Bride of Ice

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Bride of Ice Page 21

by Glynnis Campbell


  For a long while, neither could speak. The air was filled with their labored breathing. The soft crackle of the fire. The feathery rustle of the mattress.

  Finally, in the wreckage of their passion, Colban broke the silence.

  Lifting himself on one arm, he brushed the hair from her brow with the back of his fingers. When she opened her eyes, he was staring down at her with such fondness that she felt her throat close.

  “Och, Hallie,” he sighed in regret, “I have a confession. I hate to tell ye, lass. But I fear I cannot marry ye for convenience.”

  His words, at odds with his expression, instantly chilled her heart. She froze in shock as a dozen wretched thoughts drifted like snow into her tormented mind.

  Was Colban breaking his word? Had he never intended to keep it? Did he not care about peace between their clans? Or was it something else? Had he found her lacking? God’s blood! Did he already have a wife?

  Panic squeezed her lungs. God’s eyes, she’d given him her maidenhood.

  “What do you mean?” she croaked.

  He deflected her worry with a tender look. “I mean what I feel for ye is much more than an ‘understandin’.”

  Suddenly she couldn’t breathe. Or speak. The curses of hurt and betrayal died on her lips.

  He smiled sheepishly. “I fear I’m in love with ye, lass.”

  She blinked. He could have knocked her over with a feather.

  But in love with her? How could he be in love with her? He hardly knew her.

  The idea was preposterous. Wasn’t it?

  Of course, she had to admit she felt a certain fondness for him as well. She admired his courage. Respected his loyalty. Appreciated his kindness.

  Just the sight of him—standing at the window, hunkering by the fire, brandishing his claymore in battle, reclining in naked splendor in the bath—made her heart pound.

  Even now she felt desire and affection for him filling her veins, like one of Isabel’s elixirs of love.

  The words gushed out of her before she could stop them. “I fear I love you as well.”

  Almost immediately she regretted her carelessness. Confessing her feelings was an irresponsible and unwise thing to do. With those words, the protective icy shell around her heart splintered, leaving her completely vulnerable.

  Damn it. She owed her strength to that armor. It was what had always kept her calm. And safe. And separate.

  It was also what had kept her alone.

  The stark truth of that paralyzed her.

  Until this moment, she didn’t realize just how alone she’d felt. And now, as Colban’s soft brown eyes melted her with adoration, she couldn’t imagine life without him.

  She was in love with him. For better or worse, their hearts were forever entwined. And soon they would take the vows to prove it.

  But for now she would rest, content for the moment to lie in his comforting arms, feeling his breath upon her brow, his chest rising and falling, his flesh melding with hers.

  There would be time later to sort out her feelings.

  She needed to close her eyes. Just for a wee bit. Just until she could recover from the remarkable adventure she’d just had.

  Colban thought he was the luckiest man alive.

  The most beautiful woman in all of Scotland had promised her hand in marriage, gifted him with her virginity, and declared her love for him.

  The fact that she had fallen into a deep sleep almost instantly afterward wasn’t a reflection on his charm. Rather it was a testament to her comfort, her trust in him.

  She could trust him. He was nothing if not loyal. He might not have the trappings of nobility. But he was a champion at heart. She could be confident of his love. Always.

  It was with that promise that he too drifted off to slumber.

  So at ease was he, dozing with the Valkyrie in his arms, he didn’t rouse again until the room was dark, the fire was cold, and the chill of midnight intruded upon their warm embrace.

  His first thought upon waking was for her honor.

  He had to get her back to her chamber.

  Hallie could divulge the news of their betrothal to her clan in her own time. She didn’t need the help of mischievous wagging tongues.

  Careful not to wake her, he rose and dressed quickly. He managed to slip her leine over her head, and she drowsily poked her arms into the sleeves.

  Then he grabbed her kirtle and slippers and whisked her up into his arms to carry her. Avoiding the slick patches on the floor, he limped to the door and peered out.

