The Guardian

by Margaret Mallory

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, ye hit me!” He doubled over holding his head. It hurt like hell.

  Sìleas looked as shocked by what she’d done as he was. He decided that if she were in a forgiving mood, so was he.

  “Come, lass, this is no way to start our married life.”

  “No, it isn’t,” she said in a shaky voice.

  He noticed that she had a kitchen knife in her other hand now and reached for it. “Put the blade down, Sìl, and come to bed.”

  That was when she hit him the second time.

  He woke up on the floor with Sìleas standing over him, the kitchen blade still in her hand. Judging from the fire in her eyes, she was debating just where to stick it into him.

  “I think you’re safe from the beast without having to use my best kitchen knife on him.”

  At the sound of his mother’s voice, Ian risked taking his eyes off Sìleas long enough to see his mother standing in the doorway in her nightshift and cap. Her long, black and gray braid hung over her shoulder, and her hands were planted on her hips.

  Ian rolled out of the way as the knife fell from Sìleas’s hand, and it clattered to the floor where he had been lying. Sìleas opened her mouth as if she were trying to form a reply to his mother, then she clamped her hand over her mouth and ran from the room.

  “Thanks, mam,” Ian said as he got to his feet. He shook his head, trying to get his bearings and make sense of what just happened. One minute, he was kissing Sìleas in bed, and the next she was trying to kill him.

  “And just what did ye think ye were doing?” his mother asked.

  “Me?” he asked, thumping his chest. “Sìleas was the one attempting to murder me in your kitchen.”

  “Ach, even half drunk as ye are, I expect ye could get away from a wee lass like Sìleas.” His mother waved a dismissive hand. “Now, are ye going to tell me how it is that sweet lass was chasing ye around the kitchen with a knife?”

  “This is no something I’m going to discuss with my mother.” He picked the knife and skillet up from the floor and banged them on the table.

  Niall appeared in the doorway behind his mother. “What’s he done to Sìleas? If he’s hurt her, I’ll kill him.”

  Ian sighed and picked up the skillet again, in case he needed to defend himself.

  “This is none of your business,” his mother said in a sharp voice. “Go back to bed. I’ll deal with Ian.”

  Niall stood clenching his fists and glaring at Ian for a long moment before he obeyed his mother. When the door finally closed behind Niall, Ian set the skillet down. It was all so ridiculous, that a smile tugged at his lips. “Ye will deal with me, will ye, mam? Aren’t I a wee bit big for that?”

  “I have some advice to give ye,” she said, “and you’d best listen if ye don’t want to lose your wife.”

  Heaving a sigh, Ian followed his mother into the hall and took a seat by the hearth. His head still pounded from the skillet. The lass had a good arm.

  “You’ve hardly spoken to Sìleas since ye came home, and then ye go to her room demanding rights as a husband,” his mother said, shaking her head.

  “Mam, can you no respect my privacy? This is between Sìleas and me.”

  His mother waved her hand again. “What did ye do, jump on the poor lass?”

  “No, mam. I didn’t jump on her,” Ian said, keeping his voice calm with effort. “But she is my wife.”

  “What kind of fool did I raise?” his mother said, tilting her head up as if beseeching Heaven.

  “Ye made me marry her, and now ye are telling me I cannot act like a husband?”

  “Ye know verra well that there are all kinds of marriages,” his mother said, pointing her finger at him. “If ye want a happy one, you’ll take my advice.”

  He thought of Alex’s parents, who had been warring for as long as he’d known them. “All right, mam. Tell me what ye think I ought to do.”

  “Ye broke her heart and hurt her pride,” his mother said. “So now ye must seek her forgiveness and earn her trust.”

  “And how am I to do that?”

  “Talk with her, spend time with her,” his mother said. “Make her see that ye value her.”

  “I do value her,” he said.

  “I’m no sure she understood that when ye burst into her bedchamber in the middle of the night demanding your rights.”

  “I told ye, it wasn’t like that.”

  “Sìleas knows ye were forced to wed her,” his mother said, leaning forward. “So what ye must do is convince her that if ye could have any woman in the world, she is the one you’d choose.”

