Page 16 of Wolfehound (De Wolfe Pack Generations #11)

Liam was finished talking to the man because it was clear he had no intention of being reasonable at the moment.

He was too angry for that. Better that they part ways and cool their anger before something was said that they would both regret.

Collecting his belts, weapons, sword, and dog, in that order, he took a step in Carlton’s direction.

“Nothing happened, nor was anything going to happen,” he muttered. “But if I ever see you strike her again in anger, I will kill you.”

With that, he left the solar, heading out into the entry beyond and leaving Carlton with a distinct feeling that Liam meant what he’d said.

Every word of it.

Liam the squire had grown up because, by damn, Carlton believed him.

*

She’d never been so embarrassed in her entire life.

The tears were flowing as Cambria sat in the yard with her dogs.

It was bad enough that her father had spanked her, but even worse that he’d done it in front of a witness.

Liam, of all people. Carlton had spanked her as if she were a silly little girl, not a grown woman.

Well, she was a grown woman, but maybe Liam wouldn’t see her that way now.

Why should he be proud to marry a woman who got spanked like a child?

But it was more than that.

Carlton had behaved in a way she’d never seen before.

He’d raised his voice and accused her of being improper.

Truthfully, there was part of her that could see his point.

He’d walked in when she had her hand on Liam’s naked torso, but it was only to see that awful scar he had.

She didn’t even know how he got it because he hadn’t told her yet.

He probably never would now. He’d get on his horse and head back to the north, where women weren’t spanked by their fathers.

She was deeply ashamed. She’d run straight into the yard where she kept her dogs and sat down among them, dirtying the clean garment she’d changed into in honor of Liam’s visit.

The dogs milled around her with the big male licking her face.

When she pushed him aside, gently, he simply collapsed and laid his head in her lap.

Hand on the dog, Cambria sat there and wept.

“Bria?” Liam was suddenly in the yard. “Get off the ground, sweetheart. You are going to get dirty down there.”

He was holding a hand down to her, and when she shook her head, refusing his request, he gently took her wrist and pulled her, reluctantly, to her feet.

He was still holding his dog on a lead with the other hand and all of Cambria’s dogs were quite interested in the newcomer who wasn’t so much a newcomer, as he’d been part of the pack those years ago.

They sniffed at him, tails wagging, as Cambria wiped the tears off her face.

“I am sorry for my father,” she said, sniffling. “I do not know what possessed him to say such terrible things. That’s not like him at all.”

Liam still had her by the wrist. “Do not fret over it,” he said softly. “The man has a daughter to protect. I cannot say I would not have done the same thing in his position.”

His words made her feel a little better. “He’s never spanked me before, not ever,” she said. “I do not know why he chose this moment to do it, right in front of you.”

Liam smiled faintly. “It could be because you were shouting at him,” he said. “Or resisting him.”

She looked up at him, her eyes flashing. “He was being offensive.”

“He was being a father who was concerned for his daughter.”

“He did not have to spank me.”

“Nay, he did not,” Liam agreed. “Did he hurt you?”

She rubbed her bum, instinctively. “Not really.”

He could see that she was humiliated more than anything else. “Mayhap he was right,” he said. “Mayhap I should not have shown you my scar. It was bold of me. Forgive me.”

Her features turned sympathetic. “I am glad you told me,” she said. “But you did not tell me how it happened.”

“I did,” he reminded her. “An angry Scotsman tried to impale me. He did a fairly good job of it, actually.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Of course not.”

She frowned. “I should think it would,” she said. “Getting stabbed by a sword is serious.”

He smiled at her. “It was a tickle.”

He wasn’t going to budge on the pain issue because he genuinely didn’t want her to worry about it, or him, but Cambria didn’t realize that. She thought he was simply being noble.

“Are the wars still going on in the north?” she asked.

He shrugged. “The Scots are unhappy right now,” he said.

“They have a good deal of turmoil between the clans, but they also seemed determined to take Berwick and some other northern properties. It has kept us very busy, and with the death of the Earl of Warenton, we expect them to test the de Wolfe strength now.”

She looked at him seriously. “The Earl of Warenton?” she repeated. “Isn’t that William de Wolfe?”

He nodded. “Aye,” he said, his expression tightening with sorrow. “He was a very great man and I shall miss him, but with his absence, the Scots may see it as an opportunity.”

“To do what?”

“Try to fracture the north.”

“And you will be in the middle of it if they do.”

He nodded. He didn’t have to say a word. His expression conveyed how serious it was, and that didn’t do anything to ease her concern for it.

