“Are ye going tae stand still, Kai, or are ye planning tae drive us all mad with yer constant bouncing?” Domhnall’s voice made Kai whip his head around to see all his siblings snickering.
Domhnall stood calm as ever, with the thoughtful Magnus at his side. He was watching Kai carefully, his head cocked at an angle, as Thora and Enya giggled between them.
“What?” Kai said with innocence. “I’m simply annoyed I couldnae go riding this morning. That’s all.” He folded his arms and tried to stand as still as his brothers, shutting down his thoughts as much as possible.
He knew well enough by now that when Magnus was looking at him with that penetrating gaze, he was seeing things in Kai’s mind. Things Kai didn’t necessarily want him to see.
Kai’s skill was similar to Magnus’, though perhaps more illuminating at times, an ability to read people’s emotions when touching them and being able to change them, usually for the better.
At this moment in time, it was plain that Thora and Enya were both excited about their visitors, and they found Kai’s fidgeting extremely humorous. Domhnall was more anxious, wanting the formal feast they were about to share with their neighboring clan to go as well as it could possibly go. Magnus, on the other hand, had learned to distance himself from his emotions. Bearing the calmest of tempers of all of them, his emotions were as quiet as he was with his words.
“Aye, aye, that’s what it is,” Domhnall said with sarcasm. “Yer anxious mood has nothing tae dae with our visitors arriving now, daes it?”
“I dinnae ken what ye mean.” Kai shrugged, trying to ignore what he was feeling.
“They’re here, they’re here!” Enya declared with sudden delight, racing to the window of the great hall that looked out over the courtyard of the castle.
The others moved to her side, all looking at the riders. Kai was careful to follow at a slow pace, well aware that Thora looked back at him, curiosity now in her expression.
“What is it?” Kai whispered to her.
“I just saw something. A flick of ye and…” She looked away, out of the window and down to one of the riders. “It doesnae matter. Ye ken as well as I the things I see dinnae always make sense tae me.”
“I wish ye wouldnae fear yer gift,” he whispered, for her ears only as the others talked excitedly of their visitors.
“Try me gift sometime,” Thora said with a sigh. “The glimpses I have of what may come tae pass, they dinnae always make sense.” The way she chewed her lip and looked out of the window told Kai the answer to the question he feared to ask. Had Thora seen something good in his future? Or something he should fear?
I should fear it. I feel it coming off Thora.
She kept her focus on one of the riders in particular.
“Laird Finley MacKinnon,” Domhnall said as he stared at the three main riders and the guards who had accompanied them.
“Why are ye nervous?” Magnus asked. “They are the clan’s oldest friends. Laird Finley has seen us all grow up.”
“Aye, I ken.” Domhnall nodded. “I dinnae want anything tae sour that relationship. Ever.” He glanced in Kai’s direction.
“Why did ye look at me then?”
“Ye ken very well why,” Domhnall said with a sigh. “Yer reputation with women is getting worse by the day.”
“I am nae that bad,” Kai insisted. Thora and Enya both looked at him with narrowed eyes. “I’m really nae, sisters.”
“Hmm,” they grunted in unison, then looked out of the window again.
“All I’m saying, Kai, is that if ye were tae pursue Laird Finley’s daughter, I fear what it could dae tae our oldest and best alliance,” Domhnall went on, standing tall.
“I beg yer pardon?” Kai felt as if he had been kicked in the gut. “Why would I pursue his daughter? Which one, anyone?”
All of his siblings stared at him now, the suspicion in their gazes so strong that Kai flinched at the power of those stares.
“Ye and Ava are inseparable,” Enya said, casting a gaze to the heavens to plead for patience.
“The way ye look at her,” Domhnall added, shaking his head. “Leaves little tae the imagination. I dinnae need Magnus’ skill of reading minds tae ken what ye are thinking.”
“Ye’re wrong,” Kai said sharply. “Ava and I are just friends. We always have been.”
Magnus raised his eyebrows so high in disbelief that Kai fidgeted on the spot.
“We are friends,” he said again, to which Magnus shook his head.
“Then shut down yer thoughts so I cannae glimpse them, Kai,” Magnus ordered in a low undertone.
Kai looked away, down at the riders.
It is hard tae deny that there is something there.
His gaze landed on Ava. She had just jumped down from her horse, her long blonde braid wild behind her. A warrior lady, she carried a sword on one hip and a dagger on the other. She was still young, but growing more and more into a woman.
Kai had to admit that from the first day he had ever met Ava, over ten years ago now, in this same spot in the great hall, he had been struck by her. Her wit and her strength, had drawn him to her. They had been friends by the end of the day when Laird MacKinnon had departed with his two daughters.
They saw each other often, when their clans met up, but they also made the effort to see each other alone. Many a night had they crept into the forests together to meet, or even the staff’s kitchen, for a place where the two of them could talk, be themselves, without interruption.
Over the last year, their friendship had shifted. Ava becoming a woman, leaving girlhood behind, was making Kai look at her differently. It would have been a lie to pretend he had never imagined him and Ava together, never thought of what it would be like to kiss her, to pleasure her, to have her in his bed.
Even now, he released a growling sigh, until Magnus elbowed him in the rib.
“Dinnae read me mind if ye dinnae like what ye see,” Kai hissed at him.
“Then shut down yer thoughts,” Magnus ordered. “They are coming.” He nodded through the window.
Laird Finley was leading the way up the keep steps, with his daughters, Ava and Lyla, following behind. It would be little more than a minute now before they were in the great hall.
Kai’s breath shuddered a little as he turned his gaze upon the double doors which were already open, waiting for Laird Finley’s arrival.
“Ah, Laird Finley,” Domhnall declared as Laird Finley walked in first. At once, he moved toward him and bowed. The others followed, though Kai hung back, returning to his fidgeting manner as he waited for another to appear.
Lyla came next, moving to Enya and Thora to greet them.
At last, there she is.
Ava appeared next, having shed her cloak and her weapons, so she was wearing a rich navy blue tartan gown, cinched just under the bust, to show off her athletic figure. Kai felt his breath hitch as he moved toward her.
She smiled when she saw him.
“Good day,” she whispered as he took her hand.
“Good day tae ye too.” He clasped it between both of his palms, a momentary act of friendship in the busy room. “Would ye like tae go fer a ride?”
Let us get out of here. Let us be just the two of us again.
“Aye, I–” Before she could say anymore though, Laird Finley called out to her.
“Ava, come. There will be a feast.” Laird Finley beckoned her to his side. Ava offered an apologetic smile, then moved to stand beside her father.
Kai’s hand dropped at his hip as he stared after her.
“Ye ken what he’s thinking, dinnae ye?” Magnus’ voice at Kai’s side made him jump.
“That’s yer gift. Nae mine,” Kai reminded him.
“He’s thinking ye are nae good enough fer his daughter. He certainly doesnae want Ava tae be just another woman ye bed.”
“She would never be that. It’s Ava,” Kai hissed.
“He doesnae ken that, Kai.” Magnus sighed. “Be careful, braither. Domhnall is right. We dinnae want tae make an enemy of our best ally.” As Magnus walked away, Kai felt numb.
He stared at Ava, now drawn into conversation with her father and Domhnall.
With Ava, it would never be that.
The mere thought of bedding Ava and then forgetting what they had shared disgusted Kai. She was different, she meant more to him than any other.
It was like a lightning bolt striking him overhead, the realization so strong that he actually wavered a little and reached out to the wall, holding a palm against the stone to keep himself standing.
Dear God… when did I fall in love with Ava?
Magnus’ eyes were on him. With horror, Kai realized that Magnus had seen into his mind at precisely the wrong moment. Ever so slightly, Magnus shook his head.
Kai nodded, showing he understood. It didn’t matter if he was in love with Ava, if she meant more to him than any other woman had ever done. The risk was too great, he couldn’t ever jeopardize the friendship with the MacKinnons.
Also Ava was the perfect woman, and he was nothing more than the roguish younger braither of a laird. How could he ever hope fer her tae love him back?
In the middle of her conversation with her father, she turned and looked at him, smiling. It made his stomach jolt with excitement.
“Are ye ready?” Lyla’s voice made Ava turn to face the mirror.
She was dressed head to toe in a mixture of MacKinnon and MacLeod colors. On one shoulder were two clan badges, mixing their heraldry together. Her blonde hair was no longer in its customary braid, but a more ornate plait, bundled at the top of her head, with loose curls hanging down on either side of her face.
Lyla handed her a bouquet of winter flowers, the stems dried and pressed together with a bow. The white and blue flower heads were serene, contrasting the vibrant colors of her gown.
“I’m ready,” Ava said with a smile growing on her face. Lyla beamed and took her arm.
“Then let us get ye tae the church.”
They giggled together, leaving the chamber and hurrying down through the corridors. The whole way, guards and maids stopped, calling out to Ava and wishing her well. She thanked them all, waving back to them with her bouquet.
Downstairs in the entrance to the castle stood Finley. He was fidgeting, constantly adjusting his own tunic and the plaid strip thrown over his shoulder. When he heard the two of them approaching, he turned to face them, his own face going from one of apprehension to pure happiness in seconds.
“Dinnae ye look beautiful?” he said loudly, clapping his hands together in delight. He met the two of them at the bottom of the staircase. “Ye look a lot like yer maither did, on our wedding day.” There was a softness to his expression that warmed Ava’s heart.
From his words, it almost felt as if she there with them in that moment, laying an encouraging hand on Ava’s shoulder. Their marriage had been arranged, but over the years they had come to care for each other.
“Come, let us get ye tae the church.” Her father offered his arm to her. “If we are late, poor Kai may think ye have run off and changed yer mind.”
