by Eliza Knight
Edan went in search of the stable master to let him know they’d be preparing to leave shortly, and to have their horses fed a hearty breakfast of oats to prepare for the journey.
The stable was quiet, save for the light scuffing of a hoof or a snort.
Edan cleared his throat to alert the master, or any lads, of his presence. What he didn’t expect to hear was a woman’s voice answering him, “Who is there?”
Why did it sound like Lady Blair? Edan quickly and quietly traversed the dirt-packed path between the stables toward the back, where he found Blair sitting in the hay with a large lamb taking up more than the entire expanse of her lap. The soft white creature had a black face and boots and was licking Blair’s face with all the affection he might expect to see from a puppy. The sight was endearing, even if it was unexpected.
Blair was giggling and stroking her fingers through the thick fleece. When she spotted him, she stilled, and her face flushed a pretty pink. She was even more lovely like this than she was in the moonlight. A shy smiled covered her face. It looked at first like she might look down, but she seemed to force herself to meet his gaze.
“My laird,” she said softly.
Edan leaned against the barn wall, arms crossed over his chest as he watched. “I take it ye like lambs?”
“Aye,” she giggled. “This is Bluebell.”
“Your pet?” He raised a brow.
“Aye.” She ducked her head behind the lamb’s face, pressing a kiss.
“And I suppose this is why ye didna eat any mutton yesterday.”
“Indeed it is.”
Why was he so fascinated by this? “She seems to like ye quite a bit.”
“How could ye tell?” The playful grin on Blair’s face was enough to make his own smile broaden. Mo chreach, but he was enchanted by her.
“Well, if not by the way she’s licking all over your face, it would be how comfortable she is draped over your lap.” He refrained from mentioning how he wouldn’t mind taking the place of the lamb.
“I’ve had her since she was only a few weeks old. Do ye have any pets, my laird?”
“None as loving as yours.”
“Nay? Your horse doesna love ye?”
“He respects me.”
She winged a brow at that. “And have ye no hounds? Doesna every warrior have a hound?”
“I’ve never had a home to raise one in.”
“But now ye do.”
“Aye.”
She grinned. “Perhaps I will get ye a wee puppy then, my laird. Someone to lick your face.”
This time, his lip curled mischievously, and he couldn’t help but say, “’Haps I’ve already found someone I want to lick my face.”
If possible, her face went ten shades of red, and once more, she ducked behind her lamb’s body to hide herself.
Edan cleared his throat, shifted on his feet and then kneeled in the hay to rub his own hand through the soft fleece. “Indeed, I may need a Bluebell of my own.” His words and gesture had the desired effect, and she peeked out from behind her lamb’s head. “I came to tell the stable master to ready mine and my men’s mounts for departure.”
Her mouth formed a circle of surprise, and a little wrinkle formed between her brows, but she didn’t say anything.
He’d told her the night before he wouldn’t beg, that he wouldn’t ask her more than once. Yet if he didn’t, he’d spend the rest of his days wondering if she would have agreed to be his had he only set aside his pride and opened his mouth. “That is…unless I’ve a reason to stay.”
She swallowed hard, the “O” of her lips disappearing as she closed her mouth.
A tug in his chest had him reaching for her and taking her hand in his. He brushed the pad of his thumb over her knuckles. “What say ye, lass?”
“I see no reason for ye to leave just yet,” she whispered.
Hope soared inside him, and he flicked his gaze over her face, trying to gauge if she was saying what he wished for.
But she kept ducking her head, hiding her eyes from his regard. Edan stroked his free hand over Bluebell’s pelt, unable to let her go. Blair wouldn’t look at him, but her eyes followed the path of his hand. He touched two fingers to her chin and bid her look up at him.
“Marry me,” he said again, then winked. “And I, too, shall lick your face.”
Blair burst out laughing and tossed a handful of hay at him. Edan chuckled, tugging straw from his hair, enjoying this playful side of her.
