Lachlan grunted, and James laughed. Ursula wanted out of the game. But Alasdair sat stoically at the table, no doubt unaware of the innuendo behind the question.
Ethan slipped off his matching ring and placed in on the table. “Eilean Donan Castle.”
“You mean Dunster Castle,” his twin brother corrected him.
Alasdair glared at Ethan across the table. If given another chance, he’d most likely tear Ethan’s head off, but instead Alasdair loosen the sporran around his waist and placed it next to the dragon rings. “The Faery Flag of Skye Isle.”
Everyone gasped except Alasdair.
Ursula reached under her skirt for her herb satchel. As she stirred the contents around with her fingers, all eyes were on her.
Finally, she found the item she needed and placed it in the center of the table. “My heart,” she said directly to Alasdair, placing a petite heart-shaped locket next to his sporran.
“Are all bets in?” James asked the group, assuming his role of leader and referee.
Lachlan stood and chuckled. “The ring was a jest,” he admitted, but then looked to his half-brother. “Now that the real jester has joined us, I withdraw my bid,” Lachlan said with an edgy tone and slipped his dragon tail ring back on his finger.
Ursula sucked in a breath and waited to see what would happen next. It had been rewarding when the coins were piling up in her corner, but now there was much on the line.
Alasdair cleared his throat and directed his question at Ethan, “Is your bid Dunster Castle?”
Instead of answering, Ethan drew a large velvet pouch from his traveling cape and set it in the middle of the table, then withdrew his dragon ring. Slipping his family heirloom back on his finger, he said, “Moaning Molly’s treasure.”
Alasdair’s and Ursula’s eyes met, and their brows rose. Ursula shrugged her shoulders. Now she knew what had happened to Ethan. He’d sought out the treasure for himself and ignored the need for the flower or the flag, the items he’d been entrusted to collect.
“Is that enough?” James asked Ethan what they were all thinking.
In response, Ethan looked at Alasdair, and then to Ursula, before he dumped the contents of the velvet bag onto the middle of the table.
Ursula gasped when she spied a tiny golden crown made of thorns sitting amongst the gold coins.
“Aye, it’s enough,” Ethan said, his eyes trained on Ursula.
Would he still continue to pursue her after all that had happened?
Ursula turned to James. “’Tis enough,” she said confidently. “Let the game begin.”
James had each of them roll one die for the order of the game. As it turned out, Ursula would go first, followed by Alasdair, and Ethan last.
The game was simple and required no specific skill other than strong nerves, a steady hand, and a straight face.
But James was the obvious choice to serve as mediator, making sure there was no deviation from the rules or the dice in play. And the more matched the score, the more on edge she became.
Finally, the scores were close enough to thirty-one that each would have at least one more turn.
Alasdair went first, finishing with thirty.
Ursula went next, finishing at twenty-nine. She stole a look at her Highlander, and he grinned back.
Ethan was at twenty-five. He’d have to roll again. If he went over, Alasdair would take it all, the flag, the faerie crown with the gold, and Ursula’s heart.
Ursula banked on Alasdair to win. She had no worldly possessions, and her heart was the only item of value she could offer. James had allowed it, she guessed, because he, too, assumed Alasdair would win. Or that her Highlander would simply crush Ethan if he won.
The image of Alasdair’s hands around Ethan’s neck made her crack a smile as she glanced down at her own hands. They were gripped so tightly her knuckles had turned white while she waited for the dice to roll.
The sound of the square ivory stones pinged across the wood, and then the dice stopped.
Alasdair roared.
Ursula squeezed her eyes tight. Was it in his favor or was he angry?
The next thing she knew, Ursula was hauled up into his arms and he was kissing her face.
Eyes popping open, Ursula sighed inwardly, happy to find Alasdair’s face smiling into hers. She clapped her hands together as her gaze traveled to the table to find a set of fives on the dice and Ethan nowhere to be seen.
In the center of the table sat her locket, Alasdair’s sporran, and the Faery Queen’s crown. The gold was gone.
Her eyes sought out James. “I didn’t have the heart to tell him no,” the Garter knight said apologetically.
Ursula laughed along with Alasdair, Lachlan, and Elena. The mighty Garter knight was crestfallen, as if he’d lost a major battle.