“Nae much chance of that,” Lyla said with a laugh. “The two are besotted with each other! Never thought that ye two, of all people, would be so sickly sweet in love.”
“Ha! We arenae like that.”
“Who else breaks off in the middle of a sparring battle tae have a kiss?” Lyla cast her eyes to the heavens, pleading for patience as they walked out of the castle and toward the horses that awaited them.
“Well, we dae.” Ava smiled, giddily.
Just two days before, when Kai had visited to make the last arrangements for the wedding, they had ended up in another sparring practice together. One which was heavily distracting. What Lyla, nor anyone else in the castle knew, was that the sparring had only lasted about five minutes before they had both strayed, doing other things.
Kai had barred the door with a sword to make sure they would not be discovered, before they made love in the middle of the floor. He had relinquished control completely, giving himself up so she could command every part of it. He did as she asked, lying there, allowing her to explore him, trail her fingers over every part of his body, then taking his length inside of her. She had leaned back as she had rocked, grinding against him in the most wonderful way. She had climaxed in that position as well, as he had finished inside of her, thrusting his hips upward to aid her final movement.
When they had emerged, both sticky and sweaty and had gone to dinner with their families, Laird Domhnall had muttered something about them clearly having practiced their sword skills hard. Magnus, on the other hand, had looked a little too intently at the pair of them for Ava’s comfort.
“They are all there, waiting for us,” Finley said as they climbed onto three horses and trotted out of the courtyard, heading toward the chapel in the castle grounds. “Kai’s sister arrived this morning.”
Thora had already arrived some days ago, so Ava presumed her father meant Enya.
“She has come?”
“Oh, aye, and she’s so excited tae see ye.”
As they reached the church, Ava allowed her father to help her down, cautious of jumping down herself when she was wearing so much plaid and was laden down with many petticoats. As they approached the door, Lyla moved behind them, taking up the place of the bridesmaid position as they entered the chapel.
Great pipes struck up the moment they stepped inside.
Ava tried to take in the view as much as possible. All the people that mattered to her were in that room, all the friends and family members she cherished. On one side, she could see all of Kai’s brothers and sisters, along with their partners. Thora, the one sibling not yet wed, stood alone, though she beamed widely, looking deliriously happy. Ava waved quickly at her and Enya, who waved back, then she set her gaze forward.
Kai stood at the front of the church with Domhnall at his side, staring back at her.
He was striking in his handsomeness today, wearing the same clan colors she was, showing the union of their clans. He was smiling so much, Ava was trying to remember the last time she had seen him smile in such a fashion.
I remember.
It was the moment she had told him that she loved him.
Ava and her father crossed through the aisle together toward the altar. As they reached Kai’s side, Finley passed her hand into Kai’s grasp. Instead of releasing them right away, he held his hands over the pair of them together. Ava smiled even wider, though she had thought a second before it would be an impossible thing.
“Joined forever,” he said softly. “May ye both be as happy forever as ye are now.”
Ava felt Kai’s fingers intertwine with her own.
***
Kai could not stop smiling as he looked at Ava on the dance floor. She was currently dancing with her sister, the two twirling one another under each other’s arms as the pipers and other dancers circled the floor, clapping along in time to the cheery music.
Kai drummed his fingers to the same beat on the side of his cup of mead, far to engrossed watching his wife to realize his brothers were approaching him.
“There he is,” Domhnall said, clapping Kai on his shoulders to get his attention.
“God, ye made me jump.”
“He was far too focused on other things.” Magnus smiled then followed Kai’s gaze to the dance floor. “Ye…”
“What?” Kai said with apparent innocence. He tried to shut down his thoughts, but Magnus worked too quickly. As Kai could read people’s emotions all too well, Magnus could read thoughts as if there were written on people’s skin.
“Ye two didnae wait!?” Magnus hissed.
“Ha! Like ye did?” Domhnall asked with a shake of his head. “Besides, I could tell ye that they didnae wait. I found them in Kai’s bed together just a few weeks ago.”
“Can ye say that a little bit quieter please?” Kai snatched the cup of mead away from his elder brother as Magnus chuckled under his breath.
“I should have kenned.” Magnus nodded in Ava’s direction. “I am happy fer ye, Kai. Happier than I can say. Goodness kens how long ye have been love with her.”
“Ye kenned? Ye always kenned?”
Magnus nodded, ever so slowly. From the way Domhnall looked sheepish, a man who never ever looked sheepish, it was plain as day that Magnus had told Domhnall sometime before what he had read in Kai’s thoughts.
“I also saw that ye never thought ye were good enough fer her.” Magnus shook his head. “I’m glad tae see she changed yer mind in that. Never were two people better matched.”
Coming from Magnus who had married his perfect match, Ciara, this meant a lot.
“Thank ye, Magnus.”
“Tae yer happiness.” Domhnall took back his tankard and raised it in the air to toast him. Magnus and Kai clinked tankards with him. “And tae more being added tae our family.”
He looked across to where Enya was standing with Thora, the two whispering together happily. Enya glowed with a happiness Kai could never remember seeing in her before she had married her husband Cillian.
“Any news from ye?” Kai said, turning his attention to Magnus.
“Ye starting tae read minds too?” Magnus asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Nae, but I can sense something… a hope, aye, that’s it. A hope.” He nodded at Magnus’ expression and the smile that was breaking through.
“I hope it willnae be long afore me wife has news.” Magnus smiled in Ciara’s direction. She had been towed into the middle of the floor by Lyla and Ava, joining the dancing.
They are trying.
Kai clapped his hand on Magnus’ shoulder, delighted for him.
“Though it looks like ye and Ava will have little feet following ye around too soon the way ye two are carrying on,” Domhnall said under his breath. Kai shot a glare at his elder brother, as Magnus chuckled deeply.
“Let us look tae others instead.” Kai looked away, desperate to change the conversation.
He had every intention, when the feast finished, to take Ava to his chamber so they could have a much more private celebration. He caught her eye across the room as she clapped and danced around Ciara. From the heat in her cheeks, she was thinking the same thing.
He winked at her, a silent promise that it would not be long, loving the way she blew a kiss back at him before returning her focus onto the door.
Thora and Enya walked close by, Thora looking a bit worried, but Kai didn’t have time to go and talk to her as she was being dragged by Lyla into a dance and Enya walked toward them. Seeing the opportunity to change the topic of conversation, Kai wrapped his arm around his sister’s shoulders. In a second, a laughing Thora came too, obviously wanting to be a part of the family reunion.
“Well, who shall be next tae wed, I wonder?” he asked. Fortunately, all his siblings played their part. Domhnall nodded along and Enya clapped her hands together excitedly as Magnus cocked his head, watching Thora with great intent.
“Me?” She blushed a deep shade of red. “I am nae thinking of marriage!” she insisted rather loudly. “Yer own wedding day has scarcely finished and already ye are looking tae the next celebration.”
“Aye, why nae?” Kai said with mischief. “Domhnall, dinnae ye think it’s time she turned her thoughts tae such things?” With ease, he pushed Thora between them, shifting his brothers’ attention to Thora.
“Aye, we should talk about such things.” Domhnall agreed.
“I am nae talking about it now.”
Kai took the opportunity to escape. Having left poor Thora to fight her corner alone, Kai ushered into the middle of the dancers and caught Ava’s hand, kissing the back with swiftness. He loved the way she smiled at his touch, her eyes sparkling with clear anticipation.
I ken what she is thinking. She is thinking of what we did the other day in the sparring room, when nay one was around tae see us together.
Even now, the memory of seeing her above him, of watching her as she took her pleasure with complete freedom and confidence, made him growl under his breath, wanting her again.
“Dance with me?” he whispered.
“On one condition.” She held up a single finger between them. “Dae we have tae stay at this feast for much longer? I’m a little… impatient… tae have our own celebration.”
He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close. She was too much of a temptation to possibly refuse. When the opportunity arose, they would certainly be slipping away from the celebration together.
“One dance,” he said softly. “Then , love, how could I possibly refuse ye anything?”
Don’t miss your link for the whole series at the end of the preview.
Chapter One
Castle MacKinnon, November 1298
“Ava, dae ye really think a woman who claims tae be able to see intae the future will help ye seduce a man?”
Ava halted in the middle of the castle corridor. She turned abruptly to face her little sister, swinging the burning torch around with her as she moved. Lyla, startled, jumped away from her.
“Careful, sister! I ken ye are a warrior but dae me the favor of nae giving me the wounds yer other opponents bear.”
“I’m sorry,” Ava muttered hurriedly, “but ye ken we dinnae have time fer this argument now. Me mind is made up. Ye can either stay here or come with me, but I am going, Lyla.”
Lyla sighed, her dark blonde hair becoming a curtain as it fell across her face. Ava pushed back the wisps of her own blonde hair, that had fallen out of the customary braid she wore. Tonight, she would not be distracted by fear or the serious nature of her sister’s conversation.
I have a mission tae accomplish.
“I am going,” Ava whispered. She turned, carrying the burning torch high as she slipped down a narrow spiral staircase with Lyla hurrying behind her. More than once her little sister nearly slipped on the stones. The cold air was so strong that night that even inside the castle there was moisture and growing frost on the stone steps. When they reached the bottom, Ava tiptoed toward the kitchens and the servants’ stairwell, knowing it was the best way out of the castle when they didn’t want to be glimpsed by the guards. By the doorway, she latched the burning torch onto an iron hook in the wall, knowing she couldn’t take it with them.
A guard would spot the burning fire from a mile away and come to investigate.
“I dinnae ken about this,” Lyla muttered seriously again.
