by K. E. Saxon
Her heart tripped, began to pound and she shot up straight. Were Daniel and the lovely blonde having a much more amorous alliance? The thought made her dizzy with fear. What to do? What to do?
She bit her thumbnail so hard, it cracked. Maryn’s eyes widened and she darted a look back to the arched entrance. Did he intend to make love to the woman even now?
*
It was nearing the nooning meal when Maryn met Daniel at the bottom of the steps of the keep. She’d seen him crossing the courtyard with a contented grin on his face, which raised her worries to a higher level than they’d already been. “May we find a place more private to talk?”
She saw an immediate light of caution enter his eyes. “Aye. Our bedchamber should afford us the privacy you require.” He took her elbow and led her up to their chamber.
Upon entering the room, Daniel stoked the fire which had burned down to low embers in their absence, while she found a small stool in the far corner and brought it over to the hearth.
Finally, Daniel settled in the chair and turned his gaze on her, resting his arms on his knees with his hands clasped together. He cocked an eyebrow, but said naught, clearly waiting for her to speak.
“Who was the flaxen haired lady you were in the courtyard with this morn?”
Daniel tensed. He knew not what he’d expected to hear from Maryn, but this was not it. “She…” After taking in a deep breath and letting it out in a slow stream, he continued, “Until this day past, she was my betrothed.”
Maryn could do naught more than gape at him. “But…” In an effort to gain control of her reactions, she looked away, allowing her sights to skitter to the fire. Taking in a deep breath to ease the knot in her stomach, the tight band around her chest, she shook her head and lifted her eyes to his once more. “Why did you not tell my father, or me, about your lady love when we were negotiating the agreement this day past?”
“She is not my lady love.” Daniel dipped his head to stare at the expanse of rush-covered floor. All right. Now for the simple truth. Sighing, he lifted his gaze to Maryn’s disbelieving countenance once more. “And I did not tell of my prior commitment because it did not affect my decision. I am committed to securing my fortress, to keeping my clan safe. The funds I’ll acquire from the Macleans’ shipping interests will aid me in that endeavor and thus took higher precedence.” He shrugged and shook his head. “And, as far as the betrothal…well, ‘twas a matter of convenience only. Jesslyn—that is the lady’s name, Jesslyn Macreary—still mourns her husband and I thought it the easiest way to fulfill my obligation to take care of her and her lad. I gave my sworn promise to do thus to my good friend, Grant, her husband, as he lay dying on the battlefield two years past.” He sighed, scrubbing his hand through this hair. “I should have told you, I admit. If not prior to the wedding, then earlier this morn.”
Her eyes narrowed as she regarded him. “The two of you are lovers, are you not?”
A laugh erupted before Daniel could draw it back. “Nay.”
Maryn visibly bristled.
He gentled his voice, hoping to soothe her. “Nay. She is well known as a paragon of virtue. Jesslyn would never bed a man outside the wedded state.”
“Mayhap her feelings for you are stronger than you believe. Mayhap she’s angered by our marriage, but does not admit to such.”
Daniel shook his head. “Nay, we’ve known each other since we were bairns. Our feelings are more as brother and sister than lovers, I assure you.”
“Yet you held her in your arms, as only a lover would do. She nuzzled into you and you kissed her.”
“Jesslyn stumbled and twisted her ankle. I was doing naught more than carrying her to her cottage.”
“And the nuzzling—and that kiss? I suppose I’d see the same thing should you carry Murray back to his quarters?”
Daniel guffawed. “Nay, by my vow that will never happen,” he said, grinning.
“How pleased I am that you find me so amusing.”
He coughed and cleared his throat. “Pray, pardon me for my ill-timed mirth. But as far as the ‘nuzzling’ is concerned, I remember it not. I did, however, give Jesslyn a small peck on the cheek when she made a jest I appreciated.”
“You kiss her often, then?” Maryn asked, her voice pinched.
Tread carefully. “We’ve been friends for a very long time—and I am only just wed,” he reminded. “I suppose I did not temper my behavior to fit my new status.” Daniel reached over and took his bride’s hands in his own, stroking her fingers with his thumbs. “Forgive me?”