“I won what my heart desires when Ethan lost,” Alasdair said proudly, gazing into her eyes after the laughter had stopped. “I have no need for gold coins when I’ve won a heart of gold instead,” he added.
Ursula’s heart was bursting. If it wouldn’t have been considered inappropriate, she would have smothered him with kisses.
There had been very little time for them to be alone, what with defending the march on Fyvie with the Faery Flag and guiding Rosalyn through a safe labor with the aid of the guelder rose.
Although they’d not talked about the future, Ursula needed to know if she had one with Alasdair. Many would find him intimidating, but not her. She’d discovered he was not the tyrannical clan laird who’d demanded an heir when they’d met, but instead, he was a gentle giant with a generous heart who’d traveled the breadth of Scotland for a noble cause.
Ursula gazed into his dark-hazel eyes. His rustic locks framed his charismatic smile, and she all but melted into his arms.
“Come love,” he whispered to her. “We must celebrate our victory.”
Setting Ursula down on her feet as if she was lighter than air, Alasdair took her locket and the Faery crown, then tucked them carefully in his sporran before he secured it around his waist.
After saying their goodnights to Lachlan, James, and Elena, they promised to check in on Rosalyn and the twins. Then Alasdair took her hand and led her across the great hall. When they passed under its grand arch, he swept her up in his arms again.
“You are my winnings,” he said, grinning broadly and climbing up the stairs on the way to the solar.
“I’ve never been a prize to be won,” she told him. “But I’m grateful you did not haul me over your shoulder like Lachlan used to do with Rosalyn.”
Once they’d reached Rosalyn’s room, he gazed down at her again, his lip twisting into a mischievous shape. “Well, if it’s commonly done here, who am I to break tradition?” he said, flipping her over his good shoulder.
“Put me down, Alasdair MacLeod,” she shouted as he crossed the threshold into Rosalyn’s room. As Alasdair turned to shut the door, he spun her around to face her sister of the heart, who sat in her bed with a babe in each arm.
Rosalyn’s eyes lit up. “I see Alasdair will fit into this family just fine.” Her friend appeared to be deriving too much pleasure from Ursula’s inconvenience.
“We wanted to say goodnight,” Alasdair offered, twisting around halfway so they could both see Rosalyn.
“Say goodnight, Angelica and Andrew,” her sister of the heart said, taking each of the newborn’s hands and waving.
Alasdair chuckled at the gesture, the gleeful rumbling traveling through him, making Ursula vibrate, too. She cracked a smile. How could she be grumpy when the babes looked so cute and their mother so happy?
A short knock and a moment later, Thea bustled across the room with a nod of acknowledgment, intent on getting the babies settled for the night.
Ursula wav
ed back at the twins from her perch on Alasdair’s shoulder, and he carried her out, leaving Thea to her fussing.
Out in the corridor, Alasdair continued to carry Ursula like a sack of grain, passing by her chamber room next to Rosalyn’s and continuing toward his own.
When she wiggled, he spanked her bottom. Not hard, but to show her who was in charge. For a moment, it brought back the frightful memories of Ian MacDonald swatting her arse to her utmost embarrassment.
“Put me down,” she demanded. The ruse was up, and she’d had enough of his winner-take-all demonstration.
“All in good time, my lady,” he said as he slowed before his chamber door. With a slight lean to reach the latch and release it, he passed through the door and dropped her face down in the middle of his bed before she could shout her refusal.
She sputtered, flipping over. Then she blew her hair out of her face with one big exasperating breath. When she could see again, it was to find Alasdair on one knee before the edge of the bed.
“Come here, my Faery Queen.” He made the plea with such a husky voice and a burning desire in his eyes that all her petty frustrations melted away.
Taking her hand, he guided her to the edge where she could sit before him. Then Alasdair took a deep breath and held it for a moment, as if he had something important to say and was gathering the nerve to set the words free.
“Even before I met you, I knew you from a prophecy passed down from my great-great-great-grandfather. It foretold the MacLeods sons that followed would be destined to be lonely until the day they could find a worthy Faery Queen.
“Ursula, you have proven yourself worthy to any man in all of Scotland, but I ask you find the worth in me.
“When I thought you were dead, I died, too. I was tortured by the loss and unsure I could go on. Until I took up your quest to help Rosalyn.
