by Ashley York
Almost afraid that she hadn’t heard him correctly, she placed a kiss on his palm before pulling back with a very slow movement to search his face. His brown eyes were rounded, his expression soft with emotion. His sincerity tugged at her heart and she didn’t immediately know what to say, how to put her feelings into words. He’d always held her interest, from the first moment her mother had said he was to be her husband. Her attitude toward him had only changed when she started to believe he didn’t feel the same. When he ignored her after she had sought him out. She only wanted his attention like the other lasses received from the lads.
Darragh shrugged, smiling sheepishly as if he may have shared too much.
“Ye are very pleasurable in my arms, but yer stomach is still growling. Ye sound near to starving.” He slapped her bottom.
She hesitated a moment, wanting to give him some indication of her own feelings. Awkwardness threatened to overtake her, so she quickly kissed him before pushing open the curtain to join the couple.
“Good morn to ye,” Brighit said, her smile feeling wide enough to light up a room.
“Ah, did ye sleep well?” Gwen was wiping her hands on a cloth, while her husband sat quietly at the table.
Brighit’s mind flashed back to the intimate night of loving she’d shared with her husband. She wondered at the woman’s knowing smile and her face heated. “Most certainly.”
“I’ve a few vegetables from the garden for soup, if ye’d like to start there?” Gwen indicated the sack on the trestle, her smile broadening when Brighit nodded.
Unlike the women at home, Gwen definitely seemed to take pleasure in teaching Brighit. There’d be no ridicule from her for what Brighit didn’t know. That was a great relief. Brighit opened the bag, surprised by her own sudden interest in its contents. “These will be fine. And the herbs?”
“Plenty have not gone to seed. After we break our fast, we’ll decide which to use. Ye wanted to make bread as well?”
“The bread. Let us make a filling, dark loaf.”
“Ye sound as if ye’ve a full day planned.” Darragh joined them, nodding a greeting to their hosts.
Brighit’s eyes followed him as he came to a stop opposite William, and that knowing smile returned to Gwen’s face. “A fine man ye have there.”
“Fine indeed.”
Darragh had not heard them as he settled at the trestle. “But yer insides are calling for something a bit sooner, wife.”
Gwen rubbed Brighit’s shoulder as she passed her to reach the iron pot beside the fire. “I’ve taken care of the breakfast. We cannot have yer bride cooking on an empty stomach.”
The porridge was hot and filling, its sweetness increased by the always present honey.
“Yer cock is having trouble knowing when to crow, William. I heard him all night.” Darragh helped himself to more hot cereal before settling back down beside Brighit. “How are the eggs? Are they plentiful even through winter?”
William wiped his mouth before answering. “We have more than enough. Our nephews take turns coming by every week or so. ’Tis only the meat that has been scarce of late, but we’re fine.”
“I would not mind seeing what I can get for ye, in appreciation of ye giving us a dry place to sleep.”
Collecting the bowls, Brighit followed Gwen to the small work bench behind the hearth. There, Gwen emptied the bag of a large assortment of root vegetables, scattering the colorful array across the top of the wooden surface.
“Are ye up for a little hunting then?” William’s voice sounded pleased, as if he’d come up with the idea himself.
“A fine idea,” Darragh said.
Brighit glanced up to find Darragh’s eyes on her, just as she’d suspected, and his look of interest made her blush. She smiled at him before she took up a knife and started chopping.
While the men discussed a plan, Gwen shared her concerns about her husband with Brighit, careful not to be overheard. William seemed healthy, but his tracking and hunting was taking longer and longer. Although he’d never said as much, Gwen was worried that he’d had trouble finding his way home again.
“And what about ye, Brighit?” Darragh asked.
Brighit’s blade slipped and she bit her lip to keep from making a sound.
“Does yer wife hunt?” William asked, surprise evident in his tone.
She glanced up again, but Darragh was regarding William with an expression of surprise. “Why would she not? She is very accomplished.”
