as possible. Bryce waved a dismissive hand.

“It doesnae matter. I ken ye have. How else would ye know tae ask me? I ken he’s here. I’ll find him. Mark my words, I’ll find him.”

With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving Gemma breathless and shaking. She collapsed into the chair and gulped down the entire glass of wine he’d poured for her. Her hands shook wildly as she held the glass, and she was afraid to squeeze it too tight and break it.

She’d already had her doubts and misgivings about marrying Bryce, but this completely solidified it. Something in him had snapped; something evil, and she did not like it one bit.

If Bryce would admit nothing…she’d have to find the next best source.

She poured herself another glass of wine in preparation for what would be yet another difficult conversation that day.

Lady Catriona MacNeill’s plush living quarters were on the third floor. Gemma only knew where it was because she’d delivered linens there a few times. She took a deep breath before knocking on the heavy wooden door. Faint female voices sounded behind it — perhaps she was having one of her quilting bees with some of the noblewomen.

A maid answered the door.

“May I help ye, lass?”

Gemma nodded gingerly.

“I’m here tae speak wi’ Lady MacNeill, if she is not busy.”

The maid peered back at the room. Gemma took the liberty of looking with her — it was indeed a quilting bee.

“I’m sorry, lass, but she’s busy. I cannae?—”

The maid’s voice was cut off by a soothing older female voice.

“Rose? Who is at my door?”

“‘Tis Gemma Gordon, milady,” Gemma said, raising her voice. The maid looked a little sheepish at that — clearly she had not recognized her.

“Let her in, Rose. I will always have time for my future daughter-in-law,” Lady MacNeill said.

The maid curtsied as Gemma stepped in.

Truth be told, Gemma felt a little silly, and no doubt looked like a country mouse in comparison to these noblewomen, but she tried not to let that show. Instead, she held her head high as she curtsied to her possible future mother-in-law.

“Miss Gemma!” The Lady said, rising and bowing her head in greeting. She wore a dark blue gown of silk, and her dark hair, now streaked with gray, was twisted into a respectable bun. As Gemma looked at her, it was easy to see why both the laird and Captain Frazier had fallen for her in some way. She was beautiful, possessed gentle manners, and a pair of fine, kind eyes.

“My lady,” Gemma said softly.

“Tae what do I owe the pleasure? Wedding talk, I hope?” She asked, and the group of noblewomen tittered with pleasant laughter behind her.

For a moment, Gemma wondered if that was to be her life — cooped up in this castle with only her ladies and quilting bees for comfort.

“Well, sort of. I wondered if mayhap we could speak in private,” Gemma asked.

“Of course! Ladies, I will be back shortly. Keep sewing,” she said cheerily.

Lady MacNeill ushered her to a smaller, private room, which Gemma quickly realized was her dressing room. It held chests of drawers, a full-length mirror, and a plush cushion in the middle upon which to sit. It was large enough for the both of them to sit on, and so they did.

“What brings ye here, Gemma? Are ye nervous?” She asked, covering Gemma’s hand with her own. “If ye are, I understand. ‘Tis a big responsibility, an’ I ken that Bryce can be…intense,” she said, finally settling on a word.

“Aye, yes. ‘Tis actually what I wanted tae speak wi’ ye about,” Gemma said, her heart beating a little too fast for her liking. There was no way of telling how she would react. Hopefully not like her son.

“Oh? He hasnae hurt ye, has he?”

Well…no, not physically, he hasn’t, Gemma thought, but surely ‘tis only a matter of time . Still, it was curious that such a thought would first spring to Lady MacNeill’s mind.

“Nay, no. I erm…I’ve learned some information.”

She could swear she saw a flash of understanding cross the lady’s face, but it was so momentary, Gemma could not be sure.

“What have ye found, lass?”

Gemma took a deep breath in preparation for what she was about to say.

“My Lady, when I say this, please know I dinnae mean it tae accuse ye. I understand. Really, I do. So…I’ll just say it. I ken Bryce is Captain Frazier’s son.”

There was an uncomfortable silence between them as Gemma let the words fall. She fidgeted with the hem of her shawl until the Lady broke the silence with a shaky voice.

“Aye, he is. How did ye find out?”

Gemma had to fight the tears that were welling up in her eyes. This entire situation was so emotional; she hated that crying was her first response.

“I learnt from Colin, who learnt from his father. I dinnae think he kent until well after the exile.”

Lady MacNeill heaved a deep sigh that she seemed to have drawn from her bones.

“Dinnae tell anyone else, please,” she said wearily.

“Oh, my lady,” Gemma breathed, eyes wide with compassion, “I wouldnae do such a thing.”

“It would cause such an uproar among the clan,” the Lady continued.

“Oh, I ken. Please, I willnae tell anyone, ye must believe me. I tell ye this because…” her voice trailed off as fat, hot tears plopped onto her skirts.

“Oh, my darlin,’ what’s wrong?” The lady asked in a soothing voice. It was incredible to think that Bryce was begot from this kind and gentle woman.

“It would be just as much damage tae me as it would tae ye,” Gemma explained.

“How so?”

Gemma gulped nervously.

“I…I cannae marry Bryce. I’m sorry. I dinnae love him.”

Lady MacNeill looked disappointed, but she did not lecture Gemma or blame her.

“I wondered. Ye didnae look well at the feast.”

Now was the moment. She’d been holding in these feelings for so long; had told no one but the object of her affections. It would be a relief to finally say it aloud.

“I love Colin.”