Chapter Three
Ty watched his wife scurry around the room, tidying up the floor and driving dust balls into a pan. The past few days had been bliss for him. Since that day in the cottage, she had relaxed somewhat. She was not completely at ease, yet neither did she seem like she would flit away at the slightest disturbance.
Except when they were in this room.
Even if he was not touching her, he could feel her tense whenever she entered, and she was as wary as a trapped bird while she was there. Their love-making was not the passionate tumble of that day. Instead, her demeanor was that of someone standing on the edge of a cliff, preparing to jump to their doom. Again he wondered what her husband had done to her and wished the man were alive so he could kill him.
His wife had come to mean a lot to him since his return. His wife. Ty smiled. He love the way that felt on his lips. So much more than the comely wench he had expected to find. Her biting sarcasm could cut a man off at the knees. He had seen her get more work out of his soldiers than he had witnessed from them during months of living rough in France. But there was no mistaking the succor she gave to his people. She could comfort a crying child, lend support to a grieving widow and manage his household staff with little more than a word and an appropriate expression. She lightened the mood whenever she came around. Her sense of humor had even piqued old Angus the pig farmer. It was reported he never so much as cracked a smile except for the laird's wife.
His heart softened as he watched her. Ye need never fear another man, a ghrá, not as long as I draw breath. It shocked him at times, how much he cared for her, how much he wanted to please her. He flushed each time she smiled, even though her face had yet to light up on his account. He vowed to change that.
"There seems a mighty draft in this room. D' ye feel it?"
She turned startled eyes to him. "A draft?" She glanced around, her lip turned up slightly as she surveyed the room. "Shall I add wood to the fire?"
He shrugged and continued dressing. "I would prefer another room, I think. One not so isolated from the rest of the castle." He watched closely for her reaction.
At first she gave none. Was her surprise so great? Her shoulders slumped a little and the worry lines etching her beautiful face softened. "A different room?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
He pulled on his boots and stomped them on the floor, driving down his heel and cramming his toes deeper inside. He winced at the pain. He had to have new boots made.
"Unless you prefer this one. It does give us much privacy." He waggled his brows at her but failed to illicit the light-hearted response he had hoped for.
She shook her head vigorously. "Not at all. The old solar is almost never used. Mrs. Dingwell stores linens in there, I believe. It would make a lovely chamber for the laird of the castle. Should I have Mrs. Dingwell start fixing it up for you?"
Her excitement grew as she talked. Ty was glad. Perhaps once they were settled in the new room she would relax a little, let down her defenses and release the passionate woman he knew she held in check. He gave her his most seductive smile and crossed the room to her.
Taking her in his arms he kissed her long and hard. He could not get enough of kissing her. The feel of her lips. The sweet taste of her, like honey dripping of a slice of freshly baked bread.
He was pleased that she returned his kiss with something akin to desire. It was the first time she had shown such enthusiasm since they day they visited the dilapidated cottage. He made a mental note to seek out other things that would please her.
He pulled away reluctantly. "I cannot linger, a ghrá. I promised Angus I see to the building of a new pig sty. I look forward to spending this night in our new room. You will see to the details?" She nodded up at him, her mouth turning up at one corner in a half-smile that made his heart melt.
He had to leave before he tossed reason to the wind and spent the remainder of the day in bed with her. Old Angus could wait. He appeased himself with thoughts of coming home to her, his wife, and sleeping with her nestled in his arms, wrapped in the bed clothes beneath the roof of their new room. One they would share. It would be the beginning of a new life for them.
As happened every time he let himself imagine the happiness they would share, worrisome thoughts of his father and his plan to become laird of Clan Munro seeped into his musings. How was he going to save Kenna's family and prevent an all-out war? The gathering was little more than a fortnight away. He was running out of time and thus far, no suitable plan had come to him.
