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  What if Raik learned what they had done? He was a proud man, bastard or not. He would be enraged if he ever learned 'twas Letia who had stolen his seed and had his child.

  Should that come to pass, Leofwan would protect her. And he truly believed that Raik's heated dislike of Letia was akin to another powerful emotion. Over time, such strong feelings could turn to an equally passionate love. He prayed Leofwan was right.

  He sighed. Deep.

  He knew Letia loved him, but 'twas a quiet love. A love forged by trust and friendship. His feelings for her were far different. He had ever been careful to guard them. He could not have stood her pity. If he had been a younger man when they wed, would she have felt love for him as deeply as what his own heart harbored?

  "...if ye want the men to leave afore the noon hours."

  "Hm? What?" Warin blinked. Why, he had been staring out the window mooning like a foolish youngling.

  "Had ye not best let the kings know ye are expecting an heir come the summer? If ye sit there much longer, the boy will be back with your porridge. A message such as this should have wax and not spilled gruel holding it together."

  Warin's spirits lifted and he grinned.

  "Heir! I like the sound of that word." He nodded. "Aye! 'Tis a wonderful word for any man to hear."

  o0o

  Earlier this morn, Letia had watched from the great hall window as Father Paul, along with a goodly escort, set off southward for London. Now, her forehead wrinkled when another armed escort headed north. Into Scotland. Missives to both King Stephen and King David?

  Why had Warin been so closed-mouthed about the messengers when she asked after the noon meal? He would say only that he wished to notify the regents of Seton's expected heir and secure Stephens promise that should Warin succumb to his illness, she would be wed to a man who would vow to protect her, the child and all at Seton.

  But something had flickered through his eyes before he blinked and changed the subject. Mayhap he thought to save her worry, but worry she did.

  He hid something from her.

  She sensed it. Could near feel it churning through his mind.

  If he would not speak of it, he feared her response.

  Unease prickled her scalp. She hugged herself and bit down on the edge of her thumb, trying to stifle fear lurking at the back of her mind.

  The thought of losing Warin and marrying an unknown man struck fear in her heart. She drew in a long, slow breath. Surely, it could not be worse than what many women faced.

  There were only two men in the world she feared.

  Julian of England and Raik of Scotland.

  She shook with a sudden chill.

  CHAPTER 17

  Winter wrapped cold fingers around England's heart, sending snow and ice way beyond what was usual. Had Warin sent his men a week later, they could not have returned to Seton before all travel trickled to a halt.

  Warin's face lost the pinched look he had worn so oft of late. He appeared as if a great load had been taken off his mind. His health improved with each sennight that passed. His chest pains occurred less often, sometimes lapsing for near five days, and his face took on a warmer look.

  Letia was thankful for the heavy snows. Truly. Julian would not venture to harry them through the winter, and she had peace of mind for a time.

  But as the days passed and she was more aware of her body's changes, the fear that Raik would learn of it filled her mind until she was near making herself ill from it. Where before she had only been troubled with a slight sickness of the stomach at dusk, now she could not greet the day without a basin beneath her chin. And she fared no better at nighttime. She fretted that the babe would not thrive, but Maud assured her that Letia's mother had reacted the same way when she was increasing, and she and her sister had been healthy.

  Cold air helped keep her from spewing all she had just eaten. Standing on the wall walk above the barbican, she clutched the heavy wool cloak under her chin and tried to distract herself from that annoying sign of water surging into her mouth.

  "Giles, what are the words to this song? I cannot recall them." She started to hum a tune.

  The squire stomped his feet and slapped his hands on his arms as he thought.

  "Um, something about a prince falling in love with a fair maiden, only to learn on their wedding day she was a witch?" He cleared his throat then sang a few verses. When the last note faded, he looked sheepish and rolled his eyes.

  Letia snuggled her shoes up against Freki's warm body stretched out at her feet. He moved, lifting like a mother hen settling on her eggs. She sighed with the comforting warmth.

  "I agree. 'Tis a stupid song."

