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The Wedding

Page 33

by Julie Garwood


  She understood why a moment later. Connor was standing near the crest, his hands on his hips, his legs spread apart, wearing an expression that didn’t leave any doubt at all as to what he thought about her performance. She immediately redoubled her efforts to go the opposite way. Heaven help her, she even begged Willie to take mercy on her.

  The stubborn horse refused to obey her no matter how much she pleaded with him and pulled on his reins. He came to a rather jolting stop directly in front of his master just as she was leaning down close to the horse’s ear to let him know what she thought about his behavior. “Traitor.”

  Connor heard. He knew better than to say a word to her now, because in his present condition, once he got started, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from crushing her feelings.

  Brenna knew from the stark look in her husband’s eyes, she’d given him quite a scare. She wanted to tell him everything was all right. She didn’t dare. There was something in his expression that suggested she’d better not try to calm him down just yet.

  She decided to pretend she didn’t notice his anger. It was a bad plan, but then, she couldn’t think of a better one now.

  She straightened up and tried to look cheerful.

  “Are you pleased with my surprise?” she asked, knowing full well he wasn’t pleased at all; he was furious, and that was that. Still, there was always a hope, faint though it was, that she could bluff her way through the storm brewing inside her husband.

  She expected him to pull her off Willie or start shouting. He didn’t even touch the reins. He simply turned around and started walking back toward the stables.

  Willie meekly followed him. Crispin suddenly appeared on her right side, looking very pale, as though he’d just seen a frightening vision; if he’d spared her a glance, she would have asked him what had happened. Then Quinlan appeared on her left side, panting from his run, but looking very, very smug. He wouldn’t glance up at her either, so she couldn’t ask him why in heaven’s name he was so complacent.

  It wasn’t until they reached the stables that Connor finally spoke. He ordered Crispin to remove his wife from his stallion’s back and wait by her side while he had a word with Quinlan inside.

  The second the doors were closed behind them, Connor shouted to Davis. “Stay right where you are,” he ordered.

  “Would you like me to take your stallion off your hands?” Davis asked. “He seems a might agitated by your tone of voice.”

  He allowed Davis to take the reins before turning to Quinlan. “Start explaining.”

  “Nothing I can say can possibly justify my conduct. You have only one recourse open to you, Laird. You must remove me from this position with all possible haste.”

  “I’m angry, not stupid,” Connor snapped. “Can’t you control one woman? You damn well better learn how, because you’re staying in charge when it’s your turn. Now tell me, were you out of your mind to let my wife take such a risk? Everyone else seems to be. How could you let this happen?”

  “Let it happen, Connor? You’ve got to be jesting. I would have had more success getting the rain to stop than making your wife cooperate. I’ve done nothing but second-guess her and try to outwit her for the last two weeks, and all my efforts were wasted.”

  Connor raised his hand to get Quinlan to stop when he noticed Davis was trying to stroll out the back door yet again.

  “Davis,” he roared. “If you go out that door, you won’t die happy. Come here.”

  The stablemaster quickly obeyed. “I was just giving you some privacy, Laird, that was all. Did you want something more?”

  “I do. I want you to answer some questions for me.”

  “I wouldn’t ask him anything if I were you,” Quinlan suggested. “You’ll only end up more angry than you already are.”

  “That isn’t possible. Now, Davis, as you know, I listen before I act.”

  “I do know it for a certainty,” he agreed.

  “Did my wife go inside the black’s stall and put the bridle on him?”

  “No, she didn’t.”

  “Who did?”

  “I did.”

  Connor’s eyelid began to droop. “I see. Did you know my wife planned to take him out?”

  “I did,” he answered. “She’s the reason I went inside with the bridle in the first place.”

  Connor happened to notice Quinlan’s grin, shot him a hard look to let him know what he thought about that, and then directed his attention on Davis again.

  Quinlan couldn’t possibly stop smiling, for he knew what was coming.

  “Explain why you would do such a thing so that I won’t continue to believe you’re demented.”

  “Her smile, Laird, and that’s the sorry truth of it.”

  Connor blinked. “Her smile?”

  Davis nodded. “Her smile was my reason from start to finish. It’s plain trickery, I’m thinking, but I’ll never say it out loud because it would sound disloyal, and I’m not at all disloyal, only honest. And her heart,” he thought to add with a nod.

  “Her heart?”

  “Her heart is as pure as an angel’s, and so is her smile, but it’s her mind, you see, that’s giving me trouble. I’m thinking there’s something wrong with it, but I’m not coming right out and saying there is. Mi’lady isn’t like all the other ladies hereabouts. She thinks like a man, a clever man, and how was I to know? She never once lied to me. No, Laird, she didn’t.”

  “Then why did you allow her to take the black?”

  “Her smile.”

  “You’ll go around and around again the more you ask Davis. It always comes back to mi’lady’s smile,” Quinlan said.

  “And her heart, of course, because when she smiles, I can see she’s as pure as an angel . . .”

  Connor cut him off. “Davis, I suggest you leave the stables immediately. Come back after I’ve left, not before.”