“Always so serious, my laird. I would not have thought ye one to make such jests.”
“I may surprise ye more often than not, my lady, but I promise ye, I make no jest about marrying ye. Say aye and come away with me.”
“I dinna even know your given name.” She pursed her lips, looking perplexed.
“Edan, lass, call me Edan.”
“’Tis a pretty name.”
He raised a brow. “’Tis the first time I’ve ever heard that word used to describe me.”
She reached forward, her hand pausing in mid-air. Her beautiful, big blue eyes met his. But she clammed up then, as though not giving herself permission to speak her mind or to touch him as she’d wished.
Edan took her outstretched hand and drew it to his lips. “Marry me.”
An audible sigh left her, her mouth opening and closing, throat bobbing as she swallowed. Edan waited patiently, but when no words seemed to be forthcoming, his heart sank. She didn’t want to marry him, or else she was in shock.
He hoped for shock. Withdrawing his hand from hers, he stood. “I’ll see ye in the great hall to break our fast, and I hope ye’ll have an answer for me then.” And then he headed in the direction of his horse, giving her the space she needed to sort out her thoughts.
He wanted her to want him. To choose him herself, and not because she felt she had no other choice, or because he’d asked her enough times that she’d finally submitted. And he wasn’t going to kiss her again until she said aye.
If by noon she’d not yet come to him, he would be on his way back to Rose lands. It made no sense for him to stay, and his men back home would be wondering what had transpired. Luckily, they were only a day or two’s ride away, depending on the weather. If he’d come on a birlinn, it was only a few hours across the firth.
Edan’s mount greeted him with a knicker and a bob of his head, thrusting his dark muzzle toward Edan’s outstretched hand. He was wrong when he said his mount only respected him. The beast did like him, loved him even, and the feeling was mutual. He stroked a hand over Burn’s soft muzzle and face, rubbed down his neck.
“How did ye sleep?” he murmured, pulled out a carrot from a nearby bucket and passed it to Burn, who crunched with pleasure.
Behind him, he could hear the clop-clop of the sheep hooves against the stable floor. When he turned around, it was to see that Blair must have slipped unheard from the stables, because her sweet lamb was all alone. Bluebell slid her body along his side, and he patted her head and picked out a carrot for her, too, which she gleefully took and ran back toward the hay where she’d been sleeping.
Edan left the stable and made his way to the great hall, seeking out the Earl of Sutherland. He found the man standing and speaking with his son by the mantle. Lady Blair was not yet present, though her two cousins were standing in the corner of the great hall, whispering and pointing at him.
Had she been talking about him? Was that too much to hope for?
“My laird,” Edan said with an incline of his head toward Magnus and Liam.
“I trust ye enjoyed your evening?” Magnus asked.
“Aye, my men and I owe ye our gratitude for your hospitality.” Edan cleared his throat and took the ale a passing servant handed him. He downed the contents in one long swill. “I was wondering, my laird, if I might have a word with ye in private?”
The older man nodded without hesitation and passed a glance toward his son, words exchanged between them in looks only.
He followed Magnu
s up the circular stair until they entered the same study that they’d used the day before. Once the door was closed, Magnus went to a sideboard and poured a dram of whisky, drinking it down before offering one to Edan, even though it was morning.
Edan shook his head, wanting to remain perfectly level-headed. “I wanted to discuss with ye—”
“I know what ye want to discuss, but perhaps now I’ve changed my mind.”
Edan swallowed, his words disappearing for a moment. What the devil? “Perhaps is not a certainty, and I’ll take my chances. I’ve gotten to know your daughter better since we spoke yesterday.”
“How much better?” Magnus narrowed his eyes at Edan as though he knew exactly what had happened between them. He set the small pewter cup down on the table, far more gently than his white-knuckled grip would have indicated.
“We’ve spoken on several occasions. And I believe I made too hasty of a decision yesterday in rejecting your offer to marry her.” And dammit, he prayed the lass was going to find him before noon and tell him she agreed to wed. “I would verra much like ye to reconsider, if she’s willing.”
