Pendragon (Sherbrooke Brides 7)

“How old are you now?”

“I am nineteen. That would give us two years of bliss before you croaked it.”

He stared at her, as if she were, Meggie thought, some strange bird that had just dropped out of the sky, as if he didn’t know whether to shoot her or stroke her feathers. Then he laughed, threw back his head and laughed and laughed.

Meggie just looked at this beautiful man, and now that he was laughing, he looked more than beautiful, he looked dazzling, surrounded by overgrown yew bushes, a watery sun shining down on his head.

“I understand that Libby isn’t at all certain that you are serious about admiring her.”

He was still grinning when he said, “That’s true. But we will see, won’t we?”

“You will, certainly. What do you want, Lord Kipper? You are certainly far afield from the castle as well as far afield from your own home.”

“I heard that someone struck you on the head. You saw absolutely nothing at all?”

“I heard some harsh breathing when the thunder had just boomed and the lightning had just lit up the bedchamber, and I saw a shadow of someone, wearing black. Nothing more. Why? Were you the one in my bedchamber, Lord Kipper?”

That remark sent one of his perfectly slanted eyebrows straight up. “I? No, my dear, I was sleeping, as I recall, in the arms of a very pleasant young woman in Cork.”

“I did ask, didn’t I?” Meggie looked heavenward.

“Yes, you did. You are not at all what I would expect from a vicar’s daughter.” He paused, his eyes darkened. “Thomas doesn’t deserve to be a widower when he is so young.”

Meggie laughed, just couldn’t help herself. “Indeed he doesn’t. You have been a terror, haven’t you, sir?”

“Oh yes,” he said, and looked around. “I am still able to, thank God.” He looked about for a moment, then pointed. “There was a lovely old bench here at one time. It’s quite a mess, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Ah, there’s the bench, but it’s very dirty.”

“No matter.” Lord Kipper pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket and wiped off the bench. “Do sit down, my lady.”

Meggie sat.

“Does your head hurt?”

“Just a bit now. Do you know what is happening here at Pendragon, sir?”

“Call me Niles. No, I don’t.”

“Someone tried to kill me. I’ve only been here two days. Surely that’s too short a time to make anyone hate me enough to crack open my head. I have been thinking about this. Someone knew I was coming and because I was me—Meggie Sherbrooke—I was hated enough for that someone to want to kill me. Does that make sense?”

“You mean,” Lord Kipper said slowly, looking deeply into her Sherbrooke blue eyes, “that someone hated you before they even met you?”

“Or hated my family perhaps. Or the person believed Thomas would be with me, only he wasn’t. I am very worried that this person is after Thomas, not me.”

“I also heard that Madeleine wants you pregnant, by tomorrow if that’s possible. She was even mumbling about putting an aphrodisiac in your tea. She even asked me to give you advice on how to seduce Thomas if he tired after only one or two encounters.”

Meggie nearly fell off the bench she was so shocked. “I—sir, you can’t speak like that, surely. An aphrodisiac? You’re making that up just to make me turn red and stutter.”

“Oh no. Thomas’s mother, you know, she’s always told me everything, asked my advice endlessly, even things I had no interest in. She is single-minded, is Madeleine.”

“Have you been her lover, too?”

“Of course.”

Meggie slowly got to her feet. Her head was pounding. She felt light-headed. The morning sun had disappeared behind a mass of soft gray clouds. It would rain soon.

He was beside her in an instant. “Meggie, lean against me. I can see you’re not well.”