Ava gave her no answer. Halting by the door for a second, she checked beneath her thick woolen cloak. She carried a dirk at her right hip, her customary basilard at her left hip, all latched into a belt. Ordinarily, she would have liked to have taken her crossbow with her when walking the clan lands alone, but tonight, she had to travel fast, and the crossbow with the bolts would have only weighed her down.
“This castle holds shadows fer us now, I ken that,” Lyla whispered hurriedly as Ava checked her weapons. “But dae ye honestly think ye will find answers by talking tae a mad woman?”
“And ye think a seer is a mad woman, dae ye? Sister, I dinnae pretend tae understand all the secrets of this world. I dinnae ken how it works, what magic and mystery lies beneath the veil of what I can see. Maybe she does,” Ava added, fiercely, but quietly. “If she can help me at all, then I need tae take this chance.”
“Aye, aye, I ken.” Lyla sighed once again as Ava reached for the door.
“Now come, before we are seen.” Ava slipped the key into the door that she had stolen from the castle steward’s chamber earlier that day and slipped it into the lock. It clunked rather heavily, making the two of them halt and look around. When no sound followed, Ava opened the door.
The moment they both stepped outside, they shivered. The wind was bitterly cold, the clouds heavy with snow, threatening to open their icy treasure any second now, adding to the already rich covering of white snow on the ground. The moon, a mere crescent in the sky, was only just visible peeking through those heavy clouds.
“Lovely night, isnae it?” Lyla whispered to Ava with irony in her tone.
“Charming,” Ava agreed. She pressed her lips into the fur lining of her cloak and walked forward through the grounds, with the shorter Lyla racing to keep up with her.
As they crossed through the snowy courtyard toward the curtain wall, Lyla hopped between clumps of snow as Ava walked purposefully, her hand constantly gripping the hilt of her basilard beneath her cloak.
“Dae ye think –”
“Shh,” Ava pleaded. “We dinnae want a guard tae hear us now.”
As if he had been summoned by her words, Ava saw movement atop the nearest curtain wall. She reached for Lyla’s shoulder and pushed her down beneath the well in the middle of the courtyard, out of use thanks to the thick layer of ice which had formed at the bottom. Lyla yelped in surprise, forcing Ava to dart down too.
She held her finger to her lips, warning Lyla not to make another sound. If we’re discovered Faither will be fumin’.”
The guard’s loud footsteps on the curtain wall had stopped, suggesting he had heard Lyla’s noise and had whipped around, staring into the courtyard to investigate. Ava didn’t dare sneak a peek, but waited, holding her breath, until she heard his footsteps again. Peering around the edge of the well, she looked to his place atop the wall. He had returned to his patrol, no longer looking their way.
Ava grabbed Lyla’s hand and ran with her. Her younger sister, much slenderer and not so athletic in build, struggled to keep up as Ava ran to the nearest door. They pressed themselves against the stone wall as Ava pressed a second key, she had taken into a door hidden in the stone wall.
It was a secret door, barely used by any. If the rumors were to be believed, the guards had this door installed years ago to bring in their mistresses and wives at night when no one was looking. Ava wasn’t sure if she believed the tales, though she knew men’s appetites would warrant it.
She shuddered at the thought of men’s appetites when it came to the bedchamber and opened the door, inching it carefully across the snow on the ground to stay as quiet as possible.
As they slipped through, the snow was now thick on the ground thanks to the skeletal branches of the trees above, though their journey became suddenly darker.
Ava followed a path through the forest she knew all too well, for it had been her training ground for years for hunting and fighting. Lyla, on the other hand, gripped to the back of her cloak, following every step she took.
“If I dinnae dae this, ye would be forced tae marry that man,” Ava shuddered.
She had seen him. The very man that their father also feared giving Lyla too.
A warrior, a soldier, and a brutal leader, he had fixated his desires on Lyla. Known for his cruel and insatiable appetites, Ava could not countenance the thought of handing her little sweet sister to a man like him.
“Ye ken I cannae let that happen.”
“But then that means…”
“I ken. I ken what it means.” Ava and her father had talked for hours about the alternatives. Her father, Laird Finley MacKinnon, had drank himself into a stupor with enough whisky to drown a horse.
Lyla’s suitor was adamant in his pursuit of her. Finley’s greatest fear was that he wouldn’t be able to turn the man down. The MacKinnon clan was in debt. For so long they had fought for the Scottish cause against the English. They had lost men, had poor harvests due to bad winters, and now, Finley was running out of options as to how to protect his clan. Lyla’s suitor offered him money. This would ruin Ava, as she was the older sister, and having Lyla marry first was unthinkable. Yet, it would save their clan at the expense of them both.
“Then we must find another way tae get money,” Ava had said in the early hours of the morning.
Her father had looked up from his whisky, staring at her, eyes wide.
“There’s another laird. One so rich that if ye were tae marry him, all our troubles would be gone. Lyla would be safe.”
“Who?” Ava had asked sharply.
“Laird Blair Grant,” Ava now murmured aloud, remembering the way her father had said it sharply that night. He was not known for being a man of soft heart, but he did not have the same reputation of cruelty as Lyla’s suitor.
“Ye dinnae have tae dae this,” Lyla pleaded again behind her, repeatedly slipping in the snow.
“I must.” Ava had at first been dismayed to see that her father hadn’t given up on the idea come morning when he was sober and nursing a bad head. He had urged her to seduce Laird Blair Grant. If she could catch such a wealthy laird’s eye and secure a proposal, Lyla would indeed be safe.
As time had gone on, and as Lyla’s suitor kept reappearing, Ava had become more determined.
He is right. Aye, I must dae this.
Ever since they had lost their mother many years before, Ava had felt it was her responsibility to care for Lyla, to look after her, to teach her how to fare in the world, and above all, to protect her. More than once, she had run headlong into danger in order to keep her sister safe, and now was no different.
Without their mother there to protect her, Ava would happily take her place and do what she could. She certainly wasn’t going to feed Lyla to a cruel man, the way a fox would be fed to the wolves.
A memory flickered across Ava’s mind. It was of a night she always tried to forget, when a man had grabbed her wrist, pinned her down. She remembered his breath on her neck, the way he stank, the fear coiling in her stomach like a viper –
“Where dae we go now?” Lyla’s question broke through the memory.
Ava came to a stop at a fork in the path, then led Lyla down a snowy track. She knew where she was going. How many times had she come across the seer’s hut in this wood? She been told never to go there, yet she had always been curious. Today, she had a need of this woman.
“I’m nay temptress,” Ava muttered as they made their way toward the hut, fighting through the snow as the bitter wind whipped their hair and their cloaks. “If I am going tae dae this, and I will, then I need direction. The seer will help me.”
Ava could feel from the way Lyla’s hands gripped the back of her cloak that she was ready to argue again, but her sister said nothing. Instead, she gasped. The sound brought Ava to a halt, she gripped the hilt of the basilard hard, ready to use it, only to see it was no man or creature that had frightened her. They had found the seer’s cabin.
Now they were here, the air felt different, somehow even icier than before, as if the snow hung in the air, invisible around them. The hut itself was almost completely swamped by snow, the roof sagging under its weight, the old croft windows mere circles of pebbles.
Ava took a small step forward, the snow crunching beneath her boots. In the windows, she saw something glitter. A string of shiny stones and beads had been hung there, which now swayed in the wind, rather ominously clicking against the stones around it. She supposed it was some charm to ward off demons.
“They say she doesnae let people in anymore,” Lyla hissed as Ava moved forward, with her sister staying close behind her.
“Then I pray she changes her mind tonight.” As Ava neared the croft, her boot crunched icy snow loudly. It was so noisy that a light was struck inside the croft.
Ava and Lyla froze, staring at the window. Was it a candle? Maybe a fire light? It burned a deep amber hue.
Ava raised her hand from her basilard, ready to knock when she hesitated. Her first doubts creeped in. She wondered if the seer would tell her anything useful at all? What if the seer only confirmed that Lyla would have to marry her cruel suitor in the end, that anything Ava could do wouldn’t avoid it? What if –
“Dinnae stand there dithering on me doorstep all night.” A sharp voice called from within the croft.
Lyla covered her mouth and jumped back three paces as Ava stood stock still, staring at the door with its carved witch symbols in the wood in amazement.
“Come, lass. Leave yer poor sister outside. Me fire would warm her, but she’ll be happier out there.”
Ava looked at Lyla, who was already nodding eagerly, clearly in no hurry to be inside the seer’s croft, for confirmation.
Ava turned the door handle and pushed it open. The door creaked ominously and loudly as she moved into the room.
“Close that door. Ye want an old woman tae die from the cold? Aye, aye, old bones decay quickly ye ken. I kenned a lass once who died from her bones turning tae ice. They didnae believe me. They never believe me, but I ken what I see.”
Ava closed the door sharply, turning to face the woman who was speaking so fast, she had to strain to listen to the individual words.
Sat before the fire was the seer, dressed in a thick woolen gown, a heavy wolf’s fur on her shoulders and dark hair around her face that was streaked with grey. She was chewing something, some sort of root, though she only chewed with one side of her jaw. One eye was wider than the other, as if the other caused her pain, and she didn’t once blink those eyes, giving her the impression of being a gargoyle that had sprung to life.
Jerkily, the woman gestured to the stool opposite her.
“Come, come. Nay time. Ye think guards dinnae ken when the daughter of a laird sneaks out of the castle?”
“They’ve never spotted it before,” Ava murmured as she sat on the stool, listening to it creak and whine behind her. She had snuck out many times in the night, just for the challenge of it… and the freedom.
“Hmm,” the seer grunted. “Speak. Why did ye come? Tell me.” The woman waved impatiently as she reached for a bundle of burning herbs and inhaled the rich scent of drive lavender and lemon thyme sharply, her nostrils flaring.