“Almost like having a man with ye but for the pleasure of her body at night to keep ye warm.”
Despite her heated cheeks, Brighit managed a smile of appreciation for her husband. It would be wonderful to be alone with him, the two of them working alongside each other. She wondered if he would enjoy it as well.
“Would that please ye, wife? Be off in the woods with me hunting down small animals to kill for our meal?”
“I prefer the larger animals. It makes it so much more worthwhile.” She straightened her shoulders then shrugged. “But small ones are fine if that’s all ye can find.”
“Ha, now does that sound like a challenge to ye, William?” Darragh asked, his eyes steady on her.
“A bit like she’s saying she could fell a deer while ye’d only catch a rabbit.”
Brighit feigned outrage, but her eyes twinkled with mischief. “I said no such thing.”
Gwen laughed beside her. “I believe I heard the same thing.”
“Ye did not.” Brighit laughed. “I did not say I was a better hunter than my husband.”
Darragh’s smile widened and he crossed his arms about his chest. “Ah, but ’tis a challenge simple enough for me to take up and prove.”
Her brows raised, Brighit replied “It is that.”
“A fine idea,” He nodded to William. “and we’ll leave anon.”
Brighit’s excitement was uncontainable, dimmed only by the thought of trying to do the job hampered by her long leine. If she could learn how to cook soup, she could learn how to move with her long, covering rustling about her, announcing her presence to her prey.
The fresh, crusty bread was baked to perfection according to Gwen. She was quite outgoing in her praise of Brighit’s ability, making her feel her abilities were acceptable. Quite different from her experience at home. The loaves were packed up for them to take on their hunt. Among the vegetables Gwen had procured for the soup were the dreaded leeks, which Brighit quickly learned was one of Darragh’s favorite vegetables. She’d have to acquire a new appreciation for the filthy things. Shortly after adding them to the pot, she’d realized how thick and fragrant they made the broth.
Packing this as well, Darragh and Brighit were soon ready to head out. She settled on Darragh’s horse, their supplies packed in the bags hanging behind his legs.
“Do not worry for us if we are not back anon.” Darragh held a rein on either side of her while she sat sideways in front of him. He glanced at her and said, “We do not plan to hurry back.”
“There’s a path along the ridge where ye can see the herds as they’re moving. My favorite place to settle down to watch for the deer.”
“Then we will head there first.” Darragh nodded to Gwen and they were off.
The ground across the glen was saturated and that made their travel slow, but the rains had brightened their color, making the meadow they crossed seem almost dreamlike while they moved toward the mountains in the distance.
Brighit sat surrounded by Darragh’s warmth, and they took their time crossing the open field. The birds in the trees announced their arrival and the smell of the damp earth filled their senses. She sighed, content with the world, and rested her head on his chest for only a moment before drifting off with dreams of a hearth and family of her own.
Chapter 18
It was midday when Darragh awoke her with a gentle kiss to her cheek, her jaw, and finally to her lips. A bit stiff from the ride, she stretched her arms wide then wrapped them around his shoulders to offer h
er lips more fully to him.
“Mmm, exactly what I wanted.”
His firm hand at her back pressed her flush against his chest while his tongue teased hers, setting off sparks of longing low in her belly like a gentle breeze fanning a fire.
“Now that ye’ve slept most of the way, we’ll have to find a way to keep ye out of trouble.”
“Ha! I am quite refreshed enough to see to providing a feast for us both.”
They dismounted and he set about starting a fire. She took the supplies off the horse, seeing to its comfort before leaving it to graze nearby. Gwen had packed the leftover bread, some honey sweetened cream, and a hunk of hard cheese.
“Well mayhap not such a feast, but our bellies will be full.”
“Are ye certain ye never cared for such work? Ye seemed to enjoy learning from Gwen.” Darragh brushed the dirt from his hand and watched the fire continue to grow.