Other than slipping away and killing the old man under the darkness of night. But even that would be blamed on the Clearys. He needed to come up with a plan to redirect his father from his diabolical scheme. If his sister was to marry the Munro's son, her offspring would become laird. Somehow, Ty had to convince his father to be satisfied that his own grandson would one day be laird of Clan Munro. Ty's children would rise high among the ranks of clan Mackintosh, as well, thanks to Kenna's lineage.
And best of all, there would be peace between the clans for the first time in living memory.
Ty shook his head. Solutions were abundant but no path was forth-coming. It gave him a headache to think about it. He kissed the tip of her nose. "I look forward to sleeping," he kissed her lips, "or not sleeping," he winked at her, "in the love-nest you will create for us this day." She blushed all the way to the tips of her ears, making him laugh as he limped across the floor.
Just as he reached the door, he turned back at a muffled sound from her. She watched him, arms crossed, her tongue pressed to the inside of her cheek, suspicion and doubt riddling her features.
"Leg botherin' ye, m'laird? Or did ye're boots shrink while ye were away?"
***
Kenna stretch like a cat waking from a nap, tangling herself among the rumpled bedclothes and refusing to open her eyes. If she kept them closed a little longer, she could pretend she did not have so much work to do. Perhaps Mrs. Dingwell would allow her to stay abed.
She reached over, disappointed to find her husband already gone. He had said he would rise early to help the men with the new gate house. She was surprised the disturbance did not wake her. She was a light sleeper most nights, but she supposed after their exuberant bedplay the night before…
Kenna buried her face in her pillow. She should be embarrassed by her wanton enthusiasm. Since Ty had moved out of his old room a sennight ago, she had held little in reserve, showing more and more fervor each night they spent together. Her relief at being out of his chamber of horror was that liberating. He had even gone so far as the seal up the corridor that led to it. She had been touched by his efforts. She still did not trust him, but for the first time in five years, she could envision a happy future, not one filled with dread.
She pulled his pillow against her chest, inhaling his scent. Her heart fluttered inside her chest, giving her a little thrill. She wished he had slept in this morning, as well.
What an odd thought. A week ago she considered killing her husband with her own hand. Now she actually longed for his company, anticipating the time they would spend together at the end of the day. He would come in from whatever project he had been working on, seeking her out immediately before hunting down his wayward daughter, who was never where she was supposed to be. Thank God for Mrs. Dingwell. Otherwise Isla might be lost and never seen or heard from again.
Aye, things had certainly changed at Vass Castle. The people were so much more relaxed, she and Mrs. Dingwell had to keep after everyone to see that all the work was done. And there was so much to do. There had not been a gathering in years, and nothing in the way of fun at Vass Castle since…well, ever.
Add to that the fact that this would be the first gathering of Clan Munro that included members of Clan Mackintosh. Everyone was so excited, it was hard to get any work out of them at all. Again she realized how much she relied on Mrs. Dingwell. The woman could light a fire under the laziest youth or the most stubborn old man. The woman knew how to get people moving.
Kenna groaned and hugged Ty's pillow tighter. The housekeeper would be lighting her fire if she did not get up and put herself to work. Still…if she could allow herself a few more minutes….
…a few more minutes to think about her husband. Her husband. She wondered again how a man could change so much. The only similarity was his appearance. Yet even that was vague at times. The patch he wore over his eye hid much of his face making it difficult to recall the evil visage of the man who had stood next to her at her marriage. Her relief at finding Ty Vass a virile young man, his appearance more than pleasant, had been quickly shattered by his brutal treatment of her on their wedding night.
His stature was the same. His hair, night-black waves that fell in a sheet down his back, was also unchanged. The size of his man part was definitely bigger. Did a man continue to grow after reaching adulthood? Kenna could not say, but perhaps it was possible. He had had to commission new boots because the only ones he had that fit were the ones he had worn on the journey home.
No, there was something more, something he was hiding from her. He was different on the inside. He showed genuine concern for everyone, always greeting his vassals with a kind word, a complement or praise for a job well done. He took time to laugh with the children, or teach the young lads the ways of men, demonstrating a technique with the sword or the best way to handle a horse. He teased Mrs. Dingwell so much she now blushed whenever he entered the room. His easy way with Isla, his ready smile, warmed Kenna's heart.