  A chilling, guttural sound rumbled from Freki's throat. The hairs stood up on her arms. Had she annoyed him? She looked down. He was slowly coming to his feet, his hackles rising. It was not her feet he objected to. Freki, his body tense, looked like a huge arrow as his eyes looked straight ahead at the hills to their right.

  "What does he see?"

  She cupped her hands beside her eyes to study the snow-covered hillside where the dog stared, his lips lifting in vicious snarls.

  "There, my lady." Giles pointed

  "What fool would be ahorse in this weather?" She squinted and saw a flash of color. "Why, 'tis riders from Hunter Castle. Lord Ranald's lady wife must have given birth. Since he was a twin, and from her size, Lord Ranald expects there will be two babes!"

  "Is that not Sir Raik in the lead? He wore the very same shade of blue last year when we were at Raptor Castle."

  "Aye, Giles."

  Undecided, Letia waited. Should she stand still and hope he would not spot her? But if she did, how would she get back to the tower and her chambers once he was inside the castle grounds?

  "Come."

  Taking Gile's arm, she hurried to the stone steps leading down to the gatehouse. Freki bounded ahead of her, adding urgency to her cautious steps.

  "Tell the guards not to open the gate just yet. When you see me enter the keep, count to twenty and then have them raise the portcullis."

  What a fool she felt, scurrying across the bailey like a child playing hide and find! At least she had a clear path, for when Freki was about, everyone scattered giving him plenty of open ground.

  "Maud," she called out as she rushed through the great hall, "find the baron and ask him to tend me in the solar."

  By the time she reached the sanctuary of their chambers, she was out of breath. Hiding in the shadows by the window opening, she watched as Raik galloped across the drawbridge and into the bailey. She noted the snow collected on the men's horses and felt sorry they'd had to wait outside the gates. Sorry for the men and their horses, that is. Not their leader.

  Warin hurried into the room with Maud following close behind. Concern shadowed his eyes.

  "What is it, beloved?"

  "Naught, my love. Raik has arrived, and I am sure it is to give us news of Ranald's wife. Tell him I am abed with a cold. He must not see me. Even in a heavy cloak, he would spy my rounded body and know I am increasing."

  "I will handle it." Warin hugged her shoulders and kissed her cheek. "Mmm, you are like ice. I may not have to lie, if you do not get yourself warmed."

  o0o

  'Twas true, Raik had arrived with news of Catalin's new babes, a lusty boy and a dainty little girl.

  For the next several days, Letia watched from various hiding places as Raik followed the women below as if he were tied to them with unseen thread.

  Even while he ate, he studied them as if he pictured their size beneath their garments. How disgusting. When he was up and moving about, he ambled over and engaged his prey in speech, leaning close like the woman spoke so softly he could not hear. But even more puzzling, she had watched as he approached women from behind, his nose near burrowing into the tresses at the back of their neck!

  She and Maud compared what they had seen. Each of the women Raik selected was about the same in height and age, and he had loomed nea
r enough to brush up against them. More than one girl giggled and wriggled like a happy puppy. No doubt, they had chill bumps from his hot breath panting down their necks.

  'Twas disgusting.

  His tarse drove the man.

  She nibbled on her thumb, fretting.

  More than once, she sensed he was outside the solar even before Freki growled and warned her. When she motioned the dog to stand by the entrance, the beast snarled enough to make any man a fool if he did not turn tail and leave.

  Knowing they would hear from Hunter Castle, Letia had written a formal letter to accompany two small silver cups engraved around the sides with baby animals of the forest. She and Maud had sewn sleeping gowns, blankets and clothing for the expected twins. Inside one dainty garment, she secured a second note telling Catalin that she was increasing. A smile lifted her lips, knowing how pleased her friend would be for her.

  Each morn when she awoke, Maud was by her side, a small basin in her hands. After she had wiped Letia's face with a cold cloth, she handed her a hunk of freshly baked bread. If she was very careful not to move too soon, she was able to keep it down.

