by Terry Spear
When the steward retook his seat, the conversation renewed.
Malcolm said, “Thank you, milady.”
“Do not speak to me any further, Laird MacNeill.”
“Milady, had I known you were concerned about—”
She glared at him. Didn’t she just tell him not to speak to her? He was as bad as Mai. Then his words sank in. Did he now just realize why she had to leave Arundel? And if so, if he mentioned it here and now in front of God and everybody.
“I’m sorry, milady. I did not know.”
He didn’t know what? Did he know about the king’s interest in her or not? Men, there was no figuring them.
Still, a look of admiration flashed across his face, but then apprehension followed this.
Now what was he thinking? And why did she care? She had no reason to concern herself with anything this Highlander thought about her. If he’d had his way, he’d have taken her over his knee and paddled her for trying to leave the castle earlier, she reminded herself. And she, a grown woman.
She sipped from her tankard, wondering about his change of attitude. Was he behaving better in light of the king’s concern? Yes, that was it. He wouldn’t have her steward’s position, if the king didn’t wish it.
“I would be honored to accompany you and your lady-in-waiting for the rest of the eve, if it will help, milady.”
She set her tankard down. “Why?” Had he changed his mind about desiring an English bride? She scolded herself. Of course not. He wished only to find favor with the king. Mattered not to her whether the strapping warrior wanted to embrace an English lady tightly in his arms at night, cuddled together, naked under soft linens. To kiss her with those lips that curved up at the most inappropriate times. To...it mattered not to her, whatever he wished to do with some Englishwoman.
He cleared his throat. “I did not understand the reason you wished to leave here, milady. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe until we leave on the morrow.”
He did understand that she feared the king’s interest in her. “Aye, milaird. I shall take you up on your offer. Nay one will think twice about it anyway.”
His dark brows rose. “Meaning?”
“You are no’ the type I would find appealing. So nay one should get any ideas that might start tongues a’wagging.”
Malcolm sat taller. What did she mean by that? He had seen the way her green eyes gazed at him and more than once had swept over the whole of him. She could not convince him she was not interested in a Highlander, sturdier-built than most of the Normans he had seen.
If Malcolm had truly displeased her, she would not have stood up for him in front of the Norman laird. She could pretend not to feel something for Malcolm, but he suspected she had a soft spot for a Highlander over that of a Norman. And when he offered to protect her against the king’s amorous advances, she did not dismiss his proposal, but instead accepted without a hint of objection. She would not spend another moment in Malcolm’s company, if she did not choose it.
No, the lass was truly intrigued with him. He knew it from the way her heart beat faster when she met his gaze, and her cheeks reddened whenever he caught her considering his physique. ‘Twas a shame he had to marry an Englishwoman. He doubted any would have the same temper that fired his blood like Anice did.
No, he did not need the aggravation. The lady was best left to a Norman’s care. God save him. So why did this thought force him to clench his fists?
He studied the smile that settled on her lips while she fingered her bird. Should he counter her words?
‘Twas tempting.
He should not allow the lass to get away with saying what she had, knowing full well she spoke not a wee bit of truth.
Angus watched him, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It would take the best part of valor to not be goaded into mincing words with the woman concerning whether she was interested in the likes of him or not.
After sipping from his tankard, Malcolm tugged at his fowl. “I was under the impression you did not desire a Norman for a husband.”
“I did not say I wouldna wish a Highland warrior for a husband, Laird MacNeill, but that you did not appeal. You, after all, dinna represent all Highlanders.”
He grinned at her, knowing she didn’t mean a word she said. But he would catch her up in her tale. “Aye. And what kind of a man would you prefer, if you do not mind saying?”
“’Tis not your concern.” She tilted her chin up in the way he was quickly becoming accustomed. Her actions meant she readied for the joust once again, her quick-tempered tongue as sharp and deadly as any lance. The only thing that concerned him was avoiding catching the king’s attention further.
The flecks of golden amber seemed to darken in her green eyes and a trace of a smile touched her lips. For an instant, he wished to press his mouth against hers, to find out how she would react to a Highlander’s kiss—not anyone’s but his—the Highlander she said she had no interest in.
Mayhap on their walk in the gardens later this eve. Then he could tell whether she truly had no feelings for him or not. After all, he’d kissed women before who were as stiff as wooden boards, but if Anice melted under his charms, he would know she spoke not a word of truth.
“Aye, milady, ‘tis true I have nay need to know. But if a gentleman approaches you who you have nay interest in, I would know this already, since you would have told me which men do not appeal. Then I would ensure the gentleman does not bother you further.”
“I see the logic in what you say, now, milaird. ‘Tis most thoughtful of you to offer such assistance. The gentleman in question would have to be...younger, like your brother.”
Malcolm frowned. The woman could not be speaking the truth. ‘Twas him that her eyes devoured, not his younger brother.
She smiled.
His physical reaction had already signaled his defeat in the first round of the joust. “Younger. And the reason for this?” he asked, hoping to have another means of attack to force the truth from the foxy lass.