What had happened to him while he was in France? Had the horrors of war made him recognize his own brutality? Had he faced death and vowed to change his ways if God spared him? Unlikely. Mayhap he had met a woman.
The thought of her husband with another woman ignited a different kind of fire within her. Fury, rage, and she was surprised to admit, jealously. Emotions she would never have expected to feel over the infidelity of Ty Vass.
Could this man be an imposter?
Her eyes shot open. Could that be it? She thought harder, trying to narrow her suspicion. The patch over his eye…she tried to recall if she had seen him without it since his return. He kept it firmly in place at all times, except when he slept. Even then, he did not take it off until all the candles had been extinguished and the room was bathed in darkness.
She needed a trap. She immediately questioned that idea. If the man who shared her bed was truly an imposter, did she really want to know? There was no doubt that she was better off, everyone was. Could God have answered her prayers and smote her husband on the battlefield, sending her a guardian angel to take his place? If He did, who was she to question His will?
Would her own curiosity allow her to ignore her suspicions? Doubtful.
Kenna rose with new determination. Tossing back the covers, she padded naked across to the window and opened the shutters. Morning light streamed in along with a chilly breeze. She grabbed a robe and pulled it around her shoulders then, leaning against the window embrasure, she searched the courtyard for the distinct form of her husband.
When she spotted him, her heart tripped. He had to be an imposter, for she had never felt about her husband the way she felt about this man.
***
Two days before guests were expected to start arriving, Ty finished the gate house. He stood with his men, surveying the work. He noted the workmanship, the refinements they had made. He issued praise where it was justified and noted possible problems they would need to keep an eye on.
But his thoughts were elsewhere. He had not seen Kenna even though it was already past noon. Today was his wife’s birthday, and he had a special surprise for her.
The final inspection complete at last, he rushed back to the keep. Mrs. Dingwell had promised to have him a bath waiting, so he wasted no time getting into it before the water grew cold. A hot bath was one luxury he took advantage of every chance he got. As a child living on the streets of Edinburgh, he seldom had a bath at all, much less a hot one. He had first discovered the pleasure of heated water at a brothel outside Paris and vowed to never take a cold one again.
He smiled at the steaming tub as he pushed open the door to his chamber. He stripped naked, leaving a trail of discarded laundry, and stepped into the warm water. He slid below the surface with a contented sigh. He noted the basket of provisions, another gift from Mrs. Dingwell. Bless her. This was going to be a glorious day.
Half an hour later, his day got even better. Kenna walked into the room, filling the space with her presence and stirring the beast in his gut despite the dropping temperature of the water. He was glad his cock was submerged as he was still wary of frightening her, and she seem particularly guarded when it came to his size. He and Ty Vass had been alike in so many other ways. Was their endowment so different?
"We missed you at table, m'laird," she said as she set clean linens on the bed.
He took the drying cloth she handed him and stood. "Aye. The gate house needed a final inspection and now there is even more business to attend. No time for luxuries like eating," he joked.
"Are you off then?"
A prickle of pleasure skittered up the back of his neck at her seeming disappointment. The very idea that she missed him when he was gone warmed him from the inside out. No one had ever missed him. He nodded and pulled her against his damp, naked skin.
Kenna stepped into his arms without hesitation. How far she had come since his return little more than a fortnight ago. There was still a small part of herself she held in check, and she watched him with an air of mistrust a blind man could see. But the fear was gone from her warm brown eyes. When he touched her, she trembled from desire instead of the terror she had shown in the beginning.
Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he eased her away and reached for his discarded kilt. "There are some things I need to take care of in one of the outlying villages. Will you accompany me?"
She look startled. "I…there is much still to do before the guests start to arrive. How long will you be gone?"
"We shall be back by supper tomorrow. Mrs. Dingwell can see to the preparations until then."