“Then you will be leaving soon,” she said solemnly.

“Aye,” he said. “I cannot stay long. I only came to deliver news of Warenton’s death and to see to your health.”

Gazing up at him, she pushed some stray hair out of her eyes. “When will you return?”

His green eyes glimmered. “As soon as I can,” he said. “Will you miss me?”

“Nay.”

She said it quickly, too quickly, and turned away from him so he wouldn’t see the smile on her lips.

His grin was back.

“If I said I will miss you, would it matter?” he said.

“Why should it?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You know that we are to be married in a few years,” he said. “It is time you start showing me some regard. You do like me, don’t you?”

Cambria’s head was still turned away, but her cheeks were flushing madly. “I do not dislike you,” she said.

He burst into soft laughter. “How good of you, my lady,” he said. “I do not dislike you, either.”

“That is good,” she said. “For we cannot get rid of one another.”

“Do you want to get rid of me?”

She did look at him then. “Not today,” she said. “Ask me the same question tomorrow and I may have a different answer.”

He continued to laugh. “You know how to make a man feel wanted.”

She was gearing up for a petulant retort but was distracted because someone was licking her hand. Cambria looked down to see Bran, Liam’s dog, licking at her fingers and she instantly softened, going down on a knee to pet the very big, black head.

“He looks healthy,” she said. “I am glad to see that he is happy.”

“He is very happy,” he said. “I told your father that I wanted to thank you for giving him to me. I do not know what I would do without him.”

Her pets on the dog slowed. “And I do not know what I would do without you,” she said quietly. “If you must return north, to battle, then try not to be killed before we have a chance to wed.”

The smile faded from Liam’s face. That was as honest as he’d ever heard her.

He’d known Cambria for the entirety of her life, before she was even called Cambria, and he’d always viewed the betrothal between them as a duty and nothing more.

When he was younger, he’d been positively averse to it to the point of rebellion, but stern words from William had quelled any resistance.

Marry her and breed strong English sons from her, William had told him.

He knew why, too. It was to breed away Llywelyn’s bloodlines.

He knew he’d been chosen for an important role.

He’d tried to focus on that.

Truthfully, until he rode through the gates of Folkingham this time, he’d simply been resigned to his future.

The last he saw of Cambria, she’d been just a girl, skinny, with a pretty face and crooked teeth.

He remembered that she’d followed him around, holding his hand, and he’d barely tolerated it.

He’d expected that with this visit, he’d have to tolerate her again, but something strange had happened.

She’d grown up.

The woman before him suddenly wasn’t such an unhappy duty.

Not only had she physically matured, but her manner had matured as well.

She was humorous. She was brave, as evidenced by her conversation with her father.

She was growing up before him and he liked what he saw.

He could only imagine how magnificent she would be in another four or five years, when it was time for them to wed.

What had been a duty could become something else.

It might actually be a pleasure.

Bending over her as she crouched on the ground and petted his dog, he murmured in her ear.

“I will do my best,” he whispered.

His hot breath on her ear startled her and she instinctively put her hand up, slapping him in the mouth in the process. He grunted, immediately tasting blood, as she bolted to her feet.

“Forgive me,” she said apologetically. “I did not mean to do that.”

He rubbed at the lip where there was a pinprick of blood from being cut by a front tooth. “Not to worry,” he said. “I will heal. But I meant what I said. I will do everything possible to ensure the Scots do not take my life.”

She nodded, seemingly satisfied by his declaration. “I hope so,” she said. “Because I am certain there is no other man in England who could tolerate me.”

His eyebrows rose dramatically. “And you think I can?”

She grinned, a lovely gesture. “You have no choice,” she said. “It’s either me or the Scots.”

“That’s my only alternative?”

“I am afraid so.”

His smile was back and he winked at her.

“I will take my chances with you,” he said.

“But you should know that I am the jealous type, so no flirting with anyone while I am away. It was charming when you were a child, but you are no longer a child. The only man you will flirt with is me and you cannot do that until you are a little older, so keep that in mind. Behave yourself while I am gone. Promise?”

She cocked her head thoughtfully. “And if I do not?”

“Then I’ll spank you like your father just did.”

“You’ll have to catch me first.”

He scowled, watching her fight off a smile. She was toying with him and he was going to let her. Loudly, he stomped a big boot in her direction and she squealed with terror, taking off on a run toward the bailey. He gave her a head start before following, grinning all the way.

The next several years were going to be a very, very long wait, indeed.