  He still wanted Sìl after she hit him in the head with a skillet—twice. Surely, that counted for something.

  But would he choose Sìleas above any other woman? A week ago, he would not have believed it possible. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

  “Sìleas had a father who thought more of his dogs than he did of his daughter, and then she got a step-da who was worse,” his mother said. “The lass needs a man who sees her worth and loves her. She deserves that. If you can’t give her that, then perhaps ye should step aside.”

  Ian had always been fond of Sìleas. But he knew his mother was talking about something more than fondness. She was talking about what she and his father had.

  His mother stood up and took his face in her hands. “I planned on the two of ye marrying long before that day your da and uncle caught ye sleeping in the woods with her.”

  Ian raised his eyebrows. “Perhaps ye should have told me.”

  “It would have done no good,” she said, and kissed his forehead. “Ye and Sìleas were made for each other. Just don’t ruin it by doing something else foolish.”

  CHAPTER 10

  As soon as Ian sat down at the table to join his brother and Alex for breakfast, Niall jumped to his feet, sending his spoon clattering to the floor. After giving Ian a murderous look, he stormed across the room and out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

  “Nothing quiet about this family,” Alex said, his mouth twitching. He stretched his arms in a dramatic yawn. “A fearful noise woke me last night.”

  “I’m warning ye, Alex, not another word,” Ian said.

  “I take it that the wedding night did not go as well as ye hoped,” Alex said. “Do ye need me to give ye pointers, cuz?”

  Ian started to lunge across the table, but he checked himself when Alex shot him a warning glance.

  “Good morning, Sìleas,” Alex called out.

  “Is it?” Sìleas said in a clipped tone. Ignoring the empty place beside Ian, she walked around to the far side of the table and sat next to Alex.

  Alex raised an eyebrow at Ian and commenced to shovel porridge into his mouth.

  Ian cleared his throat. “Morning, Sìl.”

  She pressed her lips into a tight line and set to stirring her porridge with a good deal of vigor. For the next several minutes, the only sound in the room was the scrape of spoons in bowls. For all the attention Sìleas gave her porridge, she didn’t appear to be eating much.

  Finally, she set down her spoon. Looking past Ian as if he weren’t there, she said, “Where is Niall?”

  Ian cleared his throat again. “I believe he went out for some fresh air.” He tried desperately to think of something else to say to her.

  “Some fresh air would do ye good as well,” Alex said to her. “You’re looking peaked. How about I take ye out fishing today and let the sea breeze put the color back in your cheeks?”

  When Ian kicked him, Alex lifted the finger resting against his cheek to signal that Ian should be patient.

  Sìleas narrowed her eyes, considering. Then she said, “I’d like that verra much. I haven’t been fishing in years.”

  “Meet me on the beach in an hour, and I’ll show ye how it’s done,” Alex said.

  What the hell was Alex up to?

  The door to the kitchen swung open, and Dina came in, wiping her hands on her apron. “Are ye finished?” With a sl
y smile for Alex, she added, “Or will ye be wanting more?”

  “Can ye see to Payton’s breakfast, Dina?” Sìleas said, as she got to her feet. “I have some things to attend to. And then I’m going fishing.”

  Without waiting for Dina to respond—or sparing a glance for Ian—Sìleas left them and disappeared up the stairs.

  • • •

  The icy wind froze Sìleas’s cheeks and made her eyes water. Despite Alex’s smooth, sure strokes with the oars, their little boat bobbed in the choppy water.

  Sìleas’s emotions were as wild as the sea today. She was furious with Ian for sneaking into her bed without even asking her. After keeping her waiting for five long years, he had expected her to be grateful—grateful!—that he had decided to “accept the situation.”

  She was not a “situation.”

  Ian’s kisses had sent an unfamiliar storm of emotions raging inside her. She was so hungry for Ian’s affection, and the desire he stirred in her was so overwhelming, that she had almost lost herself to it. But she knew that for him it was only a physical need. Ian wanted her, but for the wrong reason—or at least not for the reasons she needed.