Ava spoke fast, obeying, though as she spoke, she couldn’t help staring at all the dried herbs hanging from the ceiling. Rather oddly, there was a rabbit’s foot dangling from between the herbs too, and more witches’ symbols carved across the wooden beams that held up the thatched roof.
“I… I have come fer direction,” Ava forced herself on. “I am trying tae protect me sister. A cruel suitor wants her, and tae avoid it, me faither wishes me tae seduce a laird. He’s a wealthy man, so wealthy it could solve all our clan’s problems, but I am nay temptress. Nay seductress.” She gestured at her gown, the cloak, and the weapons she carried. “How does a woman like me go about this task? And if I dae it… will it work? Can I save Lyla?”
The seer’s wider eye seemed to widen impossibly further, gazing at Ava.
Yet Ava had not come to be messed with. She was here for a task, and she would not fidget and be made uncomfortable by the seer’s spooky ways. She sat taller on the stool, her spine becoming rigid.
“I have asked ye questions. Please, answer me,” she said with strength.
“Hmm. Aye, aye, got a heart, got a conscience, got fire in ye too.” The seer grunted with a chuckle. “Yet all ken that already.” She reached into the fire suddenly.
Ava leaped back in amazement, only to see that the seer took hold of another bundle of herbs and dropped them into a bowl on a small, crooked table beside her. The blackened leaves and flower heads fell off the stems and the woman picked up the bowl, spinning it round and round for a moment before she set it down, gazing at the flower heads as if they held the answers of the world. Eventually, she looked up, staring straight at Ava with that eerie stare once again.
“Yer future will depend on a choice ye make. That choice will be whether tae follow yer duty. Or yer heart.” It was spoken without passion. In fact, it was said without much interest, almost impassively.
“Me heart?” Ava shifted.
I am doing this because I have a heart. I love me sister and will dae anything tae protect her. Arenae me duty and me heart aligned?
“Either path ye choose will have consequences. Nay way tae ken the right one.”
“How helpful,” Ava muttered under her breath.
The seer leaned forward sharply. It was clear she was not yet done.
“And on either path ye take, there’ll be one there with ye. A man. A man tae steer ye intae yer future. Maybe show ye what seduction is.”
“I dinnae need –”
“As ye say, ye are nae a temptress.” The seer gestured to her with one of the burning bundles that now smelled strongly of lavender and acrid burning wood. “Look at the border between the MacKinnons and the MacLeods. Ye have close ties with their clan. In three days, in a tavern called The Stag’s Rest, there will be a man. He’s a rake. A man who could read emotions with one look and can seduce any lass he likes intae his bed. He’s a man of careless elegance, a man whose confidence is his second skin, and has eyes like a storm over a sea.”
Ava started to fidget uncomfortably. How could the seer possibly see this man in her mind?
“He is dangerous and mischievous, and he commands eyes even without trying. He’ll be wearing a heavy hat. Ungainly thing. Quite ugly. That is how ye’ll ken it’s him. Find him.” She leaned back sharply. “The student will need a master if she is tae learn and change her future.”
“And ye think that is possible?” Ava asked keenly. “Ye think that if I choose this path, I can change the future?”
“I see possible futures, lass. I dinnae see which one will come.” With a flick of her wrist, the seer dismissed her.
Chapter Two
Three Days Later, The Stag’s Rest, Torrin
“Och, bloody thing,” Kai muttered beneath his breath as he adjusted the large hat on his head. It was a ridiculous thing, necessary, but made no less ridiculous because of it. So large and heavy, it repeatedly slipped down his brow, hiding half his face from the rest of the world.
Necessary, remember that, ye fool, he reminded himself.
As scout for his elder brother, Laird of the MacLeod’s, it was Kai’s position to occasionally act the ridiculous fool in order to get the information they needed. It kept their clan and the Scottish safe, and countless times had saved them when it came to their battles against the English.
Adjusting the hat once more on his head, he shifted against the tavern wall, staring out across the room.
The Stag’s Rest was hardly a reputable place. There were ladies who sold themselves here, thieves gathering at every table, bandits masking their faces with scarves, and even an innkeeper who served up beer which had most likely been watered down to fleece his customers. Kai dared to try another sip of it, but it tasted so foul, he pushed it away, drumming his fingers idly against the tankard as he looked at the door, waiting for the entrance of the man he was to meet.
Two lasses walked in, with dresses so low cut that Kai inhaled sharply. Their cleavages were deep, their curves obvious, but Kai forced himself to look away.
He had a healthy appetite in that regard. He had shared his bed with many a lass, sometimes they didn’t even make it to a bed. It helped. It made him thrum with excitement and thrill, gave him confidence, even if none of the women came close to the one woman whom he wished he could share his bed with.
She’ll never be that. Remember that.
He pushed thoughts of her away, not even allowing her name to surface in his mind. Tonight, he had to be serious. His elder brother, Domhnall, had sent him here for a reason.
“Ye are the only one who can dae this.” Domhnall had spoken commandingly as they trained together out on the lawns behind the MacLeod castle. “This man is nae related tae our clan. He will have information from other clans, inside knowledge we cannae find any other way.”
“I ken all that. I said I’m happy tae go, didnae I?” Kai had laughed and tried to drive the sword toward his brother again, but Domhnall had deflected it.
Kai was athletic in build, but also lithe. It made him ideal for being a scout – he was a fast rider and quick fighter, but Domhnall was broad of muscle and a brutal warrior. Kai once saw his brother flatten a man out cold with nothing but his bare fist. Kai frequently thanked his lucky stars he was born Domhnall’s family and not his enemy.
“I need ye tae dae more than just listen tae what he says,” Domhnall had gone on, walking around him, ready to fight again.
“Aye, aye, I ken.” Kai had held his arms out wide, like a performer on stage. “Ye wish me tae use me usual tricks, dinnae ye? Tae see his emotions, see what he’s hiding from us. Sense when he’s lying, aye?”
Domhnall had nodded his head sharply.
Kai may have been the joker of the group, the one who seemed confident and at ease, but they all knew it gave him an advantage. No one expected him to be the one who was always watching, always astute, always sensing things that people were trying to hide.
Aye, it’s me magic.
He chuckled at the mere thought and adjusted himself on the bench again, daring another sip of the watered-down beer before he spat it back into the tankard and gagged at the taste.
The door opened and the drunken men shouted for it to be closed fast as a flurry of snow came in and the icy wind made them all fidget. The innkeeper’s wife added more logs to the fire as the door was kicked shut and the man who had just entered looked around.
Kai only needed to glance at him to know this was the man he had been waiting for.
Like him, this scout was dressed demurely, trying to hide in plain sight. He rubbed his hands uneasily, blowing on them to summon some warmth, his thick black curly hair hanging down from the hat on his head. The eager way he looked around, showing he was searching for someone, just confirmed what Kai already knew. His weapons were hidden beneath his cloak, including a dirk pressed into the ankle of his boot. It was where Kai often hid a weapon of his own, though his was a little more discreet.
The scout looked toward him, pulling down the thick woolen scarf that covered the lower half of his face. When he saw Kai’s hat, he recognized the symbol. It had been in Kai’s letter to the man, that if he wanted to talk, come to this tavern and talk to the guy wearing the large hat.
Kai flicked his fingers to the nearest bar maid as the scout approached. Affecting an easy smile, Kai ordered two more beers.
“I’m glad ye made it,” Kai put on a cheerful attitude and nodded for the man to take his seat. “A drink, aye? Ye need tae warm yer bones from all that snow.”
“Aye. Thank ye.” The scout sat down on the bench opposite Kai, clearly a little startled by Kai’s easy manner. He looked around his shoulders, nervous of being overheard.
This is a good start.
It was what Kai had wanted to see. A scout delivering secret information shouldn’t be at ease and confident, but nervous – even terrified about being overheard.
They waited for the beers to be brought then Kai offered a toast.
“Tae warmth and summer. Aye, I pray it is here soon.” As he pretended to sip the beer, having no intention of drinking any more of it, the scout gulped heavily.
Aye, he’s definitely nervous.
“We may be waiting a while fer that.” The man scoffed then coughed, clearly finding the beer as unappetizing as Kai did.
“Ye ken why we are here then.” Kai leaned forward, determined to get to the crux of their meeting. “What can ye tell me?”
The man wiped his mouth uneasily, looked about his shoulders, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.
“The English. They’re encroaching more and more onto the Highlanders’ territory.” For the first time, Kai noticed there was something more to the Scottish lilt in the man’s voice. There was an English note too.
“Ye have English blood?”
“English maither, Scottish faither.” The man shifted, his face turning pink. Clearly, he had hoped this wouldn’t be noticed. “I fight fer Scotland.”
“Then why are ye nervous? Why worry about telling me these things?”
Once more, the man shifted uncomfortably.
“Because the clan I report tae is considering an alliance with the English. It’s what the English are doing. They’re working their way into our land by diplomacy. Or buying allegiance, call it what ye like.”
“Dae ye think there will be a battle?”
“Nay. Nae yet.” The man shook his head sharply. “They’re too busy having political discussions. I come tae offer yer laird a warning. That is all. Be wary of the riches the English offer ye and beware of clans ye think are yer friends. They may yet be bought.” He spoke with earnestness, not looking away from Kai’s gaze now.
Aye, he is telling the truth.
Kai knew it without having to doubt himself.
“Then I thank ye fer yer information.” Kai nodded. “What did ye risk tae come and tell me this?”
“Me position.” The man shifted. “I’m already nae trusted by some in me own clan because of me English maither, but I willnae let the English wipe out Scotland inch by inch without doing something about it.” The passion was evident. “It is right someone kens, even if me clan intends tae dae naething about it.”
