She shrugged, and he closed in on her, trapping her between the wall and the heat of his body. He placed his hands on either side of her, effectively blocking her way out, and then leaned forward so their noses were almost touching.
Brianagh imagined that, to an outside observer, they looked like lovers.
“You will eventually tell me all your secrets, Lady MacWilliam.”
Instinctively, Bri shot back, “I will not.”
His eyes burned into hers, their intensity so overwhelming that Brianagh almost closed her eyes in response but held fast and stared back mutinously.
“You will tell me,” he said evenly, in a low voice that reverberated in her chest, “not because I demand it, but because you want to.” His lips found hers, and she recognized it as a kind of branding. She wanted to refuse him, but her traitorous body leapt to life and responded in spite of her resolve.
Nioclas could make her want to tell him all her secrets and probably those of everyone she knew. She was in serious trouble, and he knew it.
Damn him to hell.
Chapter 15
“That was…” Nioclas said, trying to find the right words for the dinner he’d just consumed. The delicately roasted chicken and vegetable soup had the entire garrison humming in satisfaction.
“Delicious?” Brianagh asked, trying unsuccessfully to hide her triumph. Ever since Keela had been installed in the kitchens the day before, the food had been so good people had been coming up to her all day to comment on it. Bri sent all compliments Keela’s way and let the new cook bask in the glow of her own success.
Nioclas held up his rock-free bread. “I don’t understand how you knew to choose that woman.” He took a bite, then shrugged. “But I must admit, I’m grateful you did.”
Bri couldn’t help the grin that burst out. “I simply listened to what your clansmen—”
“Our clansmen,” he reminded her.
“—our clansmen had to say.” Brianagh took a sip of her wine. “The women in this clan know just about everything that goes on in the village, whether they live there or in the castle. The information they have is invaluable to me.” Swirling the drink in her cup, she asked, “Where does this wine come from? It’s really good.”
“Perhaps you’d care to see the cellars,” Nioclas offered nonchalantly, wondering what she’d meant. Perhaps she’d been told Ireland was a rough land with rougher drink? He’d find out eventually; he always did.
“You have cellars?”
“Aye, we do.” He stood and held out his hand, which she took after a moment’s hesitation. “It’s a well-kept secret that we trade with those from the continent.”
“Really?” Bri asked, eyes wide. She’d never thought about trade before. She got the impression the MacWilliams were an isolated bunch, content to live with whatever the land gave them.
Bri didn’t realize she’d spoken her thoughts out loud until Nioclas replied. “I don’t know why you’d think that. We are on the sea, and this is a very important trade route. Spanish, French, even the Italians dock their ships at this port. We offer them our goods in return.”
“What kind of goods?”
Out of the great hall, Nioclas led her down a hallway, then pulled a wooden door open and grabbed a torch from the wall sconce. He led her down the steps, and the air grew damper and colder as they descended. They didn’t go far, but when she reached the bottom of the stairs, she sucked in a breath.
Boxes upon boxes of wine were stacked against the stone walls. The front of the boxes were removed so the bottles were visible. All were labeled with different names. She’d never seen so many varieties. While not a knowledgeable wine drinker by any stretch of the imagination, she immediately realized why she hadn’t had any troubles drinking here.
She was standing in a wine room that held more fine wine than any restaurant she’d ever seen.
“Everything is organized first by my personal preference, then by age, then type,” Nioclas said quietly. The torchlight danced in his hair, drawing Brianagh’s eye. She froze as she realized how close he’d come to her while she was studying the wine. “Very few people know about this.”
Looking up into his fathomless eyes, she swallowed. She could feel that pull again—the air crackled with heat as his gaze bore into hers.
“They give us the best because we give them Ireland’s best.”
“What’s Ireland’s best?” she half-whispered, licking her lips.
He lowered his lips so they were a fraction of an inch away from her own. “It depends to whom you speak,” he said in a low voice, his eyes still searching hers. “For the MacWilliams, Ireland’s best used to be our wool and linen.”
“And what is it now?” Her heart thudded madly in her chest.
“Now,” he replied, blinking slowly, “it’s the lady of my castle.”
Brianagh’s eyes widened in surprise, then fluttered closed as he joined his lips to hers in the barest of kisses. She couldn’t hear over the thunder in her ears, and when he deepened the kiss, she was lost.
• • •
Brianagh stabbed her needle into the pillow, glaring at the brightly colored thread, and it landed nowhere near where she intended. “What is his game?”
Reilly was carefully sharpening his sword at one of the tables in the great hall, and she was attempting some needlework. Erin suggested she practice her sewing on a pillow rather than clothing because, as she put it, “It’s less expensive to reuse the same pillow than to buy the entire garrison new tunics.”
Bri had conceded the point.
“I believe his goal is to ensure the good folks of this clan believe the two of you to be in love,” Reilly replied, holding his sword into the shaft of sunlight. It glinted satisfactorily. “Wasn’t that the point of your little bargain?”