His eyes met hers across the flame. She shrugged, removing the wrappings from the food. “I like her. Mayhap I never saw any use for such knowledge before, and besides, ’tis very boring.” Turning to him, she continued. “Unlike defense of the clan, which is always exciting. And defense of the clan assured our survival.”
“My own mother does little cooking. As the wife of the king, ’tis not expected of her, though she does enjoy her gardens and embroidery.” Darragh crossed to her, slicing off a chunk of the cheese to offer her before getting some for himself. “Being able to feed the members of the clan keeps them alive and the warriors strong enough to defend against an attack.”
Brighit savored the nutty taste while pondering the obviousness of his statement. Why had she been so opposed then to working in the kitchen? The other lasses’ smiling faces and flirty smiles flashed through her mind, along with their disdainful glances at her.
She looked away, feeling as if she was found lacking. “The other lasses cared not for my abilities, always criticizing me. When I was ordered to stop training with the lads, it seemed like there may have been something to what they’d said.”
Darragh finished the cheese and took the bread with him to where he’d rolled up his brait and propped it against a tree stump. He settled down, leaning back against it. Patting his thighs, he indicated she should sit on his lap. Her awkwardness returned, but she tried to disregard it. When she would have sat closer to his knees, he gently urged her to lean against his heated body before offering her a piece of the bread. They ate in amicable silence, the sound of the breeze high in the trees soothing them.
“They were jealous.” Darragh finally replied, his tone decidedly defensive.
“Of what?”
“Ye spent yer time with the very lads they wished to impress.” With a hand on her chin, he pulled her in for a passionate kiss, his hand skimming along her breasts before wrapping around her waist. He broke the kiss and waggled his brows. “Not one of them compares to ye in any way.”
“The lads were endless in their praise of the other lasses’ beauty and abilities.”
“And what did the lads say about ye?”
“Nothing. They patted me on the back for a job well done.” She looked away. “When I was no longer allowed to train with them, I had no one. The lasses did not care to become friendly with me. They said I was odd because I preferred battle and wore trews.”
Darragh brushed her gown out, smoothing it over her knees. “This would be a difficult way to dress for training.”
A deep sadness washed over her suddenly. She’d taken such pride in her accomplishments despite the way the other girls had treated her. Losing that might have made her defiant—willful even—because it was something she was good at, not like those other duties. Surely not every lass was meant to sit around sewing or being gawked at or fought over.
She sighed in resignation. “It is a silly thing to be speaking of things that matter so little.”
“It upset ye. ’Tis not a small thing.” Darragh glanced away, looking far off into the distance before turning to her again. “I remember watching ye with the lads when ye were younger. Ye fought better than a lot of them because ye took yer father’s direction seriously and it showed.”
Her experience with Cathair had demonstrated her uselessness as a warrior. Her training and abilities could not stand against a man with a greater strength. The bigger man had been able to best her as easily as he would have swatted a fly.
“Ye’re saying that to be kind.” All she remembered about Darragh’s early visits was that he’d wanted nothing to do with her. “I do not remember ye ever noticing me.”
“Ah, I hid my interest in my future wife.” Darragh’s eyes widened. “A lass besting the lads is not a sight easily forgotten.”
Heat spread up from her chest. “I didn’t think ye ever saw me or cared to know anything about me.”
“Yer feats demanded attention and the rumors sparked my interest.”
“What rumors?” She tapped down her irritation. Those girls did love to talk. She wondered if he believed all that he’d heard.
He shook his head. “That they spoke of ye, not what they said. I did not trust more than what I saw with my own eyes.” His gaze caressed her. “And what I saw intrigued me greatly.”
Appreciation for him bloomed and she leaned in to kiss him. When he broke the kiss, she was taken aback by his suddenly devious expression. The same look he’d had when they’d snuck out for the bedding.
“What are ye about?”
“I have something for ye.” Reaching between the brait and the stump, he pulled out a wad of material.
