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Authors: Karolyn Cairns

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BOOK: A Witch's Tale
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“Why
would you do such a thing?”

“I
found you to be a more worthy prize,” he said and avoided her gaze. “The
thought of being owned by Strathmore held little appeal. Suddenly winning
wasn’t as important or as desirable to me.”

“You
accept your loss well, my lord,” she observed without rancor.

Rohan
looked back at her and his dark eyes blazed down at her. “I am not the one who
lost, Madeline. It is a pity you do not see it as I do. You are better off with
me.”

He
strode away to see to his horse. She could see he was still angry. The thought of
all he gave up for her still made her cringe in disbelief. It was
incomprehensible to believe he would give up a rich title and estate to marry
her. He only knew of the barony after the fact. He could have ridden away from
the tournament with nothing; nothing but her, that is. It stunned her.

The
thought that Rohan would give up all he strived to attain his whole life took
her breath, making her look at him with renewed faith. He had never seen her as
a consolation from the onset of the tournament. She was the prize he sought
from the start.

Wonder
filled her gaze to think he would think of her before himself, reminding her
Gavin never gave her future a thought. No, her lover thought to give her a
purse of coins and see her on her way. Then he decided he could have both a
wife and a mistress when he won. She was angry to think of his underhanded
plans. She felt shame for her disloyal thoughts of her husband in the
beginning.

****

They
made camp late that night. Rohan and his men were conversing some distance away
and she was free to study her new husband. Where Gavin had been dark and
brooding; Rohan was fair and teasing. The two men were as different as two men
could be, yet both had one alarming thing in common. They both made her yearn
to be different than she was.

Denying
her witch’s nature became difficult even after two days on the road. She had no
outlet for her thoughts, no Goddess to console her, no religion to lay her
hopes and fears upon. It was deflating to know Minerva had been right all along.
Her grandmother told her this thing they did was not a choice. Even now her
hands itched to make her remedies, hearing his men’s complaints along the
roadside, wanting to ease their suffering.

The
comfort she drew from the daily prayers to the Goddess made her nearly weep for
the loss. Such was the price of being a lady. Even as she told herself it was
for the best she put her magic aside; she longed to return to her former ways.
She was quiet and withdrawn as a result. Rohan gave up trying to draw her out
after hours of her silence.

Madeline
had some consolation to know Gavin attained his heart’s desire. She could only
hope the spell she cast upon him at the last held to see him through his
wedding. She was disturbed by what Alastair told her, could find no means to
explain why he suddenly had a change of heart. Was it possible he’d begun to
care for her without her magic? She was dismayed to think of him now, knowing
it had all been derived from the spells and not what she would have wished.

Suddenly
her relationship with Rohan seemed far more real and honest. She’d cast no
spell to make him desire her, and he did, enough to give up all he wanted. He
didn’t even resent it, she saw, as his dark gaze lingered upon her with warmth
often that evening. No, her new husband found her to be the prize, despite the
cost to him.

He
joined her and gazed at her in concern, dark eyes troubled. “What has you so
quiet this night, Madeline?”

“I
was thinking about life’s ironies,” she said with a smile as she saw Gerwin and
his lady lying by the fire. “When do we arrive at Rothford?”

“By
end of day tomorrow,” he said as he sat beside her. “Do life’s ironies mean you
being given to me and not your lover?”

Madeline
glared at him. “Can you cease to call him that?”

“Isn’t
that what he was?” Rohan asked with a look of jealousy in his dark eyes.
“Forgive me if the thought my wife was kept by another holds some lingering
concern to me. It was only three days ago you left the man’s bed to come to
mine.”

“We
are married now. You might wish to put that behind us.”

“Have
you put it behind you, Madeline?” he persisted, his handsome face filled with
sudden hope.

“Gavin
has what he wanted, and you are right, he never would have given it up for me,”
she said and felt saddened to know it. “I was foolish to think he returned my
feelings.”

“It
pleases me to hear you say that,” Rohan said and reached out and touched her
cheek gently. “But I think you can hardly know the man’s mind. He came to me
before we left the palace. He threatened me should I ever make you unhappy.”

Madeline
ignored the flutter of excitement to know it was possible Gavin might have
truly cared for her. She smiled at her husband. “Then it appears you have a
duty to me.”

“It
is no duty to make you happy, wife,” Rohan told her with a disarming smile. “I
see it as a challenge more each day to prove to you that you received the
better offer here, even if you don’t see it as such.”

“Despite
what you think; I would have never agreed to stay with him after his marriage,”
she told him with her eyes blazing in indignation. “I had no desire to be kept
by any man before or after he saved me, even for love.”

“Yet
you claimed to have loved de Mortaine?” Rohan mused thoughtfully.

“Enough
to let him go,” she injected with a shake of her head. “My mother once held
such a place in my father’s life. I saw it kill her from the time I could
notice her sadness. I had no such plans for myself, I assure you. I would have
left him, and been happy for it.”

Rohan
said nothing to that, his dark eyes implacable. “Then we will speak of this no
more. I would regale you with my homeland.”

“You’re
an Irishman?” she asked, eyes filled with amusement. “You sound and act like an
Englishman.”

“My
sire was
Lord
Latimer de Warren, and yes, he was an English earl there. While
he couldn’t leave me his title, he was determined to make a nobleman of me,”
Rohan disclosed with a grin. “My mother was very much Irish.”

“Tell
me about her,” Madeline said and saw him stiffen and look away. She knew there
was something he didn’t wish to talk about.

