The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree
Has given my heart
A change of mood,
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.
~ Robert Frost, “Dust of Snow”
The best thing Reikart could say about the two-day journey to the English court was that it was over. When Castle Kinntoch came into view, where the king’s court was currently presiding, Reikart heard and felt Deirdre breathe a sigh of relief. With traveling so fast to get here, there had been little time for private conversation, and even if there had been time, Alastair had been with them every bit of the way up until only moments ago when he’d left them at the edge of the thick woods that surrounded the castle.
Her saying that she loved him replayed in his mind a million times a day and was the last thing he had thought about when he had fallen asleep the past two nights. Well, he also had thought about the look on her face when she’d told him her feelings—hope mingled with sadness. He hated himself for hurting her with his silence. Could he do what Rhys had suggested? Try to let Deirdre in and see if he could hold on to his memories of Amanda? He couldn’t let go of her, not totally. He owed her that.
Castle Kinntoch was a sprawling structure with a motte and double bailey. Dozens of horses clopped over the lowered bridge the guard towers flanked, and hundreds of people crossed the drawbridge. Banners flew as lavishly dressed men and women were led across the bridge by groups of guards. Many people who crossed the bridge on foot seemed to be entering the castle with goods to sell.
When Reikart’s party got to the guard tower, they were stopped as the people before them had been. “State your business at the king’s court,” the guard said.
“I’m Lady Deirdre Irvine, Baron Bellecote’s betrothed, and this man—” She motioned a dismissive hand toward Reikart “—is Reikart McCaim. His clan gave me shelter when my castle was seized.”
When Reikart had agreed to the plan for Deirdre to present herself as if she were still to marry Baron Bellecote, he didn’t think it would bother him so much. But the possessiveness he felt as she said the words, as he considered that she might end up alone with Bellecote at some point, in a situation where the man would think he had the right to touch her, nearly choked him. He clenched his jaw as the guard called to a younger guard to lead them into the main courtyard, which was teeming with people.
“The baron,” the young guard said, “is in the king’s chambers I believe. There is a fair going on today and a great feast tonight. I’ll settle you in the east wing, Lady Irvine, near the baron’s bedchamber. As to you,” the guard said, giving Reikart a distasteful look, “you will go to the west wing with the rest of the Scots.”
Reikart narrowed his eyes at the man who disliked him simply because he was Scottish, and the man considered Reikart beneath him. It was a sharp reminder of the war to come between England and Scotland because King Edward considered himself above any man who would rule Scotland. At the east entrance, they were relieved of their horses by a stable hand, and they were led into the castle. Having grown up in privilege, Reikart had never been overly impressed by displays of wealth, but the carvings in the east wing astonished him. They moved through the passage, Deirdre ahead of Reikart with the guard next to her talking animatedly. Behind Reikart were two servants, who had seemingly magically appeared out of nowhere with the satchels Reikart and Deirdre had packed, which contained the bare essentials.
When they came to an intersecting hall, the guard snapped his fingers, and one of the servants scurried past Reikart to the head guard’s side. “George will take you to your quarters,” the guard near Deirdre said, looking to Reikart.
“And where will the lady be?” he demanded, feeling that overwhelming sense of possessiveness again.
“The lady is no longer your concern, McCaim.”
Reikart narrowed his eyes at the guard, who he was now envisioning punching. “The lady,” he bit out, “is—”
“Indebted to ye for all ye have done for me,” Deirdre said, stepping toward him and grasping one of his hands. She gave him an imploring look and gently squeezed his hand. “I’m certain, my lord, that we will see each other again in the castle.”
“Doubtful,” the head guard said, putting his hands on Deirdre’s wrist and tugging her away from Reikart. It took all his restraint not to jerk her back to his side. “You need a special invitation to the east wing. You may consider yourself relieved of the duty of watching over this woman, McCaim.”
The statement hit him like a hard punch, and realization washed over him. He didn’t want to let her go—and not just now. He had to do exactly what his brother had said and try to let her in. “I do nae,” he said, hoping his false accent sounded passable, “consider my time with Lady Deirdre a duty,” he replied, wishing he could say more. “It has been a pleasure that I hate to see end.” Her eyes widened at him. Christ, he hoped she understood that he wanted to try, and he really hoped she knew what she was doing because he had no clue.
“Until we meet again, my lord,” she said, offering a deep curtsy.
And then, just as quickly as she had appeared in his life, she was gone from the corridor, her scent of heather lingering around him, along with the memories he now had of her filling his mind. As he followed the young guard, he realized Deirdre was his first thought now and no longer Amanda.
He was shown into his bedchamber, which was little more than a hole in the wall, and told a horn would blow for supper in the great hall. Once he was alone, he sat on the cot and turned his mind toward Amanda. She and Deirdre were like night and day, not just in appearance—Dee being blond and blue eyed and Amanda having had dark hair and dark eyes—their personalities were so different. Dee had an inner strength that Amanda had never shown. She’d needed him, and when they’d first gotten together he’d needed her, too. He hadn’t needed her in the end, and it was that knowledge that had eaten at him all these years. If he’d only let her go when he should have, maybe she’d still be alive. He didn’t know.
He raked his hands through his hair and rested his elbows on his thighs. He cradled his pounding skull and stared down at the reed-covered floor. He didn’t want to lose Dee. “I have to let go, Amanda,” he whispered into the silence. He lay back on the straw-and-feather-stuffed bed and rested his forearms over his eyes. He let his mind wander back to all the moments he’d had with Amanda, good times and bad, recalling them each in vivid detail. A thought froze in his brain as he came to the night of the crash, and he forced himself to relive the fight and the way he’d spoken to Amanda. He had felt guilty all this time not because he was afraid he’d forget her but because he had wanted to move on. He would always remember Amanda. She was part of him. His time with her had helped shape who he was.
A memory hit him, and he cringed. He could see Amanda at the restaurant that last night after she’d refused to make her own choice of what to order. He had snapped at her to know her own mind.I know my mind,she had bit out.If you leave me, I’ll die.He hadn’t left her that night, and shehaddied, and that was what had been so hard to live with. It was time, though, to start really living again.
“You look enchanting, Lady Deirdre,” Algien said, running his finger down her arm. His touch repulsed her, made her want to pull away from him, but she didn’t dare.