“Before I met you, my goal was to become Lord of the Isles. With King James’s blessing, I’ve gathered the support to earn the title.
“But what I’ve found is the only title I really want is husband. I ask you again what I did days ago, but before I knew what you truly meant to me.”
“Will you bear me an heir?” she asked, not because she wasn’t thrilled to hear what he meant to her, but to prove a point.
“Yes, will you bear me an heir, because I love you.”
He loved her? The wall around Ursula’s heart crumbled. She had given away her heart ceremoniously in the game, but now it was time to set aside her callousness and let Alasdair’s love in.
“Yes, I am bearing you an heir.” She waited until her words registered and his eyes went wide, then she finished her thought, “And I love you, too.”
“You are?” He stammered. “You do?”
“Both,” she said, laughing at his disbelief. “If what the faeries said is true, I am.”
“You believe in faeries?”
“I believe in the Faery Flag and its magic.”
“Well, its magic is spent. It’s not much more than a family memento now.” He stared at her. “How did you convince the faeries to return the flag to me?”
Ursula leaned forward and stroked Alasdair’s hair. It wasn’t often he was at her level like this, and she enjoyed it. But he still had a lot to learn about her.
“‘Do nae doubt the flag has more magic.’ That’s what the Faery Queen said when she gave it to me.” She paused and then cracked a smile. “I told them you’d stolen it from me.” Ursula shrugged her shoulders. “Faeries deserve some of their own trickery. Although they did nae want to help mend my broken heart, they were willing to return the flag to whom they believed was its rightful owner,” she said in a boastful tone, pointing at herself.
Alasdair’s laugh was like a golden light. It bounced off the walls and lit up the room. “I won your heart, but you’ve won the bargain.”
Apparently satisfied with Ursula’s answer, her Highlander kissed her as if he’d love her for all eternity.
They were both of the Fae, so she believed he would.
Also from Soul Mate Publishing and Maria Dillon:
THE LADY OF THE GARTER
When Henry VII takes the throne, not all are loyal to the new king. Garter knight, Sir James, is charged with bringing dissenters to justice. Determined to fulfill his vows, he’s unprepared for Lady Elena, a girl from his past.
Lady Elena defies her family and disguises herself as a squire to reunite with the man she’s always loved. She might be able to wield a sword, but she still possesses a woman’s heart.
Thrust into a world of danger and family rivalry, James and Elena face the ultimate test.
Can James avenge his father’s death and find passion, or will his Garter oaths hold him to a life of service without love?
Available now on Amazon: THE LADY OF THE GARTER
THE GOLDEN ROSE OF SCOTLAND
When poisonings are an everyday occurrence, healer Rosalyn Macpherson must be ready with an antidote. Unless it’s for the English Lord who means to claim her clan’s Highland castle.
What’s in a name? Everything, for Lord Lachlan de Leverton, a charismatic English aristocrat. He’ll break the law to sever his ties to his notorious family. But first, he must secure the deed to Fyvie Castle before the feisty Scottish lass wins it.
Because of their conflicting claims, Rosalyn and Lachlan are ordered to appear in Edinburgh’s royal court, and in an unusual twist of fate, they are assigned as guardians, rather than prisoners, to a caravan carrying the Golden Rose, a papal gift for the King of Scots.
When the royal decree becomes a forced union between the two, it’s not the remedy Rosalyn had hoped for, but by now she doesn’t hate this Englishman quite as much.
Before the knot is tied, the Rose is stolen and Lachlan’s suspected of the crime. Rosalyn then faces the hardest decision yet. Must she sacrifice her precious Philosophers Stone or the land she loves, or both, to save him?
Available now on Amazon: THE GOLDEN ROSE OF SCOTLAND
With a bachelor’s degree in journalism, Marisa has spent many years writing for the television industry. As an award-winning producer/director/marketer, she has worked on commercial production, show creation, product branding and social media.
Marisa has always enjoyed reading romance novels and now fulfills a dream by writing romantic adventures not for the faint of heart. The Secret of Skye Isle is her third book in the Ladies of Lore series with Soul Mate Publishing.
You can visit Marisa at: www.marisadillon.com.
And you can connect with Marisa on
Twitter.com/marisadillon,
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/10792736.Marisa_Dillon,
and https://www.bookbub.com/profile/marisa-dillon
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