She smoothed her hair and glanced around. "I would have to gather some…and change my clothes."
Ty finished dressing and picked up the basket Mrs. Dingwell had left for him. "Yer clothes are fine, a ghrá. Ye're as lovely as a lassie on Bealltainn." He smiled when she blushed. He pulled her cloak from the peg on the wall and, handing her the basket to hold, placed it around her shoulders. He took the basket back from her, grinned at her expression of confusion and held his arm out toward the door. "Shall we?"
***
It was late afternoon by the time they arrived at the cottage. The door was nearly impossible to find amidst the overgrowth, even to one who knew where it was. Ty halted his stallion nearby and helped Kenna down from her own horse.
She eyed him with the suspicion that had been growing steadily since they passed the first village. She had made no comment as they skirted the ramshackle huts, but her cheery prattle had diminished considerably. By the time they passed the second, she had clammed up like a mute and said nary a word. Since leaving the third village behind them, she had made no effort to hide her uncertainty.
Ty would have found her wariness endearing had he not known the source, but at least she did not cower from him in fear. The hate and loathing she had shown at his homecoming was gone, leaving only doubt and caution. He could not be more proud than to have a wife of such strength as Kenna Cleary Vass.
She stood there, looking back and forth from him to the hidden door. "What are we doing here?"
Her voice trembled. Ty ached to soothe her concerns, but nothing he could say would accomplish that. Soon enough she would trust him, and if not sooner, then later.
He smiled and jerked his head toward the mass of brambles that hid the cottage. "I have something for you…inside." He reached through the brush and pushed the door open. Without waiting, he went inside and began lighting candles. By the time she joined him, the room was bathed in a soft glow that revealed a hideaway very different from the one they had visited the last time.
Kenna stopped just inside the threshold, a gasp of surprise the only sound in the small cottage. Ty busied himself starting a fire in the hearth, giving her time to look around. He squatted before the fire, staring at the growing flames. He ached to see her face, to know if she was pleased with what he had done.
He tensed when he felt her behind him. His body was already so hard for her. His craving surprised him at times. He was like a man starved, and she the only sustenance that could satisfy him. His skin tingled when she placed her hand on his shoulder.
"You did this?"
He stood, towering over her and filling the small room. "Lá breithe shona dhuit," he whispered.
She frowned at the phrase. "It's my birthday?" He nodded. She looked around with newfound surprise. "And all this…is for me?"
'All this' was a complete transformation of the sanctuary she had escaped to as a child. Gone were the few pieces of broken furniture, the cobwebs, the decades of dirt and neglect. The place had been scoured until nary a ball of dust remained, even the tiny window allowed in a scant amount of the remaining sunlight. The dilapidated furniture had been replaced with a table, two short stools and a bed frame, a fresh inviting tick atop the floorboards. A bundle of primroses filled a vase in the middle of the table, filling the room with a spicy, comforting fragrance that reminded Ty of spring.
He smiled down at her. "I suppose fairies must have fixed the place up since the last time ye were here." He took her hand and lifted it to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to her palm. "D'ye like it, then?"
Tears sparkled on her lashes, and he could tell she had trouble speaking. He almost laughed. That must be a first. She laid her palm against his cheek, smoothing the patch that covered his eye and staring deep into the other one.
"No one has ever done anything like this for me. Thank you."
He cocked his eyebrow at her, pressing her with his most devilish grin. "I hope ye have some other way of showin' yer thanks?"
She looked up at him from beneath lowered lashes, her lips cocked into a saucy grin. "Ye can bet I do." She sank to her knees, clasping his naked thighs beneath his kilt and running her hands up to squeeze the cheeks of his arse.
Ty sucked in his breath, surprised and delighted. He had not expected such an intimate expression of gratitude. But he welcomed it nevertheless.