  The old man didn’t have to be told more than once. He moved with the speed of a man who had just noticed the back of his pants were on fire.

  “Am I supposed to order my wife to stop smiling?”

  “It might help,” Quinlan suggested with a straight face. “You’ll also have to order her to stop thinking like a man.”

  “What in God’s name does that mean?”

  “She’s more intelligent than Davis.”

  “Is she more intelligent than you, Quinlan?”

  The soldier let out a sigh. “I’m not certain. She is definitely cleverer, however.”

  “She scared the hell out of me.”

  “I’m familiar with the feeling.”

  Neither man knew who started laughing first, but within seconds, they were overcome with amusement. Connor thought he was laughing because he was so relieved his wife hadn’t killed herself. Quinlan knew exactly why he was laughing. Crispin was going to get stuck with their mistress the next time their laird left the holding, and he couldn’t wait to find out what she would do under his watch.

  Brenna and Crispin both heard the noise. She couldn’t help but think she was the cause of their amusement, yet just as soon as Crispin noticed how crushed she looked, he casually said, “Don’t be concerned, mi’lady. Neither Connor nor Quinlan would laugh at Davis, or anyone else for that matter. It would be beneath them.”

  “Were you worried I thought they were laughing at me? I was,” she admitted before he had time to answer her. “But, it would be beneath me to think my husband or his friend would behave in such a fashion. I think I know why they’re having such a fine time,” she added.

  “And what might that be, mi’lady?”

  “Even though Connor won’t admit it to me, I think he enjoyed my surprise. Just wait until he sees the other ones.”

  “The other ones?” Crispin asked in a hoarse whisper.

  “The other surprises, of course.”

  For some reason she didn’t understand, Crispin found her comment hilarious. She patted his arm to let him know she didn’t mind and then decided that perhaps
it was all the laughter coming from inside that tickled his bones so and got him started.

  Of all the men, Connor was the first to gain control of himself. “I’ll have a word with my wife later,” he promised his friend. “Answer one last question for me before we go outside. Are there any more?”

  “Any more what?”

  “Surprises.”

  “Only one that I know of.”

  Connor looked as if he was going to drop to his knees. Quinlan quickly explained. “It’s nothing to worry about. She made a few minor improvements in the great hall that are harmless. I saw the room this morning,” he added with a nod.

  “You’d better be right,” his laird muttered before he reached for the door latch.

  “It’s going to take me a week to get over seeing my wife on the black. Every time I think about it, I shake like an old man. I keep picturing her flying across the meadow . . .”

  He couldn’t go on. He shook his head as if to rid himself of the thought, realized his hand was shaking even now, and let out a loud sigh in frustration.

  Quinlan also pictured his mistress riding the stallion, and though he also knew it would take him a long time to recover, he also recognized the skill she’d shown.

  Connor was just pulling the door open when he whispered to Quinlan, “She’s good, isn’t she.”

  Chapter 15

  She was in for it now.

  The very first words out of her husband’s mouth when he came outside the stables indicated she had crossed that imaginary line inside his mind that separated what could be touched and what couldn’t. Apparently he believed the black stallion belonged to him, and only him.

  She would, of course, beg to differ, but she was intelligent enough to wait until he’d gotten over his fury.

  “I would like to have a word with you in private, Brenna.”

  “Certainly,” she replied, trying her best to look mildly interested and curious, and not at all concerned. She realized almost immediately she hadn’t taken the right approach, and changed her attitude to one of indignation.

  “I’m glad of it, Connor. It’s about time you gave your wife a private moment. When exactly would it be convenient for you to speak to me?”

  Her ploy didn’t work. “If you don’t want me to know you’re nervous, you shouldn’t back away from me. I would also suggest you stop looking over your shoulder for a means of escape.”

  She glanced at Crispin to see how he was reacting to his laird’s intimidating tactics and was thankful the soldier didn’t seem to be paying any attention at all. His gaze was directed at the bottom of the hill as if he were absolutely fascinated by something he was watching there.

  Quinlan, however, was hanging on Connor’s every word. He still looked a little too complacent to suit her. Not only did he know she was about to catch Connor’s thunder, he was glad of it. Didn’t the man have anything better to do than follow her around and report her every action to her husband? Apparently he didn’t. Although it was probably unkind of her, she made note of the similarity between the soldier and her old nursemaid, Elspeth, who also took delight in telling on Brenna.

  “I want this private moment alone with you now,” Connor announced.

  He waited for her agreement before instructing Crispin and Quinlan to join him for the evening meal, then started back up the hill toward the keep with Brenna at his side.

  “My surprise didn’t make you happy, did it?”

  His snort was all the answer she required. “Are you upset because Willie belongs to you and you don’t want anyone else riding him?”

  “How many times did you fall?”

  Since she was almost certain Quinlan gave him a detailed accounting of her activities, she decided to be completely honest. “So many times I lost count.”

  “What do you think would have happened if you had been carrying my son?”

  She looked thunderstruck, for the possibility had apparently never entered her mind.

  “I’m not. I only just finished . . . I’m not.”

  “Finished what?”

