“Did ye trade one brother for another?” she accused.
“No greeting?” Bronwyn said tiredly as she headed for the bed. “I bring you a new child and you can give me no fond greeting?”
Morag’s wrinkled face grinned. “That’s my sweet Stephen. I knew he was a man.”
Bronwyn lay down on the bed and didn’t bother to argue with Morag. “Go and meet the other Englishman I brought you. You’ll like him.” She pulled a quilt over her. All she wanted to do was sleep.
The weeks came and went and all Bronwyn did was sleep. Her body was exhausted from the turmoil and the changes that the baby was making. Miles came one morning to tell her he was returning to England. He thanked her for her hospitality and promised to make her apologies to Judith and Gavin. Neither mentioned Stephen.
Bronwyn tried not to think of her husband, but it wasn’t easy. Everyone asked questions about him. Tam demanded to know why the hell she left England so suddenly. Why didn’t she stay and fight for him? His mouth dropped open when Bronwyn suddenly burst into tears and ran from the room. After that fewer people asked questions that she couldn’t answer.
Three weeks after she returned home, one of her men told her a guard of Englishmen was approaching Larenston.
“Gavin!” she cried and ran upstairs to change her clothes. She donned the cloth-of-silver dress Stephen had given her and stood ready to greet her brother-in-law. She was sure it was Gavin approaching. He’d been to Scotland before, and he would be the one to give her news of Stephen. Perhaps Stephen had forgiven her and was coming to her. No, it was too much to ask.
Her smile faded when Roger Chatworth walked into the Great Hall. She was appalled at what she’d done. She’d ordered the visitor to be allowed entrance to Larenston without actually knowing who he was. And her men had obeyed her with no questions. She looked at the faces of her men and saw their concern for her. They would do anything to make her return to herself again.
She tried to cover her disappointment and held out her hand. “Lord Roger, how nice to see you again.”
Roger dropped to one knee and took her hand, held it to his lips. His blond hair was darker than she remembered, the scar by his eye even more prominent. He brought back memories of the time at Sir Thomas Crichton’s house. She’d been so lonely then, and Roger had been so kind, so understanding. He’d even been willing to risk his life to do what she wanted.
“You are more beautiful than I remembered,” he said quietly.
“Come now, Lord Roger, I don’t remember you as a flatterer.”
He stood, his eyes on hers. “And what do you remember about me?”
“Only that you were willing to help me at a time when I needed help. Douglas,” she called, “make Lord Roger and his men welcome.”
Roger watched as the man obeyed her instantly. He looked around at the bare, unadorned walls of Larenston. The road into the peninsula had been lined with very poor little houses. Was this all the wealth there was to the MacArrans?
“Lord Roger, come to my solar and talk with me. What brings you to Scotland? Oh, but I forgot that you have relatives here, don’t you?”
Roger lifted one eyebrow. “Yes, I do.” He followed her upstairs to another bare room, where a small fire blazed cheerfully in the fireplace.
“Won’t you sit down?” Bronwyn gave a curt look at Morag, then asked the disapproving little woman to bring them wine and refreshments.
When they were seated and alone, Roger leaned toward her. “I will be honest with you. I came to see if you needed any assistance. When I saw Stephen at King Henry’s court and—”
“You saw Stephen at court!” she gasped.
He watched her face. “I thought perhaps you didn’t know. There were too many women near him and—”
Bronwyn rose and went toward the fire. “I’d prefer not to hear the rest of what you have to say,” she said coldly. She was beginning to remember all about Roger Chatworth. He’d stabbed at Stephen’s back once before.
“Lady Bronwyn,” he said desperately. “I meant no harm. I thought you knew.”
She whirled on him. “I’ve matured a great deal since I last saw you. Once I was easy prey for your handsome ways, and I was childishly angry because my husband was late for our wedding. But now I am older and much, much wiser. As you have guessed, I’m sure, my husband and I have quarreled. Whether we will settle our differences or not I don’t know, but the quarrel will remain between us.”
Roger’s dark eyes narrowed. He had a way of tilting his head back so he seemed to be looking down his narrow, aquiline nose. “Do you think I’ve come here to carry gossip like some fisherman’s wife?”
“It would sound so. You’ve already mentioned the women around Stephen.”
Roger began to smile slowly. “Perhaps I did. Forgive me. I was only surprised to see him away from your side.”
“So you hurried to tell me of his…escapades?”
He stared at her, his handsome face warm and alive. “Come and sit down, please. You weren’t always so hostile to me. Once you even asked that we be married.”