He stood sharply as the door opened. Kai didn’t even look who had walked in this time, for his eyes were set on the man before him. The scout’s hand had gone to the weapons in his belt.
He fears fer his life.
“Then ye best get out of here fast.” Kai put some coins on the table. “Take this. Get yerself a fresh horse and ride home. Thank ye, again.”
The man nodded, jerkily took the coins, and left, sweeping out of the door as quickly as he arrived, with people cursing as the door was opened and more snow came in across the floor.
Kai sat forward after the man had gone. Now this meeting was done, he felt a calm washing over him.
“Aye, it was the truth,” he muttered, staring down into the tankard, knowing in his gut it was. In a way, it was reassuring. No impending battle meant they could protect their forces, rebuild themselves, take care of their clan, yet it was still a cause for concern. Maybe the English intended to make the Scottish their own by buying everyone.
I need tae tell Domhnall.
It was a heavy burden of responsibility. As one of the lairds’ brothers, he knew each of them had a responsibility and a task to attend to in order to keep the clan safe. Kai’s place had come naturally. He was built for quick riding, and his astuteness made him a good judge of character and a man’s honesty.
He pushed the tankard away, not intending to drink anymore as he sat back and debated what to do next. He could go back to Dunvegan castle, report to Domhnall tonight, yet there was an allure to the idea of finding company for the night and going back in the morning. He also didn’t particularly want to drink alone.
He looked around the tavern, seeing many women. Some clearly sold themselves, but there were others who wouldn’t charge. They were here to look for a good night themselves.
There was one particular lass who caught his eye. She was blonde. He had to force himself to look away. His taste for blonde hair in particular stemmed from thinking too much of one woman. It would do no good to sleep with that lass and constantly imagine she was another.
He pushed the tankard aside and stood. Maybe he could share one drink with a lass in this tavern, see what happened. There was always the chance that drink and a night together, full of pleasure, could wash away that part of him which was broken, the part he always tried to mask and stuff down, so he never had to look it in the face.
As he stood, he felt someone at his shoulder. His hand went to the broadsword at his hip. He was ready. If a man was going to pick his pocket, he wouldn’t get far.
“I have been looking for ye. I have an offer tae make ye.” The lass’ voice intrigued him, but what piqued his interest even more were her words.
An offer? What offer, lass?
“I am willing tae pay whatever it takes.”
Wait… that voice.
Kai whipped around fast, turning so quickly that the lass standing at his shoulder stepped back to avoid colliding with him.
This is nae possible!
The woman before him shouldn’t have been here. The blonde hair shouldn’t be there, those hazel eyes, the full cheeks, the wide mouth that was so kissable and yet out of reach.
“Ava?” he hissed in alarm as her perfect lips fell apart in an ‘o’ shape of shock. It was the woman he had loved hopelessly for years, the one he could never have, the one he had to love quietly from a distance and be nothing more to her than her closest friend. “What in God’s name are ye doing here?”
It was a cloudy day, the air turning sharp with chill, but no one in the clan seemed to mind when the wine flowed freely and the great hall was filled with people and laughter, everyone gathered there to celebrate Dunn’s and Elayne’s wedding. The crowd was merry, as it always was when it was time to feast, but the most important thing to Evander was that his brother was happy.
It had been a while since he had seen Dunn smile so sincerely. Though his brother was always cheerful, Evander had been concerned, at times, that a big part of it was a performance he was putting on for other people’s sake. Now he could tell it was real. With Elayne by his side, Dunn was truly happy.
Evander wasn’t so lucky himself. He sat at the table along with the merry couple, his betrothed sitting quietly by his side.
He and Enna had not spoken a single word to each other that entire evening. Evander couldn’t claim that he had made any effort to speak with her, of course, as ever since his betrothal to her had been announced, he had done his best to avoid her. On the other hand, she hadn’t made any effort either and so they ended up sitting side by side that evening, both of them in complete silence unless they were speaking to someone else. Not that she was a bad or boring lass, he just… didn’t care.
Still, this marriage was for the best. He wasn’t as lucky as his brothers, who had all found love. The only woman he had ever loved had broken his heart a long time ago and since then, Evander hadn’t even entertained the idea of trying to find someone else. In fact, it was better if he didn’t love his betrothed, he thought. The last thing he needed was feelings clouding his judgement. Enna, for all her spiritedness and stubbornness, was a good woman from a good family. That was all Evander needed—someone who would be a solid, positive presence in his life. And of course, it didn’t hurt that her family had land, riches, and influence. In the end, that was what mattered the most.
His brothers had married for love. He was going to marry to bring a valuable ally to his clan.
“Shall we dance?”
It was the first words Enna had spoken to him that day and Evander slowly turned to look at her, unable to keep the surprise from showing on his features. He didn’t know what it was that Enna was trying to achieve—every other couple in the family was dancing, that much was true, but that didn’t mean they had to join them.
Besides, Enna could hardly look at him for more than a few moments. It was his appearance, he knew; those tattoos on his skin that she found too menacing, too disturbing. It was unfortunate for her, since she would have to put up with looking at him for the rest of her life, but Evander couldn’t really bring himself to care. Enna was a beautiful woman, there was no doubt about that, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have to make his own sacrifices for this marriage.
“I dinnae dance,” said Evander, turning his gaze back to the crowd. Though he couldn’t see Enna’s expression, he was certain she was anything but pleased. The very air around him seemed to get colder and he couldn’t help but shudder, no matter how momentarily.
“Ye could make an exception,” Enna said and there was a strain to her voice, as though she was trying her best to remain polite, to keep up the appearances. Evander himself wasn’t as concerned with such things, though he wasn’t going to start a fight in the middle of the feast.
“Why?” he asked, this time turning to pin her with his gaze. He wasn’t surprised to see that Enna held it, never once averting her eyes. “What does it matter if we dance?”
“It is better than sittin’ here in silence,” she said. “It is only a dance. Perhaps ye will even enjoy it.”
Evander was quick to shake his head. “I doubt that. I never enjoyed dancin’. If ye wish tae dance, I am sure ye can find another partner.”
Enna scoffed, looking at Evander in disbelief for a few moments, before she pushed herself off her chair and left the table. From the other side of it, Evander caught Alec’s gaze, his brother’s disappointment palpable between them.
He had been the one to insist Evander didn’t have to marry Enna, but now he wanted him to act like a good husband. He knew his brother understood this was nothing but a marriage of convenience, as he had told Evander time and time again there were other options, that the future of the clan didn’t depend on this alliance and so he didn’t need to secure it. Why was he so insistent, then, on trying to get them to act like a proper couple?
With a sigh, Evander also made to leave the table. He needed some fresh air, some space to breathe away from all those people, and so he weaved his way through the crowd and stepped out into the courtyard. The sounds from the feast spilled outside through the windows, but it was quieter there, with no one but a few guards and a few guests milling about the grounds, either alone or with company, trying to find a secluded place.
He didn’t go very far. He only lingered by the door, taking a few breaths of the crisp night air, his mind slowly emptying. His fate truly wasn’t so bad. There were worse things than marrying someone he didn’t love. At least this way, he was certain his heart would never break again. Enna didn’t have the power to hurt him.
His thoughts began to drift to May, as they often did when he thought about his marriage. There was a time he was convinced he would marry her, the girl of his dreams. There was a time he had wanted nothing more than to call her his wife, but that time was long gone now, like she was.
She had made her choice. She had left him and even if Evander could do something to bring her back, he never would. He wouldn’t stoop so low as to beg or scheme. As much as it pained him to think about it—and it certainly did, the mere thought of it like a knife to the gut—May simply didn’t love him. Perhaps she never had or perhaps her feelings had faded with time.
Perhaps his would, too, in the future.
Until then he was cursed to think of her every time he saw Enna. Though they neither looked nor sounded alike, simply looking at his betrothed reminded Evander of May, and perhaps that was why he could not bear to be around her. The ache in his chest was too strong. The void inside him only kept growing.
Where are ye now, May? What life are ye livin’?
Evander didn’t know nor did he want to find out. He had been perfectly clear that no one was to say a single word about May in his presence, and so far, for the past ten years, everyone seemed to be following his request. Perhaps they didn’t talk about her at all or even knew anything about her life. Perhaps he was the only one still clinging to the past.
Then Evander heard a familiar pair of footsteps, and he turned around to see Dunn approaching, two cups of wine in his hands. He passed one to Evander who took it gratefully, draining half its contents in one gulp.
“Are ye all right, braither?” Dunn asked. Though he tried to mask it behind a teasing smile, Evander could tell he was worried.
He didn’t want him to worry. This was his big day.
“I am perfectly fine,” he assured him. “What are ye doin’ here? Shouldnae ye be with yer wife?”
“Me wife is schemin’ with Catreena,” Dunn said with a wary sigh. “I can only imagine what our dear sister is tellin’ her about me.”
“Only the best, I’m sure,” said Evander, truly smiling for the first time that night. “If ye dinnae pull Elayne away, Catreena will speak tae her fer the rest o’ the night.”
“Ach, we cannae have that,” Dunn said. “I’ll distract Elayne while ye distract Catreena.”
It was nothing but a thinly-veiled ploy to get Evander back inside, to get him out of his own head. Evander could tell, but he still followed Dunn, huffing out a laugh at his brother’s antics. There he was, at his own wedding, trying to cheer Evander up because he couldn’t go a single day without letting the past swallow him like a tide.
Back inside, the crowds sang and danced. Enna was among them, finally enjoying herself. With any luck, she would manage to build a home there, even if Evander couldn’t give her his love.
With any luck, they could even be friends in the end.