*
The warmth in his voice, the heat in his gaze caused Maryn’s heart to tumble a bit further and it scared her, but she managed to answer on a sigh, “Aye.”
Daniel rose from his chair and tugged her to her feet before settling a soft kiss on her mouth. “You are so lovely,” he murmured against her lips before wrapping his arms around her and tendering a second kiss that held the same hunger she’d seen in his eyes this day past, making her head spin and her knees weak.
As he plundered her mouth, Maryn’s breasts began to tingle and a throbbing ache grew in her womb. He wants me. That was plain. But can he care for me? Love me? She knew not. Mayhap the girdle was a mere gesture, naught more. Mayhap he and the widow harbored only the affection of a long friendship between them. Only time would tell. So, she pressed her hands against his chest to break the kiss. It took a moment, but Daniel at last lifted his head. “Did I frighten you?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Nay. ‘Tis only that I have something to request of you.”
Trailing his hands along the curve of her back, he said, “Whatever you desire, I shall give to you, if ‘tis in my power.”
Maryn thought that was the sweetest thing she’d ever heard. Bowing her head, she said, “I want ours to be a good, solid match, just as my parents had.”
“Aye, ‘tis what I crave as well,” he said.
“You are still a stranger to me, Daniel. Would it be so terrible to request that we not consummate our union until we know each other better?”
*
Daniel’s heart sank to his toes. “Nay…‘tis not too terrible. How long do you suppose we must wait, then?” Be understanding. You wed a virgin, you wed a virgin, you wed a virgin. ‘Twas surely God’s way of testing him. Or, mayhap, ‘twas Lucifer playing some cruel mischief.
“Not longer than a few moons, I reckon,” Maryn replied cheerfully.
When the start of a groan burst from his throat, Daniel slammed his hand to his mouth and changed it to a cough. Clearing his throat, he croaked, “That will be fine, then.” I must truly be mad. What was fine about a few moons of torture?
“I, of course, will still be sharing a bed with you,” he clarified. “I cannot allow my clansmen to learn of this bargain, else I’ll surely become the target of all their jests.”
“I—I confess, I had not thought of that.” Her brow drew together as she nibbled her lip. “’Tis not my wish to humiliate you, and we did share a bed last eve with little difficulty.” She brightened. “So, aye. Aye, we shall share a bed.”
Daniel smiled. Good. Now he could torture her a bit as well. “And I may kiss you as often as I like,” he stipulated. ‘Twas his duty as her husband to teach her, after all. And teach her, he would. He felt confident that his skill would shorten the sentence. Surely, they’d be enjoying conjugal bliss by sennight’s end.
She giggled. “Aye, if you so desire. I’m a bit hungry. Is it not time for the nooning meal?”
Daniel bent and kissed the tip of her nose. “Aye, it is, bride.”
CHAPTER 5
The MacPhersons arrived just as the remains of the meal were cleared away. Most of that clan’s warriors were gathered at the base of the hill, but Laird MacPherson was just outside the fortress gate, demanding entrance. He insisted upon speaking directly to Daniel, who agreed, but insisted that the others remain outside the walls of the holding until he was sure that no trickery was involved.
Turning to Maryn, Daniel said, “You must go to our bedchamber now.” He took her hand in his and gave it a light squeeze. “Do not stray from that haven until I come for you, as it is the safest place for you at the moment.”
Maryn nodded and rushed from the hall.
Now, her heart pounding against her ribcage and her teeth worrying her lip, she leaned against her bedchamber door and wondered: Who are the MacPhersons? ‘Twas clear, Daniel expected some violence from them. Was this keep about to go under siege? Was her husband in danger? Restless, she began to pace, unable to calm herself until she knew more of the circumstances behind the MacPherson’s arrival.
After several more agitated trips between the hearth and the bed, her curiosity overrode her better judgment and, in direct defiance of her husband’s dictate, she left the room to look out one of the arrow slits in the tower stair. She would surely be safe as long as she stayed on the upper level.