“Yes.” Bri sulked. “But he kisses me like he means it.”
“You said yourself that it’s a game,” Reilly said languidly, slanting her a look. “Don’t tell me you’re falling for him.”
“No!” Brianagh exclaimed. “Definitely not! It’s just that when I agreed to this, I didn’t think it would require kissing.”
Reilly placed the blade on the table and gave it a loving pat. “Oh, Bri, come on. Use your brain a bit here. You ran a matchmaking business. How many of the couples you successfully matched didn’t so much as kiss in public?” At her consternation, he said, “You can tell when people are in love and when they’re not. It’s one of a woman’s best intuitions.”
She let out a gusty sigh. “Yeah…I didn’t think about that.”
“I wonder why?” he mused as he took the pillow from her. “Oh my God, this is awful.”
“Oh, shut it,” she snapped, grabbing it back. “See? I’m not meant to stay here.”
“Why? Because you can’t sew a stitch?” Reilly guffawed. “Please. I know you better than that. Tell me, who are you thinking of setting up?”
She shook her head loftily. “No one.”
“Really?” Reilly gave her an assessing look. “No one here is giving off the lonely vibe? That seems highly unlikely.”
“Well, the new cook, Keela…”
“Aha! What’s her story?”
“She’s been living in the village, caring for her elderly mother. She’s quite young and very pretty and can do great things with the food.”
Reilly nodded. “Trust me when I say, a person with her skills in the kitchen is almost unheard of in these times. She’s a keeper, so don’t let another clan try to steal her away.”
“Noted. And she is wonderful. But she has never thought of herself as anything other than her mother’s caretaker. But now that she’s at the castle, and with my realignment of resources available to help with her mom—”
Reilly’s laugh made her stop short. “Oh, Bri, I knew you wouldn’t be content to sit around and ruin poor, unsuspecting warriors’ shirts all day!”
“They told you?” she asked glumly, looking at the mess that was her pillow.
“Let’s just say I was warned by about a hundred or so men. But look. You’ve already come up with a plan for this place, haven’t you?”
She remained mute.
“Brianagh MacWilliam. I knew you had it in you,” Reilly said, applauding her.
She started at the use of her married name, then sniffed and stabbed the pillow again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Let me guess. You’ve been here now for a week and some. In that time, you’ve created a business plan for the castle to run more efficiently and are thinking of potential matches for your new cook.”
“I hate you,” she muttered.
Reilly burst into laughter. “I know you better than you know yourself,” he crowed. “Go on. Admit it.”
“Never.”
“Never say never,” Reilly said gleefully. “I love this. I truly do. At some point, you will thank me for bringing you here.”
“Because it’ll sharpen my business focus when I return,” Brianagh replied firmly. “Make me appreciate what I have more than ever.”
“Sure.” He chuckled. “If that’s going to help you sleep at night, you tell yourself that.”
• • •
Brianagh promised herself she was going to draw Reilly’s sword from his side and run him through with it. And she’d kick him in the shin for good measure.
“Although she hasn’t found the right one yet, you just watch. There will be a wedding soon,” Reilly was saying, an unholy light of mischief in his eyes. They sat at supper, Reilly to her right and Nioclas to her left, leaving her in the middle of two men keen on discussing her matchmaking abilities.
“You are an ass,” she hissed at Reilly.
“I’ll agree with that,” Nioclas said, “but I still want you to promise that if you find her a suitable mate, she won’t leave this castle.” As the serving women refilled their platter with another helping of beef, he added, “Ever.”
“I don’t have anyone in mind for her!” Brianagh exclaimed.
“Pfft,” Reilly replied, adding more meat to his trencher. “You always have a plan.”
“Always?” Nioclas asked.
“I think she’d be great for Aidan,” Erin piped up from a bit farther down the table, causing Aidan to choke on his wine.
“Absolutely not,” Aidan replied firmly. “She’s a maiden. I don’t want anything to do with a maiden. I’m not looking for a wife.”
Donovan laughed into his cup but didn’t say anything at Aidan’s dark look.
“I’m certain that statement will turn around on you,” Erin replied sweetly. “Fate is, after all, a woman. An experienced woman.”
Brianagh snorted and tried to smother her laugh.
“Perhaps Brian? He’s usually up on the battlements during the wee hours of the morning,” Erin suggested. “At least, he used to be.”
“He still is,” Nioclas confirmed.
“He might be a bit rough for our sweet cook,” Aidan replied thoughtfully.
“Our sweet cook?” Brianagh snorted. “How do you know she’s sweet?”
Aidan spread his hands across the table. “She has to be sweet. All angels are, and this food is certainly sent from above.”
“Here,” Reilly said, holding out a small dirk, hilt-first, to Aidan.
“What’s this?” He raised a brow.
“It’s your manhood. I’m returning it to you in hopes that you can find a way to silence the drivel that just spouted from your lips,” Reilly replied dryly.