  “You’re not afraid of a wee bit of weather, are ye?” Alex called out, grinning.

  Sìleas shook her head. Like him, she was an islander and as comfortable on the sea as on land. “All the same, I’d say it’s a poor day for fishing.”

  “Well, ye don’t believe I brought ye out here for the fishing, do ye?” Alex said.

  She shook her head again and watched as he skillfully maneuvered the boat around some rocks to a sheltered cove, where the sea was quieter.

  “ ’Tis time we had ourselves a talk.” He rested his oars and leaned forward. “You and I have some scheming to do.”

  She pushed back the hair whipping across her face. “Scheming?”

  “Aye, scheming,” Alex said, and waggled his eyebrows. “Now, you and I both know that ye love Ian and always have.”

  “Ye don’t know my feelings.”

  “I am on your side, lass,” Alex said. “So let’s not waste time lying to each other.”

  She folded her arms and looked out to sea. “I’ll no spend my life hoping Ian will care for me.”

  “I’m no saying ye should accept less than your due,” Alex said. “But I suspect Ian cares for ye more than he knows.”

  “Seems to me,” she said between her teeth, “that not knowing that he cares is the same as not caring.”

  “Sometimes a man needs to be pushed a wee bit,” Alex said. “Hitting him over the head with the skillet a couple of times was a good start.”

  Sìleas felt her cheeks grow warm. “Ian deserved it.”

  “I haven’t a doubt that he did,” Alex said. “But ye can’t blame him for trying to get ye under the blankets.”

  “Hmmph.”

  A seal popped his head up and looked at her with its black eyes for a long moment before disappearing again below the waves.

  “Do ye remember how the four of us lads used to sail to Knock Castle to take ye out fishing with us?” Alex said. “It was always Ian who talked us into it. Not that the rest of us didn’t like ye, mind, but we were lads off having adventures. We wouldn’t have brought ye along if Ian hadn’t insisted.”

  “He just felt sorry for me,” she said.

  “Aye, Ian always did have a soft heart,” Alex said. “But he liked having ye around. He was always talking about the funny things ye said or how quick ye were to learn something.”

  “I was a wee girl,” she said. “He doesn’t know me now.”

  “So give him time to get to know ye again,” Alex said. “That’s all I’m saying. Don’t decide against him so quick.”

  “Why are ye trying to convince me?”

  “Because I know ye will make Ian happy,” Alex said, his expression serious for once. “He’s a good man, Sìleas. That’s why ye waited for him so long.”

  “Hmmph.” She was more confused than ever.

  Alex narrowed his eyes at the clouds on the horizon. “We’d best head back. A storm is coming.”

  The waves grew wild on the way back, bouncing them like an egg in a kettle at full boil. Sìleas held tight to the sides of the boat, enjoying the rush of the water and the sting of the sea on her skin.

  “ ’Tis grand, isn’t it?” Alex shouted, and they grinned at each other.

  The rain was pelting the sea not far behind them as Alex rowed hard for the beach.

  “Is that Ian?” Sìleas shouted over the wind, though she knew that was him pacing up and down the beach.

  “Ahh, perfect,” Alex said. “Even from here, I can see he’s in a state.”

  Ian had seen them now and was standing with his hands on his hips, glaring out to sea in their direction.

  “Shall we stay out a bit longer?” Alex said. “The man deserves to suffer, wouldn’t ye say?”

  “What are ye about, Alex?”

  “ ’Tis all part of my plan to make Ian appreciate ye.”

  “Appreciate me? Ian looks as if he’d like to murder us both.”

  “What fills the eye fills the heart,” Alex said. “Trust me, ’tis a good sign.”

  She crawled closer to Alex so she could hear him better over the wind. “Ye said ye had a scheme, but ye never told me what it was.”

  “Well, one part is to make him jealous,” Alex said.

  “Jealous? Of you?”

  Alex laughed. “Believe it or not, most women find me irresistible.”

  Though Alex wasn’t for her, it was easy to see the appeal of the sea-green eyes and Viking warrior looks combined with all that charm.

  She turned to see Ian striding through the surf to meet them. He had that dangerous look about him that made her heart beat fast.