As she gazed through that narrow opening, her husband came into view. He and some of his men were speaking together in the courtyard. Seeing the somber expression on his countenance, she became even more convinced that he was putting himself in peril. And he had retrieved his sword! Aye, he expected mischief this day, that much was certain.
While she contemplated what might be about to take place, a tall thin man with graying yellow hair was led into the courtyard on horseback. He looked angry—and very mean.
As he dismounted, he boomed out a crudity in greeting to her husband. ‘Twas so loud, she could hear it even from where she stood inside the tower. Daniel’s reply was even more vulgar, and in like strength of sound. Her cheeks flamed in reaction. Was that even possible? The two men walked into the keep then and the other men dispersed, leaving the courtyard empty.
Deep in thought, she returned to her bedchamber. After a moment, she walked over to her chest and opened the lid. Settling herself on the floor in front of the wooden case, she dug through its contents. At last, her eyes settled upon the item she’d been searching for.
With a reverent hand, she brought the bounty from its nest. This was not the bairn’s slingshot she’d had all those years ago. Nay, this was a much more ingeniously-crafted weapon. Capable of hurling a shot up to sixty-five feet, ‘twas designed with a wrist-brace so that the need to hold the frame tightly was eliminated. She’d never given up her pastime and had eventually taught herself how to hunt small game with the device.
But now, she intended to put it to a much more critical use: To guard her husband’s back. If the older man made one false move, she would swiftly fell him with a skillfully-aimed sling. Oh, she knew well that the shot would never kill the man. ‘Twould, however, disable him long enough for Daniel to gain the upper hand.
She attached the purse with four smooth egg-shaped stones to her belt and went downstairs. Peeking around the doorway to the great hall, she was relieved to see that both men had their backs to her at the moment. With a good amount of stealth, she slid through the opening and edged behind the screen to the buttery.
A young maid was behind the screen as well, drawing ale for the two men. Maryn tapped her shoulder to get her attention.
The maid squealed in surprise.
“Is all well, lass?” Daniel called out.
Maryn slammed her hand over the maid’s mouth, mouthing to her not to betray her presence in the hall. When the wide-eyed lass jerkily nodded her assent, Maryn released her hold and the maid hustled from behind the screen.
“Aye, Laird,” the maid said, “I thought I saw a mouse, but ‘twas naught but a piece of cloth,” she jerkily explained before scurrying out of the hall toward the kitchens.
Maryn found a position where she could peek out without being seen by the two men, her armed slingshot cocked and ready to fire, but safely aimed at the ground until, or if, the need arose to use it. Unfortunately, the men continued to speak in tones much too low for her to discern their words. Tho’ she was able to get bits and pieces here and there, she did not gain any further understanding of the reasons behind the MacPherson’s desire to meet with her husband, nor his reasons for bringing his army here.
For the first hour, she watched the older laird’s movements with the sharpened skills of a huntress, prepared to fire upon him if he so much as touched his dirk.
In the second hour, however, after concluding that the visitor had no vile plot underway, and as she was now trapped in the buttery, she quietly poured some ale for herself and sat down, resting her legs which had grown quite sore from standing in one place for so long.
The steady drone of the men’s low voices, as well as the soothing effect of the brew, began to lull her and before long she succumbed. As she drifted into a light slumber, her head began to nod. When her chin made its final, swift plummet to her chest, she startled awake, jerking her head back. Taking a deep breath to calm her pounding heart, she straightened her spine and peeked around the edge of the screen.
Would these men never stop talking? The ale she’d drunk to quench her thirst was now pressing her rather furiously for exit.
But fortune was on her side, for just then the two men rose to their feet and walked out of the great hall. God be praised!
Scrambling from behind the screen, she went through the door at the back of the chamber that led to the kitchens, taking the stairs two at a time from that location to the second floor landing. Once inside her bedchamber, she tossed the slingshot on the bed and ran to the privy at full tilt. She’d barely lifted her skirts before she heard her husband come through the bedchamber door. Damn!