She shook out the piece of rough, dark material to find it was a pair of trews and disappointment washed over her. “Did ye wish me to show ye my mending abilities next?”
He simply puckered his lips and shrugged, holding his shoulders up longer than was necessary.
Searching the legs and seams, she found nothing, so she stopped and leveled her gaze at him. “I do not understand. I see no wear on these.”
A large bird settled somewhere overhead, cawing loudly at the little birds that continued to badger it. “They are for ye.”
He was wearing her patience. “And ye’ve given them to me, so now what am I to do with them?”
“They are for ye to wear.”
Confusion was quickly followed by excitement. “For me? My own trews? Instead of the leine?”
“On occasion.”
She jumped up, holding the pair up to her waist. They were cut smaller than her brother’s and looked as if they would fit her quite well. “How did ye do this?”
Darragh shrugged and stood alongside her. “I saw no reason not to have some made for ye to use when ye’re with me if it makes movement easier for ye. The thought of ye wearing yer brother’s did not sit well with me.” He crossed his arms about his chest, looking quite proud of himself. “And I wished to see that appreciative look on yer face.”
Brighit moved in close, throwing her arms about his shoulders to pull him against her, and kissing him thoroughly. “Ye have made me very happy.”
With a firm arm about her waist, he twirled her around until she couldn’t catch her breath from laughing so hard. Setting her on her feet again, he gazed down into her eyes. “I never cared to have a dull woman at my side, predictable and staid. Ye? Ye are exciting to me in every way. Forgiveness, please, for not doing a better job of letting ye know that sooner.”
She pulled away to again look at the trews, trying to imagine how they would fit her small frame.
“Will ye try them on?”
A sudden shyness overtook her, but she stamped it down and gave him her back to unlace her gown. His knuckles lightly touching her back sent chills of excitement down her spine. Her eyes closed in pleasure. She assumed he was caressing her by accident until his lips touched her as well.
“Ye have such lovely, soft skin.”
Reaching beneath the edges of her dress, he slipped his hands along her skin to push the material down and over her arms. He kissed her
again, one bare shoulder blade and then the other, the tip of his tongue just grazing her. “Very lovely indeed.”
Her breath caught and she leaned back toward him, giving his hands free access to her exposed bosom, which he took advantage of without hesitation.
“What am I to wear with the trews?” Her voice was husky, and his laugh in response made her smile.
“I see ye only have one thing on yer mind.”
“As d'ye,” she replied.
Darragh slid his hand down her belly. It constricted under his light touch. He pushed the material off until it gathered at her feet, but he stopped short of touching her more intimate area.
“I have a tunic for ye as well.”
He whispered the words close to her ear, his voice low, and she waited for the kiss she expected to follow. The firm slap on her bottom made her jump.
“Ouch!” Brighit turned around, her mouth gaping open. “What was that for?”
“It was either that or take ye as is my wont.” He raked his gaze down the length of her, taking in all of her nakedness, then moistened his lips. His breathing was slightly heavy when he looked at her again. “Dress quickly before I change my mind.”
Brighit squealed and moved to don the trews. He tossed a tunic to her, still warm from his body. She gave him a questioning glance and was struck by his solid torso, lightly covered in dark hair, in all its naked splendor.
“Best ye cover those delectable breasts sooner rather than later.” He abruptly gave her his back, moving toward their supplies.
Surrounded by his musky scent, Brighit couldn’t deny the quiver of desire that prickled along her skin to settle between her legs. She pulled the garment close around her, closing her eyes as she took in a deep breath.
“Mmm, now that was a pleasure I hadn’t anticipated.” Darragh had silently returned and was right there in front of her, fully clothed now. Tenderly stroking her cheek, he said, “The sight of yer longing for me.”
She exhaled slowly, unable to deny what he could clearly see with his own eyes. “This can wait. Mayhap we should wait to go out until the morrow?”