Don’t miss your link for the whole book at the end of the preview.
Prologue
One month earlier, Dunmaglass
The air was warm on Elayne’s skin, the breeze only a momentary relief as she rode with her guards through the forest. It was high summer and late in the morning, so the sun had shone relentlessly on them as they travelled down the path from Macgillivray Castle to her aunt’s cottage.
We should have left sooner. It’s so hot today!
The cottage was only half a day’s ride away, but Elayne felt as though she had been travelling for an eternity, the air uncharacteristically still, even for a July morning. It was better than travelling any other day of the past week, though, which they had all spent in the castle, keeping dry from the endless rain.
“We should have brought ye a carriage, me lady,” said one of her guards, Craig. He had been Elayne’s guard ever since she could remember, and was one of the people who raised her, along with her wet nurses and governess. All these years later, his skin had wrinkled and his brown hair was almost completely grey, but he still resembled the young man Elayne had once known.
Most of all, he still fussed over her as if she were a child.
“I’m fine, Craig,” Elayne assured him. “I can handle a half day’s ride.”
“I suppose it’s a good thing ye’re dressed simply,” her other guard, Lachlan, said. Unlike Craig, Lachlan was a young man, broad and tall, tasked with her protection for the first time. “Though ye resemble a maid in these garments.”
“There are many brigands in these parts,” said Elayne. “It’s wiser tae dress simply than tae attract attention.”
Craig had been the one to suggest it in the first place, so that it would not be immediately obvious that she was a noble-born girl. She hoped that if a brigand saw her like this, he wouldn’t be able to tell she was Elayne Macgillivray, daughter of Laird Lewis Macgillivray.
Of course, the plan would only work if the brigands didn’t recognize her especially if they didn’t question why a maid would travel with two guards. Though Craig and Lachlan were similarly dressed, both in simple clothes so as to look like companions, there was an air about them that anyone who had been around guards for enough time would recognize.
It was something that kept nagging Elayne, for she had the growing suspicion that someone was watching them. While they were still close to the castle, she hadn’t suspected anything, but as they rode deeper and deeper into the forest, she could swear there were eyes on her, watching her every move. Neither Craig nor Lachlan seemed concerned at all, though, and Elayne didn’t want to ask them to stop for no reason. They weren’t too far from the cottage now; sooner rather than later, her paranoia would be silenced.
She was simply glad to be out of the castle while Laird McCoy was visiting. The mere thought of him, of his hands somehow always finding their way on her body no matter how much she tried to keep her distance, nauseated her. It didn’t matter that he was handsome. It was true that his features were far from revolting, but his character more than made up for it. He was the cruelest man she knew, more so even than her father, and the ten years that separated them were very obvious when they stood side by side. Next to him, Elayne still resembled a child.
As they rode through the forest, they soon reached the part of the journey where they could hear the trickling of water from the nearby river. Elayne had always hated hearing it, but there was no other road leading to her aunt’s cottage. If she followed the river all the way back up the valley, she would reach the lake where she had almost drowned as a child, if her mother hadn’t saved her, drowning herself—the lake that made her father hate her, unable to forgive her for her mother’s death. Elayne couldn’t forgive herself either.
As painful as the memory of that day was, she didn’t try to cover the sound of the water by talking—she never did. She deserved to remember, to have those memories re-emerge every time she passed by the river, though it could hardly make up for what she had done.
There was something else that pulled her out of her thoughts, though: a sudden sound, loud and clear, which had all three of them looking over their shoulders to locate its source. Suddenly, four men appeared out of the thick greenery of the forest, two behind them and two in front of them, short, gleaming daggers ready in their hands.
“Brigands!” Craig shouted as he jumped off his horse. Neither he nor Lachlan carried a sword, but they both had multiple blades hidden on them, and Elayne knew those men, though they outnumbered them, would be no match for her and her guards.
Her own dirk was strapped to her leg and she grabbed it, ready to jump off her horse and fight. Before she could, though, one of the men approached her, spooking her horse so much that it bucked and tried to kick at him. The horse missed, and Elayne tightened her hold on it, trying desperately to hold on, but when it bucked again, it threw her off its back and fled down the path.
Elayne landed on the ground with a thud and a groan, rolling just as she made impact to avoid the worst of the injury. She could only hope her mare would stop somewhere nearby and that she would be able to retrieve her once it was all over.
I must recover fast. I cannae stay like this.
It would be a death sentence, staying on the ground. One of those brigands would soon find her and kill her. Still, breathing seemed impossible, the air knocked out of her lungs after she had hit the ground, her ribs and her arms aching with the aftermath of her fall. She could hardly draw in any air, let alone stand.
In the chaos, a pair of hands grabbed her and dragged her into the bushes that lined the road. Elayne screamed, but one of those hands quickly muffled her protests, keeping her quiet. In the distance, she saw Craig and Lachlan surrounded by the four men, fighting a losing fight.
This is it… this is how we all die.
“Are ye alright?” asked a soft, quiet voice. “Did ye get hurt?”
For a moment, Elayne froze, not expecting the man to sound concerned. Why would he care if she had been hurt? Perhaps he needed her to be unharmed in order to negotiate with her father, but the concern in his tone didn’t match the kind of concern he would have for his bounty.
It didn’t matter, though. What mattered was that he had released her, and Elayne could finally push herself to her feet and swing her fist, barely missing him when he managed to duck just in time.
That didn’t matter either. She had her blade. Even if she had to fight all of them herself, she would.
Raising her blade, she took a step closer to the young man, but he only backtracked, raising his hands in surrender. Surely, it couldn’t be that easy; he was only trying to lull her into a false sense of security before he attacked.
For the first time, Elayne gave herself a few seconds to take in his features: hair so blond it seemed almost white, a strong jaw, a slightly crooked nose. And then there were those eyes, icy blue, a jagged scar running over them both, from temple to temple.
He was a big man, tall and broad, his frame much bigger than Elayne’s. In some ways, it was an advantage for her. Everyone assumed her to be fragile, short and lithe as she was, so they underestimated her. She may not have had as much brute strength as this man, but she knew her way around a knife and she was faster than any bulky soldier.
“Calm down, lass,” the man said, still backtracking and trying to put some space between them. “I willnae hurt ye, I promise. I’m nae one o’ them.”
Elayne didn’t believe him straight away. It would be foolish to do so. But the more she looked at him, the more she realized everything about this man was different, from his clothes to the heavy sword he carried around his waist. Slowly, she lowered her blade and at the same time, the man lowered his hands.
“Stay here,” he told her quietly and, as he walked past her, he pressed his finger against his lips, asking her to be quiet. Elayne watched him draw his sword out of its sheath and slowly sneak out of the bushes, suddenly attacking the brigands and taking them by surprise.
By then, both Craig and Lachlan lay still on the ground and Elayne had to swallow down the bile that threatened to rise up her throat. Could they be dead? There was no blood that she could see, but that meant nothing. Perhaps it was only because their bodies and the greenery obscured her view.
She couldn’t allow herself to believe they were dead, not even for a moment. She couldn’t have two more deaths on her hands.
Instead, Elayne watched the mysterious man as he fought off the brigands. He had an advantage with the sword, but he also knew how to use it, his movements elegant and practiced. It was almost like a dance, his feet light as he jumped and slid around the four brigands, his arms strong as he brought down his sword. It was then that Elayne was certain he was no brigand. He was nothing like those men who had attacked her and her guards. This man had been trained to fight.
It didn’t take him long to kill the four men single-handedly. By the end of it, he was covered in their blood, some of his own trickling into the mix where the brigands had managed to wound him. The men had collapsed around him and he stood in the middle of them, drawing in slow, ragged breaths for a few moments. She should have been scared of him, terrified even… But she wasn’t, not at all. When he had composed himself, he walked over to Craig and Lachlan, and Elayne rushed out of the bushes, her dirk in her hand once more.
“Dinnae touch them,” she growled, and the man flinched, not expecting such a reaction.
“I only wished tae see if they’re alive,” he said. He watched Elayne carefully as he slowly made his way towards Craig and pressed his fingers against his neck, where he could feel his pulse, and the relief that washed over his features was palpable.
Elayne didn’t know, though, if it came from finding him alive or dead. Just in case, she stood there, ready to strike.
The man walked over to Lachlan and did the same, before approaching Elayne once more. “They’re alive. They should wake soon.”
It was Elayne’s turn to be relieved, her shoulders finally dropping as she allowed herself to relax a little. If this stranger wanted to hurt her, he would have already done so, she figured, so letting her guard down didn’t seem like a bad idea.
The man was close to her before she knew it, his fingers poking and prodding at her head and her arms as Elayne stood there, at a loss for words. He seemed to have no problem touching a woman he didn’t know, but then again, he probably thought Elayne was a maid, not a noble girl who wasn’t used to anyone’s touch.
“Ye’re nae injured, are ye?” he asked her. “Does anythin’ hurt?”
“Nay,” said Elayne. The only thing that hurt was her chest, her heart beating so fast she feared she would collapse, sending all the blood in her body to her face. “I’m alright. Thank ye… they could have killed us if ye hadnae come.”
“I’m always glad tae help a damsel,” said the man, grinning from ear to ear. The gesture deformed his scar even more, but Elayne was surprised to find out she didn’t mind it at all. There was something alluring about it and it did nothing to detract from his beauty. “Though I cannae say ye were so much in distress. Ye fight well.”
Though Elayne could fight, she could hardly take a compliment, and she lowered her gaze as her cheeks burned, trying to hide the blush. When she spoke again, she chose a safer topic.
“Ye’re nae from these parts, are ye?” she asked. She would know if he was. “What’s yer name?”