“She
abandoned me at de Warren’s estate when I was a lad of nine years,” he said
bitterly and tossed a twig into the fire. “There isn’t much to tell. She moved
about often and obviously no longer wished a child along with her. I recall she
tricked me, leaving me on the man’s doorstep.”

Madeline’s
heart went out to him, knowing how it must still pain him, seeing his tight
expression. “Mayhap she did it for your benefit, Rohan?”

His
lips twisted into a sneer. “Don’t presume she had that much fondness for me,
Madeline. I can assure you; that was not the case. Ursula was very much
inconvenienced by me, no more.”

“Why
did you move around so much?”

“Ursula
claimed to be a witch also, sometimes a gypsy, even a fairy on occasion,” he
said with a snort of disgust. “From what I recall, she was nothing short of a
trickster who cheated others with false claims. We ran more often than not when
she was found out.”

“Then
perhaps it was for the best she left you with your father?”

“It
was the one noble thing the woman ever did in her life, and for her own
purposes.”

“You
were but a boy; surely you cannot believe she didn’t care for you?”

Rohan
snorted in disgust. “You grew up with such a woman. Was your grandmother any
different?”

Madeline
grew defensive. Minerva might have been focused upon her craft to their
detriment and they moved often, but she never doubted the old woman adored her.

“My
grandmother loved me. She would have never cast me off even if she was on the
run.”

“Then
it is fortunate for you the trickster who raised you had more concern for you
than my mother did for me,” he said bitterly.

“Why
do think she was a trickster?”

He
glared at her and rolled his eyes. “Can we dispense with this nonsense of you being
a witch, Madeline? It is not possible. You have no need to continue to claim
such things. I’m not some damned villager asking for a spell to improve my
lot.”

She
grew angry and bit back a retort. It was obvious he didn’t believe. “Perhaps
she had some magic powers?”

Rohan
laughed at that, a bitter sound. “No, she quite played the part. I can recall
helping her fool some ignorant soul more than once into believing they spoke
with their dead child on occasion. I helped her then. She had no magic.”

Madeline
could see now why he refused to believe her, thinking she was like his mother.
He forgave her for it, seeing Minerva must have misguided her. She was sorry
for his early life, knowing it must have been difficult.

“She
did what she could for you. Maybe leaving you with your father was all she
could do.”

“Wrong
again, my sweet forgiving wife,” he said coolly. “She merely didn’t want me
slowing her down. She fleeced some nobles along the road and they chased us.
She left me there so she could be free of me.”

“Then
it appears you were better off for it,” she argued and her blue eyes filled
with compassion at his early abandonment. “Your father took you in, did he
not?”

Rohan
glared at her. “Aye, he took me in. He had no choice. He had no children. His
first wife died in childbed and his current one was barren. He never failed to
remind me of what was expected of me.”

“It
appears you exceeded his expectations then.”

“No,
winning Rivenhahl would have done that,” he disclosed in a flat tone. “I very
much failed him.”

Her
heart went out to him then, seeing all he wanted was given up for her. “Does he
live yet?”

Rohan
shook his head. “He died the year I won my spurs. His only wish was for me to
be a great man one day, have all he couldn’t give me.”

“Who
holds his title now?”

Rohan
looked disgusted. “My stepmother produced a male child within months of his
death, though I suspect she didn’t bear it herself. My guess is she stole some
villager’s child to claim it as her own. She was a sly one, as I recall.”

“Why
do we go there?” she asked, wondering what home he spoke of.

“I
have a home of my own there,” he replied and smiled teasingly. “It is not some
grand keep, but it requires my attention. I have a mind to sell the land. Need
I remind you, we are penniless?”

Madeline
realized he did this because he was without funds. She thought of the fortune
within her chest and hoped once he had it they had no need to return to his
homeland.

“Have
you seen Rothford?” she asked, thinking of her new home with excitement.

Rohan
frowned. “There has been no baron there from the time of Elizabeth. I do not
expect much for that reason, Madeline.”

She
was deflated at his words, but still hoped to find their home livable. “Still,
it will be our home.”

Rohan
regarded her in amusement. “After those damned Scots raided the land these last
years, do not expect much. I’m told Rivenhahl is no better. It is what happens
when the land is abandoned.”

“But
we have a house, do we not?” she persisted, wanting to hear of her home.

“Aye,
a large house with much land around it,” he told her, smiling to see her
excitement. “The barony of Rothford was once a rich estate until the former
baron was executed for treason.”

“Then
it will be again one day,” she said with a gleam of determination in her gaze.

Rohan
chuckled and shook his head. “A barony with no tenant income is hardly
promising at all. I am to be Rivenhahl’s great dog to scare the Scots into
behaving while we live no better than paupers ourselves.”

Madeline
was angry at his continued pessimism. “You might wish to refrain from judgment
until you see our home, Rohan. You might be surprised.”

“I’d
be surprised if it still stands, wife,” he joked and earned a glare from her.
“The borders are dangerous, Madeline. It is no quiet place we go. The king saw
a way to secure his border with this gift to me, nothing more. With both de
Mortaine and me there, he feels content the border wars will die down.”

“Isn’t
Strathmore’s estate close by?”

“It
is fifty miles from Rivenhahl, hardly close,” Rohan said and saw her worry.
“The man has his own issues for now. He will wait to seek his revenge, but do
not doubt it comes.”

“How
is it you got mixed up in Lord Strathmore’s schemes?”

“He
learned of my jousting skill and found me,” Rohan replied and shrugged. “I can
assure you, had he not funded my going to England to enter the tournament; I
would have gone on my own. To imagine such a prize was within my grasp was too
much to resist.”

BOOK: A Witch's Tale
6.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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