  No one was guarding the corridor. So he crept to the door of her chamber and gently pushed inward.

  By the dim glow of firelight, he saw Isabel was already asleep in the bed. He prayed she wouldn’t wake up and do something drastic. Like scream.

  She didn’t.

  Colban slipped Hallie carefully beneath the coverlet and tucked the linens in around her shoulders.

  As he caressed her hair, watching her sleep in well-earned peace, he felt more than just affection for his lovely prize of a bride.

  He felt a primitive drive to protect her. To keep her secure. To make the world safe for her.

  He wanted to provide for her. To make her a home. To keep food on her table. To be her shelter in every storm.

  And he longed to give her bairns. A whole army of wee warriors with her ice-bright hair, her brilliant blue eyes, and her skill with a blade.

  With a smile of delight, he crept back to the door. Before he sneaked back into his quarters, he turned to take one last glance at his precious bride-to-be.

  Most of all, he yearned to prove his love to her. To make theirs a marriage of mutual respect and empathy.

  A marriage that would stand the test of time.

  No matter what temptations arose to discourage them.

  Or what challenges arose to thwart them.

  “Psssst.”

  Hallie started.

  “Hallie,” Isabel whispered.

  Hallie frowned. Why was Isabel disturbing her sleep?

  “Hallie,” Isabel hissed, louder this time.

  “What?” she grunted.

  “I told you so.”

  Hallie drifted off again.

  Isabel nudged her awake.

  “Stop it,” Hallie groused.

  “I said, I told you so.”

  “Told me so, what?”

  “I told you he was The One.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Colban. I told you he was The One.”

  That woke Hallie up, instantly orienting her. She blinked rapidly, trying to recall how she’d arrived back in her bedchamber.

  “How was the bath?” Isabel pried.

  Hallie blushed as the details of what she’d done came into clear focus.

  “’Twas a bath,” she snapped. “How do you think ’twas?”

  “It took a rather long time, don’t you think?”

  Knowing the best defense was a good offense, Hallie retorted, “He’s a rather large man.”

  “Ooh.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Go back to sleep.” Hallie flounced over with her back to her pesky sister.

  “Did he enjoy the bath?”

  “I didn’t ask him,” Hallie muttered over her shoulder.

  “Because it sounded like he enjoyed it.”

  “What?”

  “It sounded like you enjoyed it as well.”

  Hallie flipped back over so fast it made Isabel gasp. “What are you talking about?”

  Isabel feigned an unconvincing yawn. “I’m just relieved no one was hurt.” She rolled away, snuggling into her pillow. “Considering all the gasping and groaning that was—”

  Hallie grabbed Isabel by the shoulder and whipped her onto her back. “You pesky imp! Were you spying on me?”

  Isabel frowned and batted Hallie’s hands away. “Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t have to. The way you two were carrying on…�
��

  Hallie’s eyes widened, and her mouth made an O of outrage. She couldn’t even think of words harsh enough to chastise her prying sister.

  But chastising Isabel was the least of her worries. “Isabel Cameliard, don’t you dare breathe a word about this to anyone. Not Ian or Gellir or—”

  “Why would I do that?” Isabel seemed hurt by the insinuation. “Colban does mean to marry you now, aye? He’s a gentleman, after all. He wouldn’t just swive you and—”

  “Shhh!” It was bad enough that Isabel knew what she’d done. Hallie didn’t need to hear it described. “Aye. We’re going to be married.”

  Isabel ducked under the coverlet to stifle a squeal of joy.

  Hallie bit back a smile. It was good news, even if she’d hoped to break it to her siblings herself.

  Isabel popped her head back out. “I’m so happy for you, Hallie. I knew he was The One. Didn’t I tell you he was The One?”

  “You did,” she admitted, feeling rather magnanimous.

  If Isabel wanted to take credit for the match, she supposed there was no harm in it.