She heard him grumble something under his breath before the door slammed shut again and the familiar sound of departing footfalls echoed through the walls.
*
“Do you know where I might find Laird MacLaurin?” Maryn asked a passing wheelwright in the courtyard a few minutes later. She’d set out to find her husband in all haste. For, she doubted not that the longer he had to stew over her supposed defiance of his command—surely, there was no need for him to ever learn the truth in his suspicions, was there?—the worse the outcome would be for her.
“Aye, m’lady. I saw him go toward the stables a short while past.”
“My thanks,” she replied and hurried in that direction.
When she stepped inside, she found Fia burrowing her nose in Daniel’s hair while he patted her neck. Amazed, but pleased by Fia’s show of affection, Maryn smiled. “Ah, there you are,” she said with as much innocence as she could muster.
Daniel’s hand halted mid-stroke. Slowly, deliberately, he turned to her. Then, as one dark auburn brow lifted in sardonic question, he pierced her with a glacial green stare.
Well, so much for innocence. But she would not cower, nor allow him to daunt her, as she was quite set on being an equal partner in this marriage. For was it not so that a laird and chieftain should inform his wife of any danger to their clan? She took another step toward him. “Will you tell me now why Laird MacPherson came here with an army of his men?”
“I told you to remain in our chamber until I had dealt with our guest and knew your safety was not in jeopardy. I went there not a quarter-hour past and you were nowhere in sight. Where were you? ”
Blood and heat rushed up her neck and over her cheeks. Looking anywhere but in her husband’s eyes, she primly replied, “I was inspecting the privy—‘tis certainly a large one. Do you not agree?” ‘Twas truth, she would go to an early grave before she’d admit to any other undertaking in that particular facility.
His lips twitched, in an obvious effort not to grin, and that made the flame burn higher in her cheeks. He coughed into his fist. “Aye, well, I am rather a large man,” he reminded her. “Pray pardon me for assuming you’d gone against my wishes.”
Unable to meet her husband’s eye, Maryn shrugged. ‘Twas not such a lie, was it?
“Come, let us walk outside,” he said. When they were a bit away from the stables, Daniel halted and turned to face her. He surprised her when he t
ook her hand and slowly twined his fingers with hers, bringing their palms together before at last explaining the problems they’d been having with the MacPhersons.
“Why did you not tell me of this before—did my father know?” Maryn asked.
“Aye, he knew. I told him of this irritation before you and I were wed this day past. He understood—and trusted—that I would keep you safe from harm.” Shifting his gaze away, he scrubbed his hand across the back of his neck. Sighing, he regarded her once more, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “As for the reason I chose not to tell you of this before now, ‘tis because you were so anxious last eve. I decided not to worry you further with the knowledge that the keep might be under siege at any moment. ‘Tis the reason I did not introduce you to my men—I feared they’d speak of it to you.”
Well, at least ‘twas not shame at her ravenous feeding. “Aye, but why did the man come here this day? Does he still believe the MacLaurins steal his cattle?”
“Nay,” Daniel replied. A stray breeze caught a lock of her hair, sweeping it over her face, so that it clung to her lips. Before she could remove it, Daniel lifted the strand away with his other hand and stroked the lower fold of her mouth with the pad of his thumb. Her breath hitched in her chest. The black centers of his eyes expanded until there was but a slender line of sea-green left bounding their depths. Had hers done the same? Lord, but the man could make her bones melt at the slightest touch.
“He came to warn me of a potential threat,” he said, stepping back, dropping his hand from her mouth. “It seems that he has discovered a band of miscreants living in the forest between our two holdings. They are freebooters who have been taking advantage of pilgrims that travel without guard who pass between the MacPherson and MacLaurin land.” With a gentle tug on her hand, still twined with his, he led them back toward the keep. “He is now convinced that they are the culprits in the cattle raid and not the MacLaurins, so he and his men have resolved to stir them from their woodland den. I’ve sent some of our soldiers with him, in pursuit of that purpose.”
