Page 103 of Bound to a Warrior
Chapter 30
Mercy settled in a small room on the third floor after the tour of the keep was cut short. She had tried to show interest, but Mara, being as astute as she was, suggested that perhaps the tour was better left for another day. She had then brought Mercy to this pleasant room. Two wood chairs faced the hearth that kept the room toasty warm and a large chest sat between them, several candles sitting atop. A basket of embroidery sat to the side of one chair and Mara had explained that this was where she snuck off to on occasion.
It was her place of solitude, a place where she simply could be and not let anything disturb her.
Mercy appreciated the time alone. She truly needed to think. She needed to find an answer to her dilemma, though if she were honest with herself she would realize that there was only one conceivable answer.
She would have no choice but to trade herself for Bailey’s wife.
She would have never believed herself capable of such decisive action. Things had always been determined for her. It was the way of things, meant, she supposed, to protect her. But since sharing this unexpected journey with Duncan, she realized she had grown strong and somewhat self-sufficient.
Duncan had given her that and more, and while she would have much preferred to remain here in the safety of his arms, she couldn’t.
And it wasn’t only Bailey’s wife who concerned her. It was Duncan’s family as well. She feared for their safety no matter how Duncan and his brothers tried to reassure her. She might not know her father all that well, but she knew enough to know that while he had shown her kindness, he had also shown his wrath. There was no trusting the man.
And with his sovereignty threatened, he would certainly do whatever was necessary to retain his power.
Briefly, very briefly she considered telling Duncan about Bailey and letting him help her sort it out. But on closer consideration she knew that in the end, if there was no other choice, he would not allow her to be traded for Bailey’s wife. And she would never be able to live with the fact that her father had killed a woman simply because his daughter had refused to return to him.
Besides, what future did she truly have with Duncan? She certainly could dream of one, but that was all it would ever be—a dream.
He had a mission, and her fate had been decided the day she had been born the bastard daughter of the king.
And like her father she was no fool. She would find Bailey and give him a message to give the soldiers. If they wanted her to return with them, they would have to bring his wife to the meeting place. There the exchange would be made, otherwise there would be no exchange.
The one last thing she would do was to ask Bailey to deliver a message to Duncan. She wanted him to know why she had made the decision she did and that she loved him and always would.
Tears pooled in her eyes and she laughed as she wiped them away before they could fall. Her mother had been right about love. It brought tears, pain and suffering, but she would not have given up knowing and loving Duncan for anything. She would suffer it all again, without hesitation.
She rested her head back against the chair and allowed her eyes to drift close. She wanted a few moments of quiet and peace before she went to find Bailey and meet her fate.
When he was finally finished in the solar, Duncan went in search of Mercy. The sudden look of worry that had flashed across her face at breakfast had haunted him the whole time he had been talking with his brothers and father. Something had suddenly troubled her, where only before she had been smiling. He wanted to know what had intruded on her thoughts, robbing her not only of her smile, but her peace of mind.
He covered a good portion of the keep and couldn’t find her, so he looked for his mother.
He found her in the kitchen talking with Etty, or rather arguing. The two could never agree on anything, and if truth be told, he knew his father much preferred that she leave Etty alone as did he and his brothers.
Etty was the god of food to them and you didn’t mess with a god.
“I’ll be making what I’ve planned and that’s that,” Etty said as he approached.
“But Carmag mentioned to me how much he likes roasted boar—”
“And he’ll be getting it soon enough, but not today,” Etty declared, kneading the dough with white-hard knuckles.
“I want it cooked today,” Mara said.
“And I want it to taste its best and that won’t be until tomorrow.”
“Well, place the meat closer to the flames,” Mara demanded.
That was all Duncan needed to hear. He wasn’t about to suffer through charred meat, which happened when his mother decided to cook herself. Something he, his brothers and father had no desire to experience ever again.
“Mum, I need your help,” he said, walking over to her and slipping his arm around her shoulder.
She smiled at him and he easily guided her out of the kitchen. And from the huge smile and nod Etty sent him, he knew he’d be well rewarded.
“What is it you need, love?” she asked.