She raised a brow. “A younger man is quicker to please his lady suitor.”
She had him there. Again, he frowned, though if he’d thought the matter over first, he’d have watched his reaction, otherwise he confirmed the lady won another round.
In the case of his brother, she guessed right. He would do anything to please a lady because of his youth.
“Aye, but there is something to a man who has had more time to learn the finer aspects of what appeals to a woman, do not you agree, milady?”
Her cheeks turned scarlet. Yes, she got his point.
“If you mean an older man has been with...with hoards of women and...and...” She folded her arms.
That did not go over well.
He cleared his throat, trying to think of another point that would pull him out of the deepening trench he’d slipped into. Though he did well in the jousts, he couldn’t seem to match the lady’s tactics.
Angus chuckled, heating Malcolm’s blood. He had no intention of allowing the lady to say she’d prefer his younger brother to him. Somehow, he had to secure the truth from her. “Nay, I meant to say a man would know more how to woo a lady.” It wasn’t what he’d had on his mind, but mayhap it sounded better to a lady’s delicate sensibilities.
“I see. Well, when you put it that way...”
He smiled when he won the point.
“Pray tell, milaird, how would you woo a lady in such a manner that compared to that of a younger gentleman, such as your brother, you would win her hand more quickly?”
He was back in the trenches.
Then he thought of his earlier actions that day. Did the lady know he had carried her to her bedchambers in such a heroic manner? Certainly, his brother would not have done such a thing for fear his actions would have been frowned upon by the king and courtiers.
“You seek an example, milady?” he asked. He would win the battle this time.
“Aye, that I do.”
�
��Earlier this day—”
She narrowed her eyes.
He would not be dissuaded from making his point. “Earlier when I had upset you so—”
“I have told you already, Laird MacNeill, that it was not your telling me, but the fact that I had not known.”
“Aye, but ‘twas my folly to bring it up during the meal when I had nay right.”
She nodded. “Continue.”
“When you fainted, servants immediately came to your aid, but I could not allow them to attend to you.”
“Why not, milaird? It would have been perfectly acceptable.”
“Aye, milady. Had I been Angus, I wouldna have made the effort to carry you to your chamber. Not because he did not care...he was as much aghast at the situation as was I. But being a younger man, he wouldna have gone against what most consider proper protocol. I had upset you, and I wished to make amends. I had hoped you would come to while I was still in your chamber so I could then apologize. But you would not wake, and your lady-in-waiting warned me away, threatening to call the guards even.”
Anice’s mouth turned up.
Again, the desire to kiss her crossed his mind. He could not imagine her stiffening in his embrace. In fact, soft curves and the hint of lavender would be his to hold, and he knew she’d succumb to his charms.
The thought occurred to him, if she had been well supervised, she might never have felt a man’s lips touch hers. He smiled. The notion he would be the first pleased him.
She fingered her tankard. “I concede you have a point. Mayhap younger men are no’ as sure of themselves to act where they fear others might find folly. I thank you for assisting me as you did, milaird.” She bowed her head slightly.
Walking in the garden with the lady would be a pleasure. He raised his tankard for a refill.
Then she spoke again. “I must also remind you I still have nay interest in you as a prospective husband.”
“Because?” He drank his wine, dying to hear why the lady found him so objectionable, when others found him just the opposite. Scottish lasses that is. Most English ladies kept their distance.
She squirmed slightly on the bench. Mayhap she did not have a good reply because she spoke not the truth?
The king and his queen rose. The meal ended. Time for the garden walk with torches lighting their way. And the kiss he hoped he’d bestow upon her...just to show she was not so unaffected by him as she pretended to be.
But he did not wish her to avoid his question about what made him so...unworthy of being her husband. “A walk in the gardens, Lady Anice?” He motioned to the south entrance to the hall, hoping she had not changed her mind.
“A brief one, then Mai and I will retire to ensure we can rise at the break of dawn to leave.”
“Before you break fast, milady?”
“Aye, way before.”
“As you wish.” It bothered him that the king had attempted to compromise her when she wished his attentions not. If he could have done so without gaining the king’s ire, he’d have taken the lady home this very eve. But the roads could be dangerous at night. Best they go at first light.
“I wish, milady, you had been upfront with me before. I would have—”
“I would not have discussed such a thing with a man nay relation to me.”
“Aye.” He thought this over as they stepped outside the keep with Mai following slightly behind, and Angus and Dougald wandering some distance back. No matter what, he wished to be the one to protect her, being the chivalrous Highlander he was. “Still, I beg of you, if such a thing does occur again with any gentleman who displeases you, you would allow me to speak on your behalf.”
Though he assumed the lady could take the matter in her own hands well enough. ‘Twas only the king she hadn’t the ability to say no to should he have pushed his intentions. But any other gentleman, considering she had rank of her own, would no doubt be careful not to upset her. Particularly as she was the king’s ward. Still, he wished to be the one—since she had no close living male relatives to watch out for her—to protect her while he served as her steward.
“Only say the word, milady.”