Ty groaned in pleasure as she kneaded his backside. Her dainty hands made goose flesh rise on his thighs as she slid the tips of her fingers around the sensitive skin of his hips. He squeezed his good eye shut, afraid of coming too soon. He wanted to savor this, imagine he could stay here with her forever. The vision of her, selfishly pleasuring him, made him yearn, just once, for someone to love him.
She squeezed his shaft in a delicate grip, cupping and kneading his sac with her other hand. She released him and fumbled with the hem of his kilt. It was all he could do not to cry out when she took him into her mouth.
He gasped in shock. No one had ever done this to him before. He held his breath. The pleasure of her warm mouth engulfing his cock, her delicate lips squeezing around him, pulling him deeper and deeper into her, was almost more than he could bear. He had never known it could be like this.
Love for her hit him like a falling boulder. It boiled up in him, the heat so intense he came immediately. To his shock and pleasure, she did not pull away, spewing and gagging as he would have expected. Instead she suckled him, draining him of every drop until he could take no more.
He cupped her cheeks in his hands. She was so vulnerable. What must it have cost her to trust him like this, his brave highland lassie?
She ran her hands up his thighs as she stood, sliding her body up his. Ty dipped his head down to capture her mouth. He slipped his tongue between her lips. He groaned as a possessive yen escaped him. He had never held claim to anything in his life, but this woman was his. He had never wanted anything so badly.
"I love that ye taste of me." He swiped his tongue over her swollen lips. He continued to hold her face in his hands as they stumbled to the bed. Kenna's hands were busy removing her clothing. She was completely naked by the time she bumped the back of her knees against the bed frame and fell back upon it with a tinkling laugh. Ty poised over her, his arms locked on either side, and drank in the glorious sight of her perfect body.
He dropped down and caught a nipple between his lips. It hardened into a tight bud against the roof of his mouth. Kenna groaned, sending a jolt of lust straight to his core. He sank into her.
His throat went dry. Ty did not move, ready to explode inside her, his earlier release not nearly enough to satisfy the lust in his heart for this woman, his woman.
When he had the turmoil under control, he pulled out of her, thrusting back inside and starting a rhythm that had her moaning and calling out his name. He kissed her, pouring out all the passion he'd been missing in all his long lonely life. As he did, he came with such intensity he thought he would go blind.
Kenna's release exploded around him, draining him. He pulled back and stared at her, savoring the first real happiness he had ever known.
His overwhelming passion spent, he was overcome with fear. How would she react to him now that it was all over? Would she once again have that look of mistrust, that look that waited for him to strike?
Or would she look at him in a way no one ever had before?
With love.
***
Kenna lifted her face to the sun, warm for this time of year. The plod of her horse could easily rock her to sleep if she was not careful. She was tired after the exhaustive night of lovemaking she had shared with Ty.
She smiled a shy smile. She had allowed herself to be brazen, to experience the joy of being with a man who was tender, attentive. Selfless. Her heart soared. She tried to squelch it. She remembered a time when she would have been afraid to touch him, for him to touch her. She asked herself again how he could have changed so much but shrugged off her misgivings. Five years was a long time.
She wanted to believe in him. There was so much more to him than the sadistic brute she married or the cockster he now pretended to be. He was raw on the inside, vulnerable. What had happened to crush him so deeply? She sensed soul-wrenching loneliness in him and, despite the past, wanted to fill that void. She wanted to comfort the man he had become, to hold him close and show him the love she was capable of if only he would let her.
The idea startled her so much she had to quickly right her seat before she fell from her horse. Could she ever love him? Kenna slid her gaze to where he rode beside her. She had to catch her breath every time she looked at him. He had grown into such a handsome man. Battle scars did not distract from his rugged features but instead gave him a look of manliness that called to everything in her that was female. Silky, strands of his long hair caught the wind and lifted behind him, tendrils of seduction reaching out for her.
Kenna could see beneath those good looks to the man beneath, and thus far, she liked what she saw.
Aye, she could love this man.