“Dunn,” said the man. “An’ nay… I was passin’ through when I saw ye were all in danger.”
“Dunn,” Elayne repeated, trying out the name. It suited him, she thought. “What clan dae ye belong tae?”
Dunn only smiled at her question and then busied himself with his sword, cleaning it and tucking it safely back in its sheath. She wasn’t going to get an answer, it seemed.
“Shall I accompany ye tae yer destination?” Dunn asked after a short stretch of silence. He looked over his shoulder at Craig and Lachlan and Elayne followed his gaze to see them stirring. “Yer guards are already awake.”
“They’re… they’re nae me guards,” Elayne said. “Only me travellin’ companions.”
Dunn gave her a slightly amused look. Still, he didn’t try to correct her, and that convinced Elayne he could see right through their disguises. “Yer companions, then. They’re wakin’.”
Glancing between Dunn and her guards, Elayne shook her head. “We’ll be fine. Thank ye. It’s only half an hour’s ride from here.”
“Very well,” said Dunn. He had pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and was dabbing at the blood on his face. When he tucked it back in, he leaned closer and pressed his lips against Elayne’s into a soft kiss before she could do anything to resist.
A gasp escaped her, her eyes slipping shut. It was the barest brush of lips, but it was more than Elayne had ever experienced before, so even that simple, tender gesture stole her breath away.
When she opened her eyes again, Dunn was gone, and Craig and Lachlan were pushing themselves off the ground, brushing the dirt off their clothes.
Looking over at Elayne, Craig asked, “What happened?”
Elayne looked at him, then at the bodies on the ground. Then, she looked at the space Dunn had occupied only moments before, now entirely empty.
“I dinnae ken.”
Chapter One
Present, The Seven Stars Inn
The smell of ale and wine permeated the air around Elayne. The inn was small, the only one in the village, so she had no other options if she wanted to be inside during the storm.
I should have listened tae me aunt an’ stayed with her at her cottage.
It would have surely been preferable to this, even if it would have delayed her return home, but when she had left her aunt’s home, she had had good reason.
Once again, she read the letter she held in her hands, the paper crumpled from the number of times she had folded and unfolded it, clutching it tightly between her fingers. It had arrived at her aunt’s cottage right before Elayne had left, a warning from her best friend Isobel that her father had planned her marriage to Laird McCoy in her absence.
I cannae believe he would dae such a thing.
Only, the more she thought about it, the more plausible it became. Her father wanted to rid himself of her and gain as much land as he could, and what better way to do that than marry her off to Laird McCoy? That way, both men would get what they wanted—her father would have his lands and he would never have to see Elayne again, and Laird McCoy could finally force her into his bed without anyone else objecting to it.
But even fer me faither, this is too much.
Elayne slammed her hands onto the sticky table, the cup of ale in front of her almost tipping over before she steadied it. She took a few long gulps, though she had already had too much to drink. At the beginning of the night, she had come down from her room to have one cup but now she had already drained three and was well on her way through the fourth. She couldn’t think of any other way to drown her sorrows or steel herself for the conversation she was going to have with her father.
She would refuse to marry McCoy. She would do anything in her power to prevent this wedding from happening or she would die trying.
But what can I dae? Me faither will never allow me tae say nay.
Maybe death really was her only other choice and compared to marrying Laird McCoy, it seemed like the better option.
There was no one for Elayne to even turn to. Under any other circumstances, she would have asked Craig for help or at least advice, but he and Lachlan hadn’t made it to the inn yet. Perhaps the storm had delayed them as they were returning to the cottage to bring her back home or perhaps they had made it there and decided to spend the night, like Elayne had, under a roof before resuming their travel the following morning.
Elayne would leave with or without them. She knew the woods well and she could take care of herself, so going back home shouldn’t be an issue. The matter of her wedding couldn’t wait.
As she drained her fourth cup of ale, she glimpsed a large figure from the corner of her eye. The man sat down on the chair next to her and Elayne braced herself for an argument or maybe even a fight. She was in no mood to act like the nice noble girl she had been brought up to be that night. If he refused to leave her alone, he would find himself in a lot of trouble.
“Find yer own table,” Elayne said, hearing herself as she slurred her words. For the first time that night, she realized she was a little tipsy, but she was certain her nausea wasn’t from the alcohol. It was from the thought that upon returning to the castle, she would see Laird McCoy and he would once again put his hands on her, thinking he was more entitled than ever to her body.
“Is this how ye speak tae the man who saved yer life?”
It was a strangely familiar voice and Elayne turned to look at the man next to her, only to find it was none other than Dunn. Her mouth fell open as she stared at him, suddenly appearing next to her in the same way he had disappeared a month prior. In the dim light of the inn, he looked even more mysterious, like a phantom instead of a person. His features, those blue eyes and his pale hair, made him seem otherworldly.
“Dunn,” she gasped, still unable to believe he was there. “What are ye doin’ here?”
“Here at yer table or here in the area?”
“Both,” said Elayne. “Either.”
“Ye seemed very sad, so I wanted tae see if ye wished tae have company,” said Dunn. It didn’t surprise Elayne that he remained quiet regarding the reason of his presence in the area. “I never expected tae see ye again.”
“Neither did I.” Elayne certainly needed more ale now. In the half-light of the room, she gazed at him more openly than she would have had she been sober, letting her eyes trail over his features before they settled on the scar across his eyes.
“Daes it frighten ye?”
Elayne was too busy staring at Dunn to understand what he meant, and she made a questioning sound, frowning at him.
Dunn laughed softly. “The scar,” he said. “Daes it frighten ye?”
“Ach… nay,” said Elayne. “Why would it frighten me?”
“It has frightened many.”
A scar was hardly enough to frighten Elayne, especially when it was attached to such a handsome man. Ever since that day in the forest, she had been unable to stop thinking about him, about that kiss he had given her, replaying it in her mind again and again.
“How did it happen?” she asked, just to keep him talking.
“In a vicious fight,” Dunn said. “I was almost blinded.”
It would have been a shame, Elayne thought, if something had happened to those beautiful eyes. She could get lost in them, staring at them forever, but even in her drunken state she could tell it would be odd if she continued to stare like that. Clearing her throat, she sat up a little straighter, trying to fight off the dizziness that came with the movement.
“So, here ye are… an’ ye willnae even tell me the reason,” she said after a short silence that stretched between them. “I promise ye, I willnae tell anyone. I have nae one tae tell.”
For a moment, Dunn seemed conflicted. He looked over his shoulders at the people around them, the inn so crowded that no one was paying them any mind. Still, he was reluctant, keeping quiet.
“What could be such a big secret?” asked Elayne. “Ye cannae simply tell me naething now!”
Dunn huffed out a laugh, shrugging a shoulder. “Very well,” he said, leaning closer to speak quietly to Elayne. “I am here as a scout. There are rumors there will be a war led by Clan Macgillivray. I’m here tae gather information but, I dinnae ken. I’ve been here fer months an’ nae one seems tae ken anythin’ about a war. The villagers are as clueless as ever.”
A war? What war could there be?
Elayne had heard nothing about a war. These were times of peace and her father had strong alliances with other clans. Why would he risk going to war? What else could he possibly want?
“Perhaps the rumors are false,” was all she could say.
“Perhaps,” said Dunn. “But I doubt it. There are many outside these parts who are talkin’ about it. If I could somehow enter the castle, then maybe I would find out what is happenin’, but I have nae hope o’ achievin’ that. I will never be able tae enter the castle walls.”
Perhaps her betrothal to Laird McCoy had something to do with this. Elayne wasn’t willing to dismiss this as nothing but rumors just yet. Knowing her father, it wouldn’t surprise her to find out that he had, after all, been planning to start a war in search of more power and more land. Those were the only two things that kept him going since her mother’s death, the only two things he craved in life.
“Well, I certainly, havenae heard anythin’ in the castle,” Elayne said with a small shrug. “But perhaps yer right. I wouldnae ken.”
“Ye live in the castle?” Dunn asked. “Are ye a maid there?”
Elayne frowned, wondering why he would ask that, but then she realized that the only two times they had met, she had been dressed in those clothes, the ones she had worn specifically for her trip. What else would he assume other than her being a maid? She certainly looked the part—she had made sure of it. But he hadn’t seemed convinced about her denial, when he had mentioned her travelling with guards the previous time, they had met.
“Somethin’ like that,” she said, not wanting to reveal the truth. She trusted Dunn, as he had saved her life, but that didn’t mean she was about to reveal her true identity to him. Danger still lurked everywhere around Elayne and she was unwilling to take any risks.
Just as she was about to speak again, a serving wench came by their table, refilling their cups. She lingered there a little too long, smiling coyly at Dunn, and he smiled back at her, raising his cup in a toast. As she left, she kept looking over her shoulder at him, much to Elayne’s amusement.
“Ye’re popular with the lasses, then?” she asked, raising a curious eyebrow. In response, Dunn only laughed, saying nothing on the matter, but it was obvious when Elayne began to look. A lot of women in the inn had their sights on him, watching him through the crowd.
For a while, Elayne busied herself with her cup, spinning it in her hands. Even though a silence fell between them, Dunn seemed in no hurry to leave, so she took a few sips, enjoying the lull in the conversation. It was comfortable, oddly enough. They didn’t need to fill the silence.
Still, there was a nagging thought in Elayne’s mind and in the end, she couldn’t help but ask, “How dae ye think a lass can escape an unwanted marriage?”
The question took Dunn by surprise. He turned to face Elayne fully, though he didn’t seem at all confused by it. “I see, is that why ye’re so sad, then?”