“I thank you for your offer. Though I doubt I would have need of it in my own castle, I appreciate your kind proposal.”
Yes, but what about the Norman fops the king sent her way? Would they try to kiss her as he wished to? What if she wished the Norman laird to engage her in such a business?
He could not allow it as a kinsman of hers. Mayhap not a relative, but of Scottish blood. No Norman would kiss the woman before he was wed to her.
With that firmly in mind, he puffed out his chest pleased with his decision. Then he had another thought. If she expressed interest in any Norman laird, he would show how incompetent the laird truly was. Should be an easy task. Not by deceit, of course, but he would prove to her the laird was truly not the man she’d choose to wed, like she insisted Malcolm was not.
She glanced at him as they walked in silence. She caught the silly grin on his face and returned the smile. “You seemed pleased about something. Pray tell what about?”
He nearly laughed. Would she not like to know? He shifted his thoughts to their earlier conversation. “You say you would not find me a suitable husband, milady. I still wait to hear how this is so.”
“Ah, why should it matter to you, milaird?”
“I have already told you why. You are stalling.”
Her cheeks reddened. He had her there.
She sighed heavily. “I am ready to take my leave. In the morning we depart early.”
“We will continue this conversation on the way to your castle, mayhap?”
“Mayhap.”
Yes, after she experienced a goodnight’s sleep and many hours to come up with reasons why she would not wed him. Would be well worth the wait to see what she thought up.
But what he would not have given to have a goodnight kiss. Not that he had any interest in the lass, but he wanted to prove to her before she retired to bed that she was not above wanting him. The wiggle of her soft curves, the way she licked her lips and wrung her hands, stirred his shaft into action as if he were some randy lad. ‘Twas not the way he reacted to most women, especially as coolly as the ladies of Arundel treated him. So why, when this lady espoused she was not interested in him, did his body react so interested in her?
Still, he could not just propose to kiss her without having a damned good reason. She turned and strolled back to the keep while he continued to walk beside her, trying to come up with a way to kiss her before they reached the castle doors or the prying eyes of too many of the courtiers. It would not bode well to get on the wrong side of the king again. Yet, he couldn’t shake the desire to kiss her...just to prove she did like him...to a point.
He touched her wrist and heat seared his fingertips. The lass bewitched him like no other had ever done. She stopped, faced him, and waited, green eyes full of intrigue, widened, curious.
His gaze focused on her wet, full lips again. They parted slightly. He looked up. Did she want him to kiss her as much as he wanted to? If he kissed her and she screamed out in protest, King Henry would have his head.
As if her lady-in-waiting realized what he was about to do, she cleared her throat from some distance behind.
A crimson blush rose to Anice’s cheeks, and she quickly looked down at the stone path.
Damn her lady-in-waiting. He didn’t want to wait until they arrived at Brecken Castle, and Anice began to see Norman lairds who wished her hand. He wanted her to think of the kiss they shared and remember how a Highlander had made her feel. Never again would she be able to think of a Highlander the same way.
She looked at him again, and before he could lean down and touch his lips to hers or fathom what she was about to do, she quickly kissed his mouth with a feather-light touch, then hurried away.
He stood dumbfounded, unable to will his feet to move. Her kiss was like a fairy’s, so light ‘twas almost unreal and yet it stirred h
is loins like no other woman had ever done. Pure magic, soft and sweet. Even now as he licked his lips, he was certain the taste of sweetened wine was from her mouth, not his. How he’d wished he had responded more quickly and shown her a Highland warrior’s true kiss.
Mai brushed past him in a rush to catch up to her mistress.
He folded his arms. Anice was a paradox in silk and wool, soft with curves in all of the right places. Sweet at times, sharp tongued at others. He couldn’t help but be attracted to the woman, the backbone she had to stand up to the king, the way she wished to return home to solve the problems that lay in wait for her. Too bad, he had other plans.
His brothers joined him. Dougald punched Malcolm in the arm. “Angus has told me how ye fought with the lady at the meal. Though even from where I sat in the hall, I heard her words raised in anger. Whatever say you to get her to kiss you now?”
Damned if Malcolm knew. “’Tis for me to know and you to guess the reason.”
Both his brothers groaned. But deep inside, so did Malcolm. The kiss she had bestowed so freely upon him was only the beginning. Now he had to show her what a kiss would truly feel like, once he had the chance to respond. A vixen was what she was.
He glanced up at her chamber window. She stood watching him, but quickly stepped away when she caught his eye. Chuckling, he shook his head.
“She said she did not like your type,” Angus reminded him.
“Aye, and I believed not a word of it.”
“If I did not know better, Malcolm, I would think you are pursuing the lady. But of course I know better. You wish an English bride.”
“Aye.”
Dougald took a deep breath and folded his arms across his broad chest. “’Tis why you did not respond to her kiss.” Humor tinged his all-knowing words.
“She stunned him, do you not think, Dougald? She shocked me. Never have I seen Malcolm not kiss a lady who kissed him first.”
“Either that or he was afraid of what the king might think.”
Angus grinned. “That may be true.”