  “Are ye sure this is a wise idea, Alex?” she asked.

  “I’ll make a wager with ye,” Alex said. “If I’m right and ye have Ian groveling at your feet within a fortnight, ye must give me a big kiss on the mouth in front of him.”

  “Ye are a devil,” she said, unable to keep from laughing, despite the tension she felt with Ian bearing down on them. “And if ye are wrong?”

  A slow smile spread across Alex’s face. “Why, the same, lass. The very same.”

  Ian must have been bewitched by faeries to let his cousin take Sìleas out in the boat alone.

  You’re no doing so well on your own, Alex had said to him. Let me see if I can help her to see things your way. Ye know how persuasive I can be.

  Ian knew precisely how persuasive his handsome cousin could be. Women fell over each other to make fools of themselves with Alex.

  The sea was rough, and heavy, black rain clouds were rolling in as Ian paced the beach. Where in the hell were they? What was Alex doing keeping her out with this storm coming? The weather was getting worse by the moment.

  He reminded himself that Alex had a second sense on the water, as if a Viking ancestor was whispering guidance in his ear. All the same, Alex shouldn’t be taking chances with Sìleas in the boat.

  Ian glanced again at the old, leaky boat resting high on the shore. He was almost desperate enough to take it out to look for them, when he caught sight of their boat as it appeared and disappeared between the troughs. By the saints, he was going to kill Alex.

  As they neared shore, Ian waded out into the rough surf to help haul the boat in. Neither the icy water nor the cold, wet wind on his face cooled his temper. It burned hotter still when Sìleas moved to Alex’s end of the boat and her laugh traveled across the water.

  He caught hold of the side and steadied it as Alex dropped into the water. Instead of taking his side of the boat, Alex lifted Sìleas out. Alex headed for the shore, carrying her in his arms above the reach of the waves—and leaving Ian to drag the boat alone as if he were a damned servant.

  “Mind the boat!” Alex shouted over his shoulder. “We don’t want to lose her.”

  When Alex reached the sandy beach, he turned with Sìleas still
in his arms to watch Ian do his work for him. For God’s sake, why did the man not set her on her own two feet now? And there she was, smiling up at Alex, as if she were enjoying herself.

  As soon as he had secured the boat, Ian stomped across the beach to join them. “Is my wife injured?”

  “I wouldn’t let harm come to my favorite lass, now would I?” Alex said with a broad wink at Sìleas. “But I couldn’t risk letting her get tossed about in the surf. ’Tis a stormy day, if ye hadn’t noticed.”

  “I suggest ye set her down before I break your arms,” Ian said. “Better yet, I’ll take her.”

  “I can stand,” Sìleas said. “Put me down.”

  “Whatever ye say, lass,” Alex said, and set her down.

  Ian itched to give his cousin a clout across his smiling face, but he wanted some answers first. “What in the hell were ye doing, having her out on the water with that storm coming? And don’t tell me ye didn’t see it.”

  “ ’Course I saw it coming,” Alex said, easy as could be. “I may have cut it a wee bit close, because we were having such a grand time, ye see. But we made it in all right.”

  Ian glared down at Sìleas and did not feel at all badly when she trembled. With her color high from the wind and her hair wild about her, she looked like a sea nymph come to shore hoping to be ravished.

  “What were the two of ye doing out there so long?” he said to her. “I didn’t see any fish in the damned boat.”

  “It was a poor day for fishing,” she said.

  Now that he thought of it, there wasn’t even a net in the boat.

  “Then just what were ye doing all this time?” he yelled, with the image of her arms around Alex’s neck as he carried her to shore vivid in his mind. “Is it not enough that ye have Gòrdan Graumach eating out of your hand?”

  “Ye may find it strange, but I enjoy being with a man who doesn’t shout at me,” she said, shouting herself.

  “Enjoying Alex, were ye?”

  With her green eyes flashing and her hair whipping about her face, she looked like the magnificent Celtic warrior queen, Scáthach, herself.

  “Ye have no call to accuse me of what ye are,” she said, poking her finger into his chest.