Suddenly, Ty stiffened. He slowed his horse, edging closer to her and scanning the hillocks surrounding them. Before Kenna could question him, they were surrounded by a band of men she did not recognize. Her heart fell as a brush of fear skittered up the back of her neck. She was little relieved that the men were clad in Vass colors. She well knew the propensity for violence sported by her husband's clan. She relaxed somewhat when she spotted a woman among them.
"Greetings cousin," one of the men addressed Ty.
Her husband did not return the greeting, but nodded at each of the men in turn. "A few days early for the gatherin', are ye not?"
"Weel, yer father sent us on ahead to get yer sister settled before the others arrive."
Kenna looked at the woman, Ty’s sister. She recalled her name was Mira, but they had never met. Mira had not been present at her brother’s wedding. Her slight frame remained stiff as sword. She chewed her bottom lip with relentless assault. She had the same dark hair as Ty and bore a striking resemblance to their father. She kept her eyes downcast but glanced up at Kenna for a heartbeat before looking away again.
Kenna saw anxiety in that brief glance and wondered what torment this wisp of a girl had suffered at the hands of her older brother. It could not have been easy growing up a girl in the Vass household. Mira did not know this new Ty. She would only remember him as the bully he surely had been.
Kenna could well understand Mira's unease. Little more than a girl, she seemed small and insignificant among the men who were there to protect her. And a surly looking lot they were, Ty's clansmen.
Kenna shuddered.
Ty pushed his way through them until his stallion drew up alongside Mira's. He stood up in his stirrups and pressed a kiss just above her brow. Mira's eyes very nearly popped right out of her head.
Kenna would have found the scene touching if not for the realization that everyone else's attention was focused on her.
There were eight in all. One of the men spurred his horse to a walk. He did not meet her gaze as he moved around her in a slow arc. Instead he considered her from a distance that did little to make her feel safe. His lecherous grin revealed teeth the color of aged wood.
She jumped when someone else from the group spoke. "I hope the fucking Clearys are no' here yet. If we're t' have a chance in hell -"
The man was quickly shushed with a punch to the shoulder from a nearby comrade and a mumbled, "That's his wife, ye daft bastard."
All eyes turned on her in that instant. The newcomers looked at her with considerably more interest and closed the circle around her.
"She given ye a Cleary bastard yet, Ty? Yer father promised some of us a go once ye had an heir." The man who had been circling her like a hawk over a trapped rabbit drew closer.
Kenna sucked in a sharp breath and looked again to her husband.
Ty gave a quick, disgusted snort and took hold of Mira's horse. "Doona be vulgar. Ye'll not be getting' yer fucking cock anywhere near my wife." He turned and called to the others. "'Tis still an hour's ride to the castle."
He let go of the horse when they reached Kenna. "The two of ye ride on. We'll be right behind."
"But - " Kenna began.
He cut her off with a scathing look. Ty was once again the scowling, frightening man she had married. There was an ugly twist to his mouth she recognized, and resented. He tugged at the sash of his kilt. "Do what I tell ye, Kenna."
She seared him with an equally scathing look before wheeling her horse away and pressing her heels to the mare's flanks.
She surprised herself by her audacity, but disappointment fueled her courage. This entire charade was a ruse to get her to relax her guard. But to what purpose? What were they up to? Was she being over active in her imaginings, or was her husband the ultimate deceiver?
***
They arrived at the castle to find the Clearys already settled. Hackles rose as the warriors of Clan Vass invaded the hall, greeting their new comrades with fake joviality. They were loud, arrogant and genuinely overbearing. The Clearys tossed back seemingly good-natured insults, all the while keeping one hand on the hilt of their swords.
Ty raked a hand through his hair. What next? His plan would never work if these unexpected interferences continued to drive him off course.
He looked around for Kenna and spotted her across the room, caught up greeting cousins she likely had not seen in five years or more.
His heart lurched. His plan could not fail. If it did, Clan Vass would rain down destruction on the Clearys, wiping them out with a single blow.
His wife would be devastated.
He could not let that happen. These past days with her had been like nothing he ever expected to experience. He was determined to bring peace to these lands, and win the heart of his wife.
