After several days’ delay, Drake had finally arrived.
Ewan was in the Great Hall when shrieks of excitement echoed outside the large doors. Monroe, who had been in the middle of relaying the current farming status of one of the nearby villages, stopped speaking and glanced toward the sound.
“’Tis only the sisters,” Ewan explained.
In the last few days, he’d gotten used to the giggles and squeals between the ladies. It warmed his heart as much as it cut him deep. For Faye still had not given him an answer.
What was worse, she was pulling away from him. The quiet moments between them were once more filled with wild passion, where pleasure was sought rather than companionship. She still slept in his chamber with him, but she was gone every morning before he woke.
He was no fool. He knew well why she was taking so long to give him her reply. She was planning to leave.
It eased the pain in his chest to know that in doing so, she would once more find happiness.
After all, she would leave, aye, but she would be back in the summer. And in the days between, he would devote himself to his people as he always had.
The clatter of footsteps echoed off the high stone walls. Three ladies raced into the large room with a tall man between them. He had the same dark hair as the middle sister, Clara, with the same straight nose and generous mouth as the others.
Drake.
Tension wound up the muscles along Ewan’s back. He ought to be relieved as he knew he could now present Drake with the Berwick. Except that he suspected Faye was waiting for her brother’s arrival to give Ewan her reply.
Unbidden, Ewan’s gaze found his wife. Her blue kirtle was the same one she’d worn to his uncle’s wedding, and it fit her body so perfectly, it made him want to span his hands over her narrow waist and draw her to him. Sun had kissed her cheeks and lips, leaving them with a lovely glow, and her eyes danced with laughter. She was vibrant and bonny, so much that it made his heart ache.
He approached them and looked at the man. “I assume this is yer brother?”
“Aye.” Faye grinned. “This is Drake. The eldest.”
Where his sisters were all laughter and bright sunshine, Drake’s face was set with seriousness. “Drake Fletcher.” He nodded to Ewan politely.
“Ewan Sutherland, Chieftain of the Sutherland clan.”
“Well met, sir,” Drake replied with a soldier’s obedience.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ewan caught Moiré entering the Great Hall. She glanced shyly toward the sisters and hovered near the sidewall, appearing ill at ease among the lot of women.
Their arrival had put Moiré off somewhat, but then his cousin had always been somewhat reticent. Especially when it came to other women. Faye had been considerate to Ewan’s cousin, though, and often made time to spend with Moiré.
“I hear ye’re Captain of the Guard at Werrick Castle on the English side of the border,” Ewan said.
Drake’s chest filled with apparent pride. “Aye, I’ve been fortunate to be in such a secure position.”
“I also hear ye’re a fine warrior.”
“I try, sir,” Drake said earnestly.
It was a curious thing to compare this man with his jubilant sisters. But then, from what Ewan had gathered in his conversations with Faye’s family, Drake had been their primary provider. Responsibility tempered a man’s senses and put his mind to task.
Such men also did not have the liberty to spend large amounts of time away from their duties.
“I presume ye must return to Werrick Castle posthaste,” Ewan surmised.
“Aye.”
Exactly as Ewan had anticipated. He would need to address the land with Drake immediately.
“I should like to speak with ye once ye’ve settled,” Ewan said. “Faye can show ye to yer room. I’ll be in my solar.”
Faye’s eyes met Ewan’s, and she nodded. But her gaze lingered. A jolt of energy raced through him. Was she considering him with interest? Or out of concern?
He roughly shoved aside the thoughts. He’d spent days analyzing every look, every smile, every damn word. It made his brain ache with how much he tried to determine what her decision might be.
Faye waved over Moiré and introduced Drake. It was the perfect opportunity for Ewan to depart. He could not be near Faye without imagining her soon gone. No sweet smiles in his direction, a cold side of the bed where she once lay tucked in his arms, the absence of her floral scent in the air of his chamber.
He would miss everything, and each little reminder tore at his chest.
It was maddening, this inability to stay away even as it hurt too much to be near her.
He was not in his solar long before a knock came from the door, so efficient and crisp that he knew it would be Drake before the man appeared.
Faye’s brother stepped into the room; his footsteps clipped. He didn’t gaze around Ewan’s solar as most did. But then, the few bits of furniture and simple tapestries were hardly impressive to a man who came from an English castle, which was rumored to be far more ostentatious.
“Ye’ve cared well for my sister,” Drake said. “I dinna know what I’d find when I arrived and was grateful to see her safe. Thank ye.”
“I’m afraid it wasna enough,” Ewan said candidly. While he would not tell Cait about why Faye had decided to wed him, he knew Drake would need to be informed.
“What do ye mean?” Drake’s brows immediately pinched with concern, and his shoulders squared.
Ewan indicated the chair, and the other man lowered himself to the seat.
“Ross said if Faye dinna wed me, he would force one of her sisters,” Ewan replied. He’d prepared for this moment, an opportunity to keep Faye’s sisters safe. While he tried to reassure her Ross wouldn’t find out, he couldn’t be entirely certain what