  Always she asked Maud the same question. "Has he gone?"

  After the sixth day, she relaxed back on her pillows and smiled.

  "Thank the heavens. I feared the dratted man would start trailing after the goose girls, the laundresses and the cook's helpers. Heaven knows he lurked after every woman in the keep."

  Maud bustled around the room, gathering Letia's clothing for the day. She turned, her brows near meeting in the middle.

  "Aye, Goda has been right puzzled by him. After all his following women about, he took none to his bed."

  That surprised Letia. She had never heard of such a lusty male denying himself bed sport.

  "You gave him the clothing to deliver to Lady Catalin?"

  Maud bobbed her head. "Wrapped in leather and tied securely against the weather."

  "He did not ask what it was?"

  "Had no need. I told him 'twas for the little ones and he was to be careful of it." Maud sighed.

  Letia tilted her head and studied the old woman's dreamy expression.

  "Oh, nay. Do not tell me you are smitten by his pretty face. For shame, Maud. The man is a swine-nosed churl who believes a woman's place is at his feet."

  "Aye. And 'tis pretty feet he has, too." She looked up at the ceiling, rolled her eyes and grinned. "All of him be right comely, come to think on it. At least all that I could see without turning the man over in his sleep."

  "Maud!"

  "Well, I was tempted. From what I saw when he strutted around with a drying cloth, his back looked equally as honed as his front. I never saw his nether cheeks. Saw his great, dangling stones, though, when he bent over." She giggled and blushed like a young woman.

  o0o

  Raik had been gone from Seton a sennight when Warin summoned Letia to his solar. After he seated her in a comfortable, curved chair covered with a blanket taken from the warming stand, he silently handed her a parchment from several documents spread out on his table.

  She looked up, her eyes filled with questions.

  "Read. You will see."

  Her gaze scanned down to find the royal signature. King Stephen. Was this, then, the answer to what Warin had asked of the king?

  She swallowed, and swallowed again. She became impatient with the flowery language in the formal beginning and skipped to the heart of it. Hm. Warin had asked about Raik of Raptor Castle's parentage.

  "What does Sir Raik's father have to do with us?"

  "I would know the grandsire of my heir, Beloved."

  Frowning, she put the parchment in her lap. Did he seek to reassure her she was carrying a child whose parentage was equal to theirs, even if his father was a bastard? Surely that was the reason and no other? Seeing the hesitation in his eyes, her hands clutched the missive knowing it had something to do with her.

  "Beloved, we must face what is to come."

  "You are much improved. I know you are. Perchance the worst is over and your health has returned."

  "For how long? This winter's storms have isolated us. They have kept troubles from our gates. The peace without has allowed me to rest, but once the weather permits, troubles will all too often come charging over the hills."

  "Mayhap not."

  Letia hugged her rounded belly and thrust her chin high.

  "You lie to yourself, Beloved."

  Warin watched her, hating what he had to do. Had there been another way he could secure her safety, he would have taken it. But he could not trust in chance. He squared his jaw and forced himself not to waver.

  "I have been much at peace since we..." When he saw her tilt her head in question, he explained. "Stephen, David and myself. We have finalized our agreement."

  "What agreement would involve both kings?"

  "The matter of the next baron of Seton."

  "You are..."

  "The next, Letia. The next. Raik's father acknowledging him now makes it possible for King Stephen to settle lands on him. To have him hold a castle under the king's name."

  Her face went still. She swallowed and took a deep breath. He'd best come right out with it.

  "Stephen and David agree that Raik of Raptor Castle should be the next baron of Seton."

  She started. Her hands clenched in her lap.

  "Nay!"

  He rose and stood before her.

  "Aye. You will. He is an honorable man who will take care of you and all here."

  Her hand flew up to cover her mouth. She pressed herself against the chair's back.

  "How can I wed him? He dislikes me. If ever he learns 'tis his child, he may well throttle me."

  "Mayhap he will never suspect. We look much alike. He need never know, Letia."