Elayne nodded wordlessly. How could she be anything but devastated when she knew she would be forced into a marriage with such a terrible man? Growing up, she had thought her wedding would be a joyous moment, that her father would find her the perfect match, but that was before her mother’s death. It was before he changed, before grief had turned him into a monster.
“Well, I suppose the only way tae escape it is tae marry someone else, dinnae ye think?” Dunn said after a few moments of deep thought. “Yer family is arrangin’ the marriage fer ye?”
“Aye,” said Elayne, but Dunn’s suggestion had already distracted her. How could she marry someone else? Where would she even find a man to marry her on such short notice?
But then an idea bloomed into her head. She looked at Dunn, taking in his handsome features, the kind smile, the warmth in his eyes that one wouldn’t expect from such an icy color. So far, he had been nothing but helpful to her, going as far as to save her life from those brigands. When he had seen her in the inn and realized she was upset, he had gone over to talk to her.
And, of course, he was a man. A handsome one, even.
“Dunn,” Elayne said, leaning a little closer to close the distance between them. “Are ye betrothed tae someone?”
“Nay,” Dunn said with a small frown, this time confused by her question.
This is excellent. He is precisely what I need.
“Perfect! Then ye could pretend tae be wedded tae me!”
Laughing, Dunn shook his head as if this was a joke. But then he saw how serious and how excited Elayne was and his smile slowly dropped.
“Ye cannae mean it.”
“O’ course I mean it,” said Elayne. “This is the perfect solution. I can escape this marriage an’ ye can come tae the castle. This is what ye needed, is it nae?”
Dunn sputtered for a few moments, at a loss for words. When he spoke, his voice was higher than his usual baritone. “Ye’re insane! I cannae pretend tae be yer husband! Ye dinnae even ken anythin’ about me. I could be insane. I could try tae murder ye.”
“If ye wished tae murder me, ye would have already done it,” Elayne pointed out. “Or ye would have let the brigands kill me. Either way, ye didnae. Ye saved me life, ye didnae try tae take advantage o’ me nor did ye rob me. Ye have proven tae me that ye’re a good man.”
“I absolutely willnae dae this,” Dunn insisted, already leaning away from Elayne. Before he could get too far, though, she grabbed his arm and stopped him, looking him straight in the eye.
“The castle,” she reminded him. “Ye said ye need the information.”
With a sigh, Dunn looked around as if he expected someone to rescue him from this conversation. The more he considered it, though, the more he relaxed in Elayne’s grip, until he was fully sitting back in his seat.
“Why would ye wish tae help me?” he asked.
“We’d be helpin’ each other,” Elayne reminded him. “I am nae doin’ this without gettin’ somethin’ in return. An’ it’s best fer everyone if there isnae a war. The clan is weak… a war would be madness.”
If anything, Elayne needed him more than Dunn needed her, but he didn’t have to know that. If the clan truly went to war, Elayne was certain they would lose. The previous wars had left them weakened, many of their soldiers gone in battle.
Still, despite the promise of help, Dunn was reluctant to agree. “Are ye tryin’ tae trick me?”
Elayne shook her head. “Nay. I promise ye. I will dae anythin’ ye ask. The only thing I willnae dae is allow ye tae touch me. Ye must understand that I have nae desire tae wed an’ this will only be a fake marriage, so if ye think I will fall intae bed with ye, ye should tell me now so I can find someone else.”
Dunn laughed, loud and delighted, as if Elayne’s warning amused him. “Ye didnae complain when I kissed ye.”
It was Elayne’s turn to sputter, throwing her hands up in exasperation. How presumptuous of him to think she had enjoyed that kiss! She had, of course, enjoyed it, but that was beside the point as far as she was concerned.
“I only allowed it because ye saved me life,” she said indignantly. “I willnae allow it again.”
Dunn gave her a lopsided grin, one Elayne was certain was popular with women, but she was determined not to be swayed by his charms. This was nothing but a business transaction. As Dunn considered it silently, Elayne tapped her fingers impatiently on the table, the tapping rhythm of them drowned out by the voices in the inn.
“Alright,” Dunn said eventually with a decisive nod, before he reached for Elayne’s arm to pull her closer—too close for her liking. “Ye have a deal. But I promise ye, by the end o’ this, ye’ll be beggin’ fer a kiss.”
Alistair knew, at that moment, that he had lost the war against his desire. The lass could not possibly know the import of what she was saying. “You do not know what you are asking for,” he said. It was a last-ditch attempt to save her from his passion.
“I do,” Jane said, looking at him. There was defiance in her gaze. “I do.”
His resolve broke.
He kissed her with all the longing that he felt, and she responded ardently. But then he noticed that she was withdrawn.
That was more than a little disappointing. “Where is your mind, lass?” he asked.
“I was thinking about…clothes,” Jane returned.
“Clothes? You are thinking about clothes when I am kissing you? Perhaps you want me to stop?”
He made to leave, but she reached for his kilt. That was more than enough to restore his fervor. “Indecent thoughts indeed,” he murmured against her lips. “You wanted this from the start.” He undid it himself, and watched her look down, her face dimming in worry.
“It worries you.” Alistair said into her ear while he pulled down her dress so her breasts were exposed. “It should not. I will be very, very gentle with you. Do not think at all. Only feel.” Jane nodded at his reassurance, and he smiled reassuringly at her.
“You are beautiful, Jane,” Alistair said, his eyes on her breast. “Beautiful.” He bent down and captured one nipple in his mouth. It was soft, plump, perfect in his mouth. A moan escaped Jane, and she clutched at his head.
His lips moved to the other breast as he pulled her slip down. And then he carried her to his bed. He kissed a path from her breasts to her belly to the tangle of curls at the apex of her thighs. Jane started. She sat up and tried to push him away, but he did not move.
From between her legs, he looked directly into her eyes. At the first flick of his tongue, Jane keened. She locked her legs together, so that Alistair was trapped between them, and she clamped her hands over her mouth.
She burst into tears when she reached her climax.
Alistair felt his member strain.
Jane hid her face in his bed, but Alistair would not allow that. “Why are you hiding your pleasure, my lass?” he asked.
“The others… in the castle…they’ll hear.”
Alistair chuckled. “They can hear nothing. And if they could, what would it matter? I am told that our attraction is blatant.”
“Oh,” Jane said. “And of course they fault you for bedding an English miss.”
He silenced her with a kiss. “Jane,” he said, after he pulled away from her. His fingers insinuated themselves between her legs. He stroked her, and, through hooded lids, watched her.
“Jane,” he said again, more insistently this time.
“Alistair.”
“When we are together, nothing else matters. The castle, the matters of state. England and Scotland. There is you.” He brought the hand between her legs up and sucked on his thumb. This made Jane’s breath catch. He returned the hand and continued the stroking. “And there is me. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes.” Jane whispered breathlessly.
“What did I say, my sweet? Tell me.” His thumb was faster now, and he could see that she was struggling to form words.
“That there is only you and me!” she squeaked in one desperate breath.
“Good girl.” Alistair said, just as Jane shook in release.
He waited for her shocks to subside. There was a satisfied smile on his face.
“Sweetling,” he whispered in her ears, “this will hurt you a little.”
“I know,” Jane said, and squeezed her eyes shut.
“No, look at me,” Alistair instructed. He could not have her tense, for that would make for an uncomfortable first time. “I would never cause you pain intentionally, Jane,” he said earnestly.
Jane nodded and said she knew.
Alistair bot her nipples. He entered her slowly, his eyes fixed on her face. When he pushed past her maidenhead, she winced, but otherwise, she was calm. He began to move slowly, giving her time to adjust. Slowly, Jane began to move with him, and this satisfied Alistair greatly. She did not hide her pleasure this time.
When he was about to join her in release, he swiftly pulled out of her and spent himself on the floor. When he returned to her, she was smiling shyly. “Is that…is that what makes babies?”
“I hereby make a rule in my bed,” he announced, making a show of pouncing on her so that she squealed and rolled to the other side of the bed. “There shall be only loving. We shall reserve talking for the fields or the dinner table or the forest. And maybe the bath chamber.” He paused. “No, there shall be no talking in the bath chamber, either.”
Jane giggled. “Surely you do not mean that. So I cannot talk to you in the hallway, or in the kitchen, or by the lake?”
“The thought of us meeting in the kitchen is quite wild,” Alistair said. “You are a captive, and I am the laird.”
“Very well,” she said. “I make a rule in your bed, too.”
Alistair chuckled. “You cannot do that. It is my bed.”
“But in this moment, we are sharing it. Which makes it my bed, too.”
“Typical Englishwoman. Wanting to take things not belonging to you.”
Jane frowned.
Alistair sat up and said earnestly, “That was a joke, Jane. Purely a joke. You must believe me. Of course you can have rules in my bed.”
Jane said nothing still.
“Sweetling,” Alistair coaxed. He took a love bite of her shoulder and whispered sweet nothings in her ear. Jane squirmed against him, and when he looked in her eyes the light had returned to them.
“My first rule,” Jane said, doing her best to sound like a king, “is that there shall be no mention of the English-Scottish war.”
“A most wise choice, my liege,” Alistair said. “Will you be making any more rules today?
“Do not rush me, Ser Alistair!” she snapped.
“Never, never!” Alistair exclaimed, putting on a rather pitiful show of being subservient. Jane burst into laughter and Alistair watched her, a look of delight on his face. “I do hope the next rule you make is that I can ravish you as much as I want,” he said, his fingers tracing the outline of her lips.
Jane seemed to think about that for a moment, “You know what, Ser Alistair?” she said.
“What, my lady?” Alistair asked with a grin.
Jane grinned and locked her hands behind his neck. And Alistair decided that there was nothing quite like it, having Jane happy in his bed. “That might very well be my next rule.”