  “Finished realizing I can’t be carrying your child yet. I would never deliberately put our baby in jeopardy.”

  “And you will never ride the black again, will you?”

  “Not even with a saddle?”

  “The horse has never had a saddle on his back, and I assure you, he wouldn’t like it. It’s out of the question.”

  “All right then. Was there anything else you wanted to mention . . . or do?”

  “Don’t ever call him Willie again.”

  She could tell he wasn’t going to change his mind. “I won’t,” she promised before blurting out, “Do you know you haven’t kissed me once since you’ve been back? I cannot help but wonder if you’ve even thought of it.”

  He hadn’t thought about much else, but he wasn’t about to admit it. “We haven’t been alone. Remind me tonight, and I’ll kiss you then.”

  She didn’t realize he was teasing her. “I’ll probably forget,” she assured him. “It really doesn’t matter to me one way or another.”

  “Yes, it does. Watch where you’re going. Some of the holes haven’t been filled yet.”

  “Speaking of holes . . .”

  “Not yet.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I don’t want to hear a word about a chapel. Not now, not ever. Understand?”

  “I understand you’re being very stubborn.”

  She knew he was still a little upset about her plan to hide the keep behind a church. Still, he hadn’t told her she couldn’t, giving her hope that by tomorrow he would be more willing to listen to reason. Surely by then, she would have come up with a better explanation than the blunt truth. Admitting she believed the front of his home was downright ugly would only hurt his feelings, and for that reason, she would have to think of something else to tell him.

  She moved on to a far more important matter. “When we go upstairs tonight, I need to have a serious talk with you. I have something extremely important to tell you,” she whispered. “You aren’t going to like it.”

  “Tell me now.”

  “I would rather wait until tonight. I just wanted to prepare you in advance,” she added. “My news will surely break your heart.”

  His laughter wasn’t quite the reaction she anticipated. “It’s a serious matter,” she insisted.

  “I assure you, no matter how serious the news is, my heart’s going to stay intact. Why don’t you tell me now and be done with it? You sound as though you’re dreading it.”

  “I am dreading it. I’m still going to wait until tonight to tell you, however. You’re about to see your surprise, and I don’t want to ruin your happiness with bad news.”

  She suddenly wished she hadn’t tried to prepare him, because now her stomach felt as though it were tied in knots. How could she not be upset? She was going to start a war between two brothers, God forgive her, but she didn’t really have any other choice, did she?

  She had asked Father Sinclair that very question during confession, and while he had firmly agreed she must tell her husband when he came home, he also felt she should tell his soldiers right away. It had taken her a long time to convince the priest how important it was that Connor hear before anyone else. Father finally gave in after she promised him she would remain cautious and avoid ever being alone with Raen.

  The priest assured her he was going to come back tomorrow to find out how Connor had reacted. She suspected his real motive was to make certain she was all right, and by then, she fully expected to be able to inform him that Raen had already been banished.

  Connor pulled her back to the present by telling her to pay attention to where she was walking.

  “Brocca’s husband is waiting to find out if you want one of his hound’s pups or not,” he repeated.

  “Why would he want to give me a pup?”

  “It’s all he has to give.”

  “But why . . .”

  “It’s a g
ift, Brenna. You’ve shown his wife kindness and he wishes to repay you.”

  “How thoughtful of him,” she replied. “Would you mind having a hound inside?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll tell him you’ll be happy to have the pup then. Try not to lose him, all right?”

  “For heaven’s sake,” she muttered. “You’re really doing your best to put me in a bad mood, aren’t you?”

  He didn’t bother to answer her. He surprised her when he pulled her close to his side and put his arms around her shoulders.

  “You aren’t disappointed it’s a hound?”

  She gave him a curious glance. “No, of course not. Why would you think I would be?”

  His voice was filled with laughter when he answered her. “It isn’t a piglet.”

  “You do remember meeting me,” she cried out.

  He opened the door for her before explaining. “Of course, I remember. I also remember holding you in my arms. You weighed less than my plaid. I think you were about Grace’s age.”

  “No, I was much older.”

  “You smelled like the piglet you had rolled up in your skirts.”

  “I couldn’t have. I had just had a bath. My sister told me so.”

  “You were trying to tell me what to do even when you were a baby. I really should have known then.”

  She was having difficulty paying attention to the conversation, for his eyes were filled with such warmth, she really couldn’t think about anything else. Lord, he was handsome. “Known what?” she asked him in a breathless whisper.

  “That you were going to be trouble.”

  She thought that was about the nicest thing he had ever said to her, and it wasn’t until she had let out a loud sigh in appreciation and told him thank you that she realized he hadn’t given her a compliment.

  He didn’t laugh at her. In fact, he pulled her into his arms, leaned down, and whispered, “You’re welcome.”

  She didn’t know he was going to kiss her until he was doing exactly that. She felt as though she was being crushed against his hard chest, so powerful and fierce was his grip, yet his mouth was surprisingly gentle against hers. His tongue thrust inside to deepen the kiss, arousing a response she didn’t expect or understand until it had ended and he was pulling back away from her.

 

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