  “And now you’re going to live happily ever after,” Isabel said on a sigh.

  “Well, I don’t know about that.”

  A lifetime of happiness was seldom guaranteed when a marriage was made for convenience. But it secretly thrilled Hallie to think about the possibility of having the kind of lasting union her parents had.

  “You will,” Isabel insisted. “I can feel it.” Then she yawned and gave Hallie a patronizing pat on the arm. “In the meantime, you should get some sleep. We have to start planning the wedding feast on the morrow.”

  Hallie smirked. A wedding feast was the least of her concerns. She had to secure permission for the marriage from her parents and the king first.

  With great leadership came great responsibility. Certainly they’d see Hallie had done the responsible thing. She’d done what she was born to do—secured a husband who would bring a peaceful and prosperous future to the clan and strong offspring to carry on the Rivenloch line. Surely they would recognize that.

  As if she’d read Hallie’s mind, Isabel sleepily murmured, “Ma and Da are going to love him. You’ll see.”

  She hoped so. She hoped that once she introduced Colban an Curaidh to her parents, they would agree she’d made a wise and strategic choice.

  She fell asleep, dreaming of an army of sons and daughters, children with her pale hair and his dark eyes, warriors with Highland spirit and Lowland ingenuity.

  Indeed, she slept so soundly that she only half stirred when she heard Isabel gasp. The lass was standing at the window by the light of midday, staring out across the hills. Suddenly her face dissolved in dismay, and she fled the room in a flurry.

  Accustomed to her sister’s penchant for drama, Hallie closed her eyes again, sure Isabel was panicking over something harmless. Perhaps a hound was pestering one of her kittens in the courtyard. Or maybe her friends were setting off on a fishing excursion without her.

  If it turned out to be anything serious, Rauve would come knocking at the door.

  Chapter 27

  There was a frantic rapping at the door.

  “Come,” Colban called out from the bed before he was fully awake. He was surprised to see the day was half gone.

  Thankfully, he had enough presence of mind to cover himself with a wad of bath linens when Isabel came bursting into the room.

  “You have to go!” she said, her eyes as round as coins. “Now!”

  “Go where?”

  “Away!”

  The word hit him in the gut like the butt end of a claymore. Of course he had to go away. He should have realized what had happened last night was too good to be true.

  “Hurry!” she pleaded. “Get dressed!”

  He sighed, then made a circling motion with his finger, indicating she should turn her back. She did.

  “They’ll be here any moment,” she said over her shoulder. “We have to hide you.”

  Hide him? He was no coward. Whatever punishment a bastard was due for swiving the daughter of Rivenloch, he wasn’t about to run away from it.

  “I don’t hide,” he told her.

  “Not even for Hallie?”

  “’Tis naught to do with Hallie.”

  “’Tis everything to do with Hallie. You have to protect her.”

  “Protect her from what?”

  “From my parents.”

  “Your parents?” he said, stabbing his arms into his leine. “They’ve returned?”

  “Aye, and they mustn’t find out about your marriage. Not yet. Not until Hallie can speak to them.”

  “How did ye know…” He frowned as he struggled into his trews. Had Hallie told Isabel about their marriage? Did that mean she wasn’t sending him away after all? Did she still wish to wed him?

  Like balm on a cut, hope soothed the sting of rejection.

  But if Hallie had already told Isabel of their upcoming nuptials, how long would it be before the entire clan knew? Telling Isabel a secret was like touching a brand to a field of dry barley.

  If Hallie’s parents were here, there was no time to lose. He had to vacate the laird’s bedchamber, make himself presentable, and let Hallie handle the diplomatic details of explaining the circumstances.

  He picked up his boots in one hand and raked his hair into order with the other.

  “Where shall I go?”

  Isabel frantically straightened the bed linens. “Our bedchamber,” she said. “’Twill be safe enough for the moment.”

  “What about the bath?” He nodded to the tub full of water that had gone cold.

  There was no way to empty it quickly.

