Chapter Twenty-Eight

"H as the king changed his mind?"

Jillian struggled to hide her distress from Eyreka. A second audience with the king had not changed his mind.

Jillian shrugged. "He maintains our agreement will stand." Though her eyes burned, she refused to give in to the tears closing her throat.

It had been weeks since the king had made his decision known to her, and announced it to those at Court. To her intense dismay, Henri du Guerre pursued her wherever she happened to be. In order to avoid contact with the man, she had taken to hiding in the chamber she shared with Garrick's mother.

To add to her pain, her husband began avoiding her. Too ashamed to face him, she knew it was better this way. After all, he must know by now she was to wed another.

The king demanded her presence in the hall tonight. Did he know she was hiding? There was no hope for it; she could not ignore a royal summons to dine.

"There must be something that we can do. Some way we can change his mind," Eyreka maintained.

Their eyes met. "You are a true friend, Reka. I would go mad without you." Twin drops of sorrow escaped from the curve of her lashes before she could stop them.

"I have made peace within myself," she said, wiping the tears away. "I did all that I could to regain my parents' home; they would be pleased that a warrior such as Garrick will be the one to rebuild Loughmoe. Those that are left working the fields will have an overlord who will care for them, about them, and Merewood Keep's people will thrive." As if trying to convince herself, she added fervently, "'Twas the only choice."

"What about you, dear? What about what is right for you?"

"I cannot have what is right for me."

"Mother. Lady Jillian," Dunstan's called from the hallway.

"We're coming." Eyreka answered, opening the door.

"How do you fare, Jillian?" Dunstan's concern was evident. His gaze met hers, and she knew her bleak expression left no doubt as to how she was feeling.

He offered his arm to both women and without another word escorted them to the evening meal.

"I have asked to speak to King William," he confided, pulling the chair back for his mother. When she was seated, he did the same for Jillian. "I do not think the marriage he plans is in your best interest." Placing a hand on her shoulder, he leaned down to add, "I have spoken to my brother, 'tis not as it seems. He never sought to—"

"Lady Jillian," Haldana interrupted, "how lovely you look tonight." The false note in Haldana's voice cut through Jillian's haze of pain. Her eyes darted to Dunstan's face, searching for a clue as to what he had been about to say, but he turned away from her when Lady Haldana arrived.

"And you, milady." The polite reply through stiffened jaw nearly did her in. But a loud commotion coming from the dais caught everyone's attention. The spacious room grew oddly quiet, belying the large number of nobles in attendance.

"I demand satisfaction," Owen thundered. "He ruined my daughter!"

Jillian saw Madelyne, standing beside her former guardian. A sideways glance at Lady Haldana revealed nothing. The woman's face had a serene look plastered upon it.

Dunstan nodded to his older brother who sat across the room from them. Jillian tried to guess what he and Garrick were trying to communicate but couldn't. She gave up, though she could not tear her gaze away from Garrick.

What did he no longer plan to do? Her mind plagued her with possibilities. She jolted at the cry of outrage erupting from somewhere to the left of her.

She leaned closer to Eyreka, noticing Garrick's mother's eyes seemed bright with emotion. "What did Owen say?"

"It seems that your royally appointed husband seduced young Madelyne. Her father is demanding they marry at once."

Du Guerre marry Madelyne? The idea glimmered like a beacon at the end of a long, dark tunnel. It would be the only way out of marrying the man herself. But what of Loughmoe?

"Henri, what have you to say to the charges brought before me?" the king demanded loudly.

Madelyne stepped forward boldly and spoke in hushed tones. Whatever she said made the king smile, while her father turned purple with rage. Owen raised his hand to strike her, but he never delivered the blow, du Guerre stopped him.

"'Tis the truth." The man's stance was threatening as he clamped his hand tightly around Owen's forearm.

King William stood facing the room, a large goblet raised high.

"Send for the cleric." The king's gaze connected with Jillian's. "We're to have a wedding."

Jillian could not seem to catch her breath. The king's announcement drove the air from her body. Seeing her distress, Eyreka pounded her on the back until Jillian realized what the woman was trying to do and breathed out.

*

"Dear God in heaven," Jillian rasped, "I'm not ready. I thought I would have at least another few weeks to prepare."

Her terror-filled gaze sought that of her husband. He had risen up at the king's command. Pain mirroring her own slashed across his handsome face.

He loves me!

But it's too late.

Someone had taken hold of her hand in a grip of iron. Distractedly, she looked from her hand up into the face so close to her own.

"Winslow?"

"Aye, lass, dinna be afraid. 'Tis not what ye think. I canna say anymore, but trust us."

"Us?"

"Your husband and I, lass."

With that he was gone.

Swallowing to ease the huge lump that had formed moments before, she focused on the dais, waiting for the king to beckon her forward.