“Why do ye want to marry her? And dinna spew at me reasons of an alliance, because I already know that. I want to know why ye think ye’re worthy of my daughter’s hand.” The older man’s gaze was hard, assessing as he raked it over Edan. He felt much the same as he had that first time he’d met the king. A wee lad who should have been home cuddling with his mother, but instead thrust into a world of political intrigue and violence. The king had paused, wondering why he should consider fostering a weak-looking lad. And from that moment on, Edan had made certain he went above and beyond to prove he wasn’t ever weak. To prove he was worthy.
Worthy. There was that word again that had the power to bring Edan to his knees. He’d been trying to prove since he’d first drawn breath that he was worthy. Worthy of parents that abandoned him to the king’s court. Worthy of a king who’d been forced to raise him. Worthy of replacing a brother he barely knew other than what an incredibly honorable leader he’d been. Worthy of a woman he found he couldn’t stop thinking about.
The time for wondering had to come to an end. Hadn’t he proved himself enough? “I have served the king well since I was but a lad. I will protect her with my life. I will make her happy.”
Magnus seemed unfazed. “I dinna need ye to recite your vows to me, lad. I need ye to tell me why ye cherish her enough to wed her for all the days of your life.”
Edan drew in a deep breath and decided to bear his soul. If he were the father of an incredible woman, he’d want to hear the truth. To know that a man cherished his precious prize. “She has captivated me like no other. Where others find her to be indecisive, I find her to be definitive. She is a strong and intelligent woman, one whom I’d value at my side to help me rule Rose lands, to grow our clan together.” There were other reasons, but those he didn’t think the earl would want to hear, such as how he longed to hold her in his arms and hear those little whimpers of pleasure as they crossed over his lips. How he wanted to tease her, and see her face light up with pleasure, hear the surprising tinkle of her laughter, and uncover all the mysteries of her soul. “I am fond of her,” he added. “And I believe she is fond of me.”
Magnus grunted and poured himself another drink, this time not offering one to Edan. He didn’t blame the older man. He supposed when he had children, it would be hard a thing to say goodbye.
“I have heard many good things from the king about ye, enough so that I can say ye’re a good man. There is also the fact that ye impressed me yesterday when ye said nay in regard to my proposed betrothal. Understand that Blair is a verra special lass. Not only is she my youngest daughter, but I believe her to be the most cunning, and should ye ever cross her, I dinna doubt she’d thrust a dagger through your heart—and mine would be next.”
Edan swallowed, though he couldn’t help a small smile. “I dinna doubt ye, and I’d expect nothing less.”
“I will have to speak to my daughter before I can offer ye my blessing.”
“I would only wish to marry her if she is willing,” Edan repeated.
Magnus nodded and poured yet another drink. “Was there anything else?”
The man was going to be drunk before they even had breakfast. “Only that I admire ye, my laird, for indulging her with Bluebell.”
Magnus grunted a laugh. “I expect ye’ll do the same.”
Edan grinned, recalling how Blair had actually been the one to promise him a wee pet. “I will spend the rest of my life making certain she is well pleased.”
Magnus grunted. “Good. Now, if ye’ll excuse me.”
The older laird didn’t move from where he stood, and so Edan took his cue and left the study. As soon as the door was closed, he caught the scent of Blair in the corridor.
He couldn’t help a soft chuckle. “Are ye hiding out here again, lass?”
She let out a soft sigh from the alcove where he’d first kissed her. “I find I’m getting rather good at all this subterfuge. ’Haps I should make my ploy to spy for the king.” She stepped out of the shadows, stunning him once more with her dark beauty.
“’Tis a dangerous thing for anyone, especially a woman, but I think ye’d manage if that was your pleasure.”
“Ye were speaking to my father.” She glanced toward the closed door.
“Aye.”
