Page 49 of Wolfehound
Her mother had told her not to say anything to him, but if he already knew her secret, she wasn’t sure why she wasn’t supposed to tell him that she’d been told. She found that she was eager to discuss it with him, to know whatheknew in case her mother had left anything out. In case he had a different perspective. All she knew was that the news wasn’t anything she’d ever imagined, and certainly not what she’d ever expected, and it was having an effect on her.
Truthfully, she was terrified.
She was also in denial. There was no possibility she was who her mother said she was…was there? Surely the woman was mistaken. Perhaps she’d heard someone fantasize about Cambria’s true identity and taken it to heart. Whatever the case, Cambria couldn’t believe she was truly a lost Welsh princess. There had to be another explanation.
Perhaps Liam could provide it.
She was out of her wedding dress at this point, donning a pale blue silk with a deep neckline and a wispy white shift underneath. The color of the dress was the same color of her eyes and she’d had it made especially for this moment, for greeting her husband-to-be. They hadn’t seen one another in nearly a year, and even that meeting had been brief because Liam was delivering messages from his father, whom he’d just started to serve. He’d left his position at Castle Questing and gone to serve War Herringthorpe as a garrison commander. And that had been it. A short moment in time she’d been left with.
Until now.
Now, he had come for her.
Cambria took one last look in the bronze mirror. Her hair was unbound, down to her buttocks, but a ribbon pulled it away from her face. She was wearing a silver-and-blue sapphire necklace her father had given her when she’d turned eighteen years of age, with matching earrings that dangled from her earlobes. On her lips she wore beeswax with finely crushed rose petals in it that gave it a faint red color, positively stunning with her coloring. She looked every inch the daughter of a warlord, proud and perfect and…
She also looked every inch a Welsh princess.
A surge of confusion pulsed through her again and she turned away from the mirror, heading out to the bailey, where they were preparing for the arrival of the betrothed. Liamhad been to Folkingham many times, but in this instance, it was in a different capacity and everyone knew it. There were smiles all around as everyone waited for what was known to be an impatient bridegroom. Rumors traveled quickly around the castle. When Cambria appeared at the keep entry, she could see the grinning. Attention was upon her. Slightly embarrassed that everyone was thinking the same thing, which was the fact that Liam would soon be able to legally bed their young mistress, Cambria tried not to pay any attention to the smirks from soldiers and servants alike.
She tried to retain at least some of her dignity.
“There you are,” Carlton said as he came up behind her. “I did not see you walk past my solar.”
Cambria glanced at her father. “Aye,” she said. “Here I am. Being laughed at.”
Carlton had no idea what she meant until she gestured to a couple of soldiers at the base of the stairs and how they were grinning.
“They are happy for you,” he said, shrugging. “They are not laughing at you.”
Cambria cast him a long look. “They are laughing because you delayed this marriage as long as you could until War Herringthorpe threatened you,” she said. “Now, Liam and his family are about to charge in through the gatehouse and snatch me away. They are laughing because they know what is going to happen as soon as Liam and I are married.”
Carlton wasn’t following her train of thought. “And what is that?”
Cambria threw a thumb in the general direction of the kitchen yard where her dogs were. “That we will behave like dogs in season.”
Carlton nearly choked in response. “Hell’s Fire, lass,” he said, coughing. “You should not say things like that.”
Cambria fought off a grin. “I could have said that he’ll mount me like—”
Carlton roared, interrupting her. “Shut your lips!” he said, putting his hands to his ears. “You will not say things like that in front of your father!”
That had Cambria laughing. She looped one of her arms affectionately around his elbow. “Apologies,” she said. “But had you not delayed so long, Liam would not be so eager and everyone would not be laughing.”
Carlton wasn’t over the fact that his daughter had used the word “mount” in front of him when describing what her betrothed intended to do once he married her, true though it might be.
“I regret nothing,” he said stiffly.
“I know.”
“Shall we go forth and greet Liam together?”
“Please.”
With Cambria grinning at her offended, embarrassed father, the two of them came off the stairs from the keep and headed out into the dusty bailey. The gatehouse was open, both portcullises lifted, and they could see a party through the opening, approaching from a distance. As they moved for the gatehouse, a soldier approached Carlton.
“My lord,” he said. “Our scouts have reported another party approaching from the north. They should be here before supper if they remain on this pace.”
Carlton looked at the man, a senior soldier who had been at Folkingham since the days of Fair Lydia’s father. “Who is it?” he asked.
