Draco A Medieval Scottish Roma - Jayne Castel Page 0,49

wet cobbles.

Gavina mounted the stairs to the walls and emerged to find the ramparts eerily still. The outlines of cloaked and helmeted men stood out against the glow of braziers.

Moving carefully, Gavina picked her way along the wall, stepping over chunks of rubble that littered it—the aftermath of the day’s siege. Farther on, her gaze alighted on the silhouettes of trebuchets. At this hour, the wall seemed to be slumbering, ready to awake with the dawn.

Up ahead, she spied a tall figure.

Even though she couldn’t see his face, Gavina knew it was Draco. There was something about the way he carried himself that made him stand apart from other men. As she approached him, her gaze settled upon his profile.

Draco stared out into the night, his expression grim. He looked like a man holding court with the grim reaper.

“Draco,” she said softly, jolting him out of his reverie.

Draco turned swiftly and moved forward, looming over her. “Gavina? What are you doing up here?”

The soft light of the brazier behind them cast deep shadows over his sharp features. It made him look even more intimidating than usual. Gavina stared up at him and reminded herself that this was the man she’d wed that morning—the man she’d given her body to.

Otherwise, the fierce expression upon his face would have terrified her.

“I was looking for ye,” she replied. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it seemed to carry nonetheless. There was a brooding atmosphere upon the walls tonight. Darkness shrouded the castle, but Longshanks was ever watchful, camped on the cliffs opposite ready to strike with the rising sun.

“It’s dangerous up here,” he growled back. “You shouldn’t come up on the walls.”

Gavina’s spine stiffened. Her time as Lady of Dunnottar was drawing to a close. However, tonight she still ruled this keep, and she wouldn’t be spoken to like an errant child. She wasn’t goose-witted—she would never have come up here in daylight while the walls were being pelted with missiles.

“I haven’t seen ye since this morning,” she replied, ignoring his comment. “And I wondered how things have gone.” She stepped closer, lowering her voice further. “Is it broken?”

He stared down at her. This close, Draco smelled of smoke. Fatigue etched the sharply handsome lines of his face, and his eyes were hollowed. It didn’t look like the face of a man who’d spent the afternoon celebrating his freedom. As such, it came as little surprise to Gavina when he shook his head.

Nonetheless, her belly clenched, disappointment arrowing through her. It wasn’t for herself, but for him—and for her friends.

She’d done all she could to help them. But it hadn’t been enough.

“Why?” she whispered.

“I don’t know.”

“But I thought—”

“We all did,” he cut her off tersely. “Go back inside, Gavina … it’s getting late.”

Mouth flattening, Gavina took a step back from him. Aye, they were wed, but he wasn’t her master.

She wouldn’t be ordered around like a hound.

Instead, she turned to the west and approached the edge of the walls, her gaze sweeping over what lay beyond.

The glow of the English encampment lit up the sky, turning it a deep shade of indigo, rather than black.

Like Dunnottar, it was quiet. There were no sounds of revelry or drunken voices drifting across the steep gully that lay between the castle and the cliff-top.

Edward Longshanks wasn’t celebrating his victory just yet. His men had taken Dunnottar once, but all those who lay siege to this fortress ended up cursing its defensive position, perched upon a rocky outcrop, at the top of a steep defile.

Edward would take the castle in the end, but his army would be depleted and exhausted when he did.

And so, the camp before her slumbered.

As she stood there, looking west, Gavina was aware of Draco stepping up to her shoulder. Even before this morning, she’d always been conscious of his presence. But now that they’d lain together, the awareness of him made her breathing quicken and her skin prickle.

“Maybe it’s too soon,” she whispered after a long pause. “Perhaps ye and I need to spend some time together before the curse will break?”

Her cheeks warmed as she said these words. She hoped he didn’t think she was keen to pass days in his company—she wasn’t. However, they’d taken things this far. They might as well do the whole thing properly.

“A ceremony and a bedding isn’t enough?” he asked, bitterness lacing his voice.

Gavina’s cheeks warmed further. She was glad the darkness hid it. “Evidently not.” She turned to him then, raising her