  “You go on. Tell Hallie our parents have arrived. I’ll take care of the bath.”

  He hesitated, wondering if the determined lass might try to carry the thing to the garderobe to empty it herself.

  “Go!” she urged.

  As he snagged his crutch and limped to the door, he heard a splash behind him. Isabel had plopped herself into the bath, clothes and all. She sat shivering in the water with a forced flippancy, as if taking a cold bath in her leine was something she did all the time.

  Shaking his head, he stole out one bedchamber door and into the next, where he was surprised to see Hallie dozing in unsuspecting bliss.

  He closed the door softly behind him.

  “Hallie,” he whispered.

  There was no reply.

  He took two steps forward and tried again. “Hallie.”

  Still there was no answer.

  He crept to the foot of the bed. Not wishing to alarm her, he gently placed his hand atop her blanketed thigh. And almost lost his head.

  She sprang up as fast as a jack-in-the-box. She had a dagger in her hand—from where, he had no idea—and murder in her eyes.

  Thankfully, she was half asleep, and he was wide awake. He instinctively yanked his head back and took a swipe at her wrist, dislodging the dagger and sending it flying across the room, where it skidded across on the floor.

  “Colban!” she demanded, her shoulders relaxing. “What are you doing here?”

  For an instant, he couldn’t answer, stunned by her transformation from sleeping maid to murderous warrior and back to drowsy angel. The idea that he might actually wake up beside this lovely vision every day was hard to believe.

  “Isabel sent me.”

  She cast a quick glance around the chamber. “Where is Isabel?”

  “She’s safe. She’s in the laird’s bedchamber. She told me to tell ye your parents are here.”

  “What? Here? Now?” Her eyes went wide. “Nay, nay, nay, nay, nay.” She leaped from the bed, opened the chest at its foot, and began rifling through the contents for something to wear.

  “Ye told Isabel about us?” he asked.

  “She…guessed,” Hallie replied, dragging out a woad blue kirtle that matched her eyes. “But she hasn’t told anyone else, has she?”

  “I don’t thin
k so. She told me to hide in your chamber.”

  “Good.” She shimmied into the kirtle. “You should be safe here.” She scoured the room and finally found her shoes beside the bed. “Oh! What about the bath?”

  “Isabel is…in it.”

  “In it?”

  He nodded.

  Her brows creased. “I suppose ’twill have to do. She’ll come up with some explanation.”

  She snapped up an ivory comb from the table beside the bed and hastily untangled her hair, then tied it back with a blue ribbon.

  “How do I look?”

  “Perfect.” He wasn’t exaggerating. He only hoped his appearance was half as decent when she introduced him to her parents.

  Hallie had trained herself not to succumb to flattery. Still, her heart fluttered at his compliment.

  Her eyes softened in a fond farewell. Then she took a calming breath, straightened, and headed toward the door. She had to concentrate on the crucial matters at hand.

  Moments later, at the front gate, she greeted her parents and their small retinue with hugs and smiles all around.

  “What news?” she asked eagerly. “What did the king decide?”

  “God’s hooks, Hallie,” her father Pagan said, clapping her on the cheek. “Let us settle in first.”

  Her mother Deirdre confided, “We’ve had a long journey.”

  “Of course.” She waved them into the courtyard. “Welcome home.”

  She studied their faces. But she could tell nothing from their comportment. Her parents, her aunts, her uncles all seemed carefully neutral about what had transpired.

  The clan gathered in the courtyard to welcome them, and Hallie called for ale and oatcakes to be brought to the travelers.

  “Where’s Jenefer?” her aunt Helena asked.

  “And Feiyan?” her aunt Miriel added.

  Hallie’s heart dropped. In her concern about what she’d arranged with Colban, she’d forgotten about her cousins being held hostage. She hoped no one in the clan would bring it up.

  “They’re…somewhere close by,” she hedged. “But tell me, how were your travels?”

 

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