But he was not a fighter. He was a lover. He would have to deter the bitter feud by cunning and charm.
Easily said when all he really wanted to do was slit his cousin's throat. The man's vulgarity and insult to Kenna were enough to challenge any man's honor. But the content of that insult instilled within him a vision that sent him into a mind-numbing rage. If he had not removed them from that situation, things could have gone very badly.
Keeping his anger in check had been more difficult than he would have thought. He had never known jealousy, intrinsically aware of the danger in allowing it. He had known people who had gone mad coveting what others had.
But as he watched her, a single avowal engulfed him. Kenna was his. Any man who insinuated otherwise would find himself in a pool of his own blood. Whatever happened, Liam Vass would not live to see another spring.
He swallowed his anxiety and pasted on a smile that could subdue a Hun. "Greetings, brethren, and welcome." When he caught Kenna's eye, he inclined his head toward the door. "I'll leave ye all to spread yer blankets here in the hall." He turned and headed to the family's private rooms. Kenna close on his heels.
As soon as he closed the door, she started on him. "What are you hiding?"
He combed his hair back, again, searching for a cord to bind it. "Nothing," he said, moving objects around in his search. He picked up Kenna's brush, found nothing and dropped it with a frustrated sigh.
Kenna came forward and pulled open a drawer. After riffling through a box inside, she stuck a length of leather between her teeth and reached up to gather the mass of hair behind his neck. Dividing it into three sections, she began plaiting it down his back.
"There is something you are not telling me," she said.
Where do I begin? Ty closed his eyes, silently pleading with her not to ask questions. He could not tell her, not now. She still had that look of mistrust about her. He may have made the hopeful assertion, but she wasn't all his.
Not yet.
Soon, however, she would be. When this gathering was over, his sister betrothed to the laird's son, and Kenna's family safely back home, then he would tell her the truth. He could lie to the world, but not the woman he loved. He would trust his fate to her. He only prayed that she was true.
***
Kenna had no sooner secured the knot at the end of his braid than a ruckus erupted in the hall. Pulling his sword from the sheath at his waist, Ty rushed to the door and yanked it open. She could not keep up as he raced ahead of her.
Skidding to a halt at the entrance to the hall, she cried out at the chaos. She did not want to see what she was seeing. Her insides grew cold as horror gripped her. This couldn't be happening.
Her mother's sister's son lay sprawled not far from her. His sightless eyes stared up at the rafters, his entrails a mass on the rushes beside him. More bodies were strewn around the room, most of them wearing Cleary colors.
She backed away, clutching her stomach and keeping one hand over her mouth to stifle the bile that threated to overwhelm her. She turned and fled back the way she had come, praying Isla was in her room.
She burst in. Mrs. Dingwell screamed at the sudden intrusion. She hovered in a corner shielding Isla. She came to her feet as soon as she recognized her. Kenna wasted no time. She scooped Isla up into her arms and secreted her away through a door hidden behind a tapestry, Mrs. Dingwell right behind her.
They ran through the darkness, Kenna cradling her daughter and choking back tears. He had betrayed her, lured her family here for slaughter. She swallowed hard. How could she have been such a fool? A person would have to be daft to believe another could change so much.
She coughed on a sob and pushed through the secret door a quarter mile from the castle. They broke out into the shadows of dusk, their escape hidden by the hillocks surrounding Castle Vass. She looked back, pausing at the top of a knoll and hugging Isla tight. She let her tears come freely now, anger turning to disappointment. Nearly a month ago, she had watched him ride over these hills, dreading every heartbeat that brought him closer.
He made her believe he was changed. She believed because she desperately wanted to.
But it was all a ruse. Her dream was shattered. She brushed away her tears. She would not mourn for a lie. She turned and headed for the trees, leaving Mrs. Dingwell to keep up as best she could. Kenna would try to intercept any other members of her clan before they crossed into Vass lands. Otherwise she and Isla would be all that was left of the Clearys.