  "He will know. I have heard of how he learns a person's thoughts just by looking into their eyes. And when I do chance to meet his gaze, he will know. I may as well come out and shout, 'I seduced you! I stole your babe to save Seton.'" She gulped and wrung her hands. "I cannot, Warin."

  He sighed and leaned forward to brace his hands on her chair's arms.

  "You must. Stephen wants Northumbria to wed with Scotland. He needs peace between the two countries. And Symon de Mortimer has been his lifetime friend. He requested that his son be given lands in Northumbria."

  "There are other lands he can have. Surely some other men could also deserve the honors?"

  "Aye. There are."

  "There are other manors, too. Why must Raik have this one?" She was so rigid he feared she was about to cry.

  "Because Stephen decided it was to be so."

  He stood back and folded his arms across his chest. Letia jumped up, spilling the parchments from her lap.

  "Wife! I have agreed."

  His voice thundered through the room. Never had he used that tone to her.

  Letia started, looking surprised. Hurt.

  He had no choice. If she kept fighting the idea, she would make herself ill.

  "Would you rather be under Julian of Chatton's thumb?"

  His voice was as cold as he could make it. Resignation began to cloud her eyes. Her head lowered until her chin near touching her chest.

  "Raik is a young man. A strong man." His voice softened. "He will protect you against Julian and men like him. And you will have the added protection of the Black Raptor."

  Letia gave a slight shrug, lifting her gaze to stare past his shoulders at the far wall.

  "By wedding Raik, you will become part of Ranald's family. Cousin to him and Catalin. Of all the men you could wed, this one Scotsman brings more protection than anyone else in the kingdom."

  A shudder racked her as she took a deep breath.

  "Accustom yourself to it, Letia. The king has decreed Raik will receive Seton—with or without you."

  His chest ached for her. Pained.

  'Twas a different pain from that within his beating heart. Anguish filled his soul.

  F
reki stirred. Lifted his head. His eyes met Warin's as the beast's voice rose in a long, mournful howl.

  CHAPTER 18

  After leaving Seton and his futile search for his unknown lover, irritation snapped through Raik making his ears throb and his skin so sensitive it prickled. As if he could dispel his bad mood, he kicked small rocks and debris from the cobblestones and stomped up the stone steps, his boots ringing out as if some giant invaded Hunter Castle's keep.

  He burst into the great hall and slammed his sword and scabbard on the first table within reach.

  "Satan's puckered arse!"

  Ranald looked up, his brows arched. "What sparked yer temper, cousin?"

  "Letia de Burgh. Who else?"

  "Nay. Dinna tell me ye were so foolish as to..."

  "Of course not. Do ye think me an eejit?" He stopped to toss two bundles down in front of Ranald.

  "What is this?"

  "Gifts for the bairns. Maud said I was to put this one in Catalin's hand." He shoved the larger package wrapped in leather forward. "I am too soiled with travel to go above, so yer hand will do."

  He yanked off his helm and held it, his hands twitching with the need to slam it against the stone walls. He would have, too, but seeing Ranald's father leaning back balancing his chair on its back legs grinning at him, he stopped. No doubt, Laird Broccin would be pleased to have him give a display of temper as bad as his own.

  He placed the helm on the table, satisfied with the clatter it made. Not as satisfied as if he'd hurled it, but still more then if he'd handed it to a squire.

  "I rode straight up to Seton's barbican and demanded entrance."

  "De Burgh turned ye away?" Broccin's chair slammed back on the floor with his surprise.

  "Nay. But it took long enough for them to raise the portcullis whilst I sat there with my arse freezing to the saddle. It had rained," he said in way of explanation.

  "So?"

  "It was that woman's doings. Warin's greeting was hearty enough when he learned I had come to give them news of your bairns. His wife never showed her face. He claimed a winter cold kept her confined to bed."

  "Ah. I begin to understand. Ye are in a temper because yer arse freezing to the saddle was caused by Letia having a cold?"