Free Circle of Honor by Carol Umberger Page A

braid lay across her shoulder, disappearing beneath the cover. He wanted to touch it—to feel the texture instead of imagining it.
    Stop. He must not look upon her without reminding himself of the lie that had bound them together. And touching was out of the question.
    For a moment he considered his conversation with Nathara and his decision to honor the vows with Gwenyth. Surely he held no warmth toward her. But a man whose fighting ability was questionable had only his word to show for his honor.
    His word was all he had, and by God’s grace, he would not forfeit it.

SIX
    G WENYTH LAY QUIETLY, aware of Adam’s presence by her bed. She could not bear any more of his concern and kept her eyes closed, feigning sleep, until she heard the door close behind him. The shutters had been drawn in the chamber and a single candle burned on the table next to her bed. Adam’s mother sat by the large stone fireplace, gazing into the flames.
    The serenity of the scene did not penetrate Gwenyth’s spirit. Waves of despair washed over her and her teeth chattered despite the fire and the warm bedding. Her body ached all over, but the worst was her heart. What once had felt warm and expectant now felt cold and empty.
    Leod had stolen her innocence. Aye, though she would not admit as much to Adam, she knew it was Leod. And because of him she would never invite any man’s touch; to do so might unleash such a beast once again.
    More likely, no man would want her now, especially not one as kind and good as Adam. Or Edward. Oh, Edward. What will I do now?
    At least she need worry no longer about a babe; her courses had come as she had hoped they would. But despite that welcome news, hopelessness filled her, and she craved the oblivion of sleep. A sob escaped, and Eva hurried to her side. In her shame Gwenyth could not look the woman in the eye.
    â€œThere now, lass,” Eva crooned, stroking the hair back from Gwenyth’s face much as her own mother might have. “You are safe now from everything but your own fears.”
    Gwenyth closed her eyes as tears rolled down her cheeks. Her mother was only recently buried, her father and brothers dead at Bruce’s hand or in battle against him. Who knew where Daron was? Alone—unloved, unlovable, abandoned even by her God— she bowed to despair. Shunning Eva’s condolence, she wanted nothing more than the privacy to grieve for all she’d lost.
    As her world spun out of control, she searched frantically for something to hold fast to. Something to anchor her in the tempest that threatened to destroy her sanity. And out of the chaos, out of the pain, came a bright guiding light of kindness and hope.
    She found Adam’s smile.
    ADAM STOOD OUTSIDE his father’s chamber, preparing himself for the sight of his once-robust sire, now reduced to a bedridden old man. His knock was met with a surprisingly hardy “Come in.”
    Angus sat propped up in his bed. The swelling of his hands and face was less noticeable, and for a brief moment, Adam allowed himself to hope that Nathara was wrong about the condition of his father’s heart.
    â€œYou’re looking fit today,” he said.
    â€œAye, and feeling fit too. Come, lad. Bide awhile and tell me of yer visit to Macpherson.”
    Adam sat on the stool next to the bed and took a deep breath. “It did not go as planned.”
    â€œHe challenged ye outright? Already?”
    Adam hesitated—he must tread carefully. Nathara had warned them not to allow Angus to become upset. But he knew his father hated to be treated like an invalid as much as Adam hated keeping things from him.
    â€œCome, lad. ’Tis not likely I’ll leap from my bed and beat ye over bad news.”
    Chuckling at that image, Adam replied, “Aye, he challenged me. But his plan miscarried.”
    As Adam debated the best way to tell his father about Gwenyth, his father scowled.
    â€œAll right, Da, I’ll