*

A trickle of sweat ran down her back, though she was cold with fear.

"What are they doing?" Eyreka asked motioning to the group of men forming behind her eldest son.

"I'm not certain."

Garrick stood grim faced, feet apart, flanked by his brothers. Behind him Winslow and the O'Malleys, his Irish Contingent, stood in silent show of support. Half of them stared at her, while the other half stared at du Guerre.

Jillian had no idea what was about to happen, but every one of Garrick's men stood with their hands on the hilt of their swords, battle ready.

The cleric arrived in a flurry of activity, robes flying out behind him as he rushed up to the dais, ready to record the union.

King William stood and motioned for silence. He turned and looked directly at Jillian.

She froze, never more frightened in her life yet grasping the feeble straw she had just been handed. Trust us . She met the king's gaze, forcing a smile to her lips. He nodded.

To her shock, Henri du Guerre was joined to Madelyne of Sedgeworth. They were to leave at once for their new home, Loughmoe Keep.

Before her mind could recover from that announcement, she was summoned to stand before her monarch. Moving on leaden legs, she did as she was bid.

"Lady Jillian, circumstances have necessitated our bargain be changed. Garrick has changed his mind. He no longer wishes to annul your marriage."

Her legs shook, and her body trembled. Refusing to hope, she waited for him to continue.

"It has long been my intention to install a Norman baron at Loughmoe. Henri was instrumental in taking the keep during the Uprising. 'Twould have been my first wish to see you married to du Guerre as you had bargained."

Garrick spoke then. "What was the rest of the bargain, Sire?"

Jillian could not meet his eyes, though she could feel his gaze searing the top of her bent head.

"You would have received Loughmoe."

"I am not Norman by birth." Garrick appeared confused.

"Aye. But you have more than proved your worth to us by bringing the rebels to justice. Your loyalty is known to us."

The revelry behind them grew loud enough to hamper conversation.

"Enjoy the feast. Do you return to Merewood, then?"

"Aye, Sire. My wife and I shall leave on the morrow."

"Then you and your lady wife may retire to your chamber to make ready." With a wave of his hand, they were dismissed.

Taking Jillian's arm, Garrick led her around the edge of the crowded room and out of the great hall. Pulling her into a deep alcove, he wrapped her in his embrace. His lips sought hers, desperately, as he realized how much they had to be thankful for.

"Thank God I have been given another chance, Jillian. MacInness told me what the king tried to do. But my hands were tied—I had to wait until the right moment."

"After I had been given in marriage to du Guerre?"

"My men were ready to take action."

Jillian's heart clenched at the thought of the blood that had nearly been shed in the name of love. Thank the Lord it had been averted in time. "Then you didn't tell the king you wanted to set me aside?"

"Weeks ago, yes. But that was before—"

Stricken by the knowledge that he had at one point sought an annulment, she rasped, "Before what?"

"Before I tended your wounds, before I learned of your brave deeds…before I fell so deeply in love with you that I may never recover."

His lips touched hers tenderly, leaving no doubt that she was well and truly loved.

Her throat was so tight, she could not speak. As her love for him radiated from deep within her, she hoped he could hear the truth pounding in her heart.

"There are things you should know about me." If the set of his jaw were an indication, she would not like what he had to tell her. "Come."

Jillian willingly followed.

When they were alone in his chamber, he took her into his arms and kissed her tenderly. His kiss so sweet it brought tears to her eyes.

"You were willing to give up your family home for me. The value of such a gift is beyond price."

"I would give anything to see you happy."

"But your land? And at such cost." Jillian felt the hard edge of his temper as he continued. "You would marry du Guerre?"

"The king said you still planned to set me aside."

Garrick's ire left him at her words. She saw the softening around his eyes and mouth. "He did not tell you I had changed my mind?"

"Had you truly?" Even though she already knew the answer, she could not stop herself from asking just one more time.

"Jillian, I asked you to trust me. Do you?"

Though it was there in her eyes, he asked again. This time she gave him the words. "I trust you."

"I had changed my mind before I found you unconscious at the hands of the rebels."

"Then the night we—"

"Later, love." Garrick lowered his lips to hers.

He'd nearly lost the woman of his heart. The thought nearly immobilized him. One thought seared through him, over and over. He had to seal their vows again. This time, there would be no going back.

"I love you," he vowed, grasping the hem of her gown and sliding it to her waist.

"Forever," she whispered, reaching for his braes.

They were together as one in a heartbeat. Their joining frantic. His rhythmic thrusts matched hers; her moans of ecstasy echoed his.

His tongue urged her higher, while her hands stroked him upward. With each plunging motion, their love was cemented, their hearts nearly bursting with it, until they were at the edge of the summit.

She looked into the bright blue depths of his eyes and surrendered body and soul. They climaxed together, plunging into the abyss of darkness at the edge of sanity.