“About what?” Her gaze flicked back to his, hoping for an honest answer, and no doubt expecting he’d skirt around it.
“I told him that I wished to marry ye, if ye’d have me.”
She cocked her head. “And what did ye say?”
“That he’d speak to ye about it.”
She nodded. “What would ye say if I told ye I came to speak to him on the same matter?”
Edan’s chest swelled. “I’d say ye’d have made me a happy man.”
“I didna say that I agreed.”
A dagger to the heart, that was. “Do ye jest, my lady? I fear if ye’re not mine, I’ll be an unhappy man the rest of my days.”
She smiled and reached forward. This time she didn’t hesitate and pressed her hand to his heart. “Though the circumstances of our meeting were… Let’s just say, I’d have planned differently.”
He nodded.
“I have never met another man like ye, my laird.” Beautiful blue eyes searched his face.
She took his breath away. He wanted to hear her call him by his name from this day and forever more. “Call me Edan, sweetling.”
“Edan.” His name rolled sensually of her tongue. “I wish to marry ye.”
He pressed his hand over hers and brought her knuckles to his lips, enjoying the flash of pleasure that coursed over her face.
“I’ve never heard words that gave me more pleasure.”
He wanted to kiss her, to draw her in, but at that moment, her father opened the door and glared daggers at their joined hands.
“Rose,” he growled at Edan. “Get your hands off my daughter.”
“Da,” Blair said, her voice melodic. “I wish to marry this man.”
Magnus let out a long-suffering sigh. “I expected as much.”
Blair’s laughter had Edan smiling, and even Magnus, as gruff as he’d been a breath before, had merriment dancing in his eyes.
Blair watched Edan walk away, his shoulders straighter than when he’d first approached her father’s study. When he was out of sight, she slipped into the chamber to speak with her father. He was standing by the sideboard pouring a dram of whisky. Before he could sip, she hurried forward, pressed her hand over top of it and asked, “Is that for me, Da?”
Magnus raised his brows. “Do ye need it, lass?”
Her da had indulged each of his daughter’s believing they all had a place in the world; however they saw fit. He’d bought her bows and oars so she might try her hand at the skills her sisters possessed. He’d allowed her to ride as often as she wanted, even the warhorses that most lassies wouldn’t dare
mount. He’d allowed her to sip his whisky when her mother wasn’t looking, and to learn to read before she was fully adept at cutting her meat.
“I think so.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“So ye want to marry, aye?”
“I do.”
“And ye think Laird Rose is the man to see it through?”
“No other has ever interested me.”
“That says quite a lot.”
“I thought so.”
“What if I’m not ready to part with ye?” he asked.
Blair sipped the whisky and screwed up her nose, nearly choking on its potency before she tossed it back the rest of the way. The liquid burned a path down her throat and warmed her belly.
“I would say the same, Da. I’m not ready to part with any of ye, but I am ready to be a wife, and I find myself to have taken a fancy to Edan Rose. He is a good man. I think I can make him happy, and I’m certain he will make me feel the same way.”
Magnus nodded. “’Tis what a father hopes for. What I dinna understand is the missive, lass.”
She bit her lip and shook her head. “I dinna know how it got into his hands. I thought I destroyed it… I think one of my cousins felt the need to act on my behalf. And I forgive whichever one of them did so. But I fear I shall never trust them again for taking away my choice, even if it has brought me happiness.”
“Aye. We are lucky the foolish actions did not lead to war.”
Blair looked toward her feet, feeling ashamed. “I’m sorry, Da.”
“Och, dinna fash. We all make mistakes. But I must know that your decision to wed Laird Rose doesna stem from guilt.”
Her head shot up, and she shook her head. “Oh, nay, Da, I really do care for him.”
“Well then, we’ve a wedding to plan.”
She wrapped her arms around her father, squeezing her eyes shut and listening to the familiar beat of his heart.
He pressed his hand to the back of her head, stroking down her hair. “I love ye, sweet lass.”
“I love ye, too, Da.”