Erin sprayed her wine all over the table in front of her as Donovan and Nioclas leaned back and laughed, drawing stares from the rest of the clan, who crowded around various tables set throughout the great hall.
“See?” Brianagh said, leaning over Reilly to meet Aidan’s eyes. “An ass.”
Aidan nodded in agreement.
“I wonder if you could do it,” Reilly mused aloud.
“Do what?” Erin asked.
Brianagh, however, was alarmed. The look on Reilly’s face was a cross between thoughtful and sly, and Bri’s experience with it told her she should not, under any circumstances, agree to whatever Reilly said next.
“Match the cook.”
“Reilly,” Brianagh said, a warning note in her voice.
“I wager she can’t,” Reilly said with a nod. “She did a fair job of it before, but she’s in new territory now.”
“I think she could,” Erin replied. “She’s changed things in here, and I, for one, believe this castle is already better off for it.” She, Aidan, and Donovan began discussing what the wager terms would be, as Brianagh vehemently shook her head.
“Let’s not wager,” Brianagh suggested helplessly.
No one listened. They simply continued the discussion around her as if she wasn’t sitting at the table with them. She glanced around the great hall, but no one was paying any attention to them. Brianagh fervently hoped the men had too much to drink to remember the discussion.
“I believe you could do it,” Nioclas murmured into her ear. She blinked at him, and he smiled slyly. “Perhaps, if we work together, we could win it all. And your Keela could have a nice wedding—’tis high time she married, after all.”
“Nioclas, this is a woman’s love life they want to wager on,” Bri replied, shaking her head. “Matching someone simply to win a bet is cruel.”
“But matching someone simply to see them happy?” he replied seriously. “In truth, the Irish do not tease about love. We believe, among all else, that a soul is only half of itself. When you find love, the two halves make each person whole.”
She gaped at him. Romantic Nioclas? She didn’t know what to say, but felt everything below her waist clench and everything about her neck flame. Surreptitiously, she fanned herself. It was rather hot in the great hall all of a sudden.
He smiled lazily at her, then went back to his meal.
“I’ll do it,” she said suddenly, turning to the others. “I’ll find Keela her other half.”
“I’ll help,” Erin volunteered.
I’ll need it, Bri thought, sneaking a glance at Nioclas.
She missed the self-satisfied smile that crossed Reilly’s features.
Chapter 16
Brianagh was ready. She’d felt the small thrill of excitement course through her once her mind was made up, and she reminded herself to slow down. The first meeting with a client was an evaluation of her commitment to the process, interest in marriage and partnership, and what she expected out of the matchmaker. Bri felt she could accomplish all that without scaring the poor girl.
Marrying for clan alliance, Brianagh had learned, was usually reserved for lairds and clan elders. But everyone else in the clan was fair game, and she was thrilled to learn Keela had only been to the castle a few times before, when the laird called the village in for battles or extreme cold, and had shown interest in the man Erin suggested at dinner a few nights ago. Due to her mother’s declining health, Keela had been a dutiful daughter and concentrated on ensuring her mother’s comfort. But now that they were both ensconced in the castle walls with a room and two servants of their own, things had become a whole lot easier for Keela to focus on herself.
That was the tack Brianagh planned to use, anyway.
Entering the kitchens, Brianagh halted when she noticed Nioclas sitting at one of the work benches, the kitchen maids all scurrying to do his bidding. She hadn’t anticipated seeing him until the evening meal, but she joined him and put her plans for the cook aside momentarily.
“What are you doing in here, my laird?” she asked. He should’ve been out training, as was the norm. In fact, she and Erin had plans for the afternoon to sneak down to the lists and ogle. It had quickly become one of her favorite pastimes.
“I’d planned to surprise you, but since you’re here…” Nioclas smiled encouragingly at her. “I thought we might picnic.”
Bri looked at him in shock. “Picnic?”
“Aye, your cousin told me about the
tradition,” he said with confidence, “and I’ve had our kitchen lasses prepare us a midday meal we can eat together.”
“A picnic.” Bri was dumbfounded. Why would Reilly encourage Nioclas to take her on a picnic? Unless… She took a sharp breath. Unless he wanted them to fall in love and was giving Nioclas pointers.
She tried to dismiss the thought, but once lodged, it wasn’t budging from her mind. Reilly was so insistent that she make a life here, when her life was so clearly set in the future…
Her eyes met Nioclas’s, and she lost her train of thought. He was so beautiful. He was not like his elders. He believed a beard to be more a hindrance in battle than a help in weather and was shaved most mornings. Today, he had the perfect amount of stubble to make her knees weaken. His eyelashes were long and dark, framing the clear, intelligent gray eyes so unlike the rest of his clan. His lips were absolutely sinful—not too lush, not too thin, as though they were made to fit over her own.
Stop! she commanded herself sternly. But she knew she couldn’t. Every woman in a five-mile radius drooled over him, with the exception of Erin, who was so blindly in love with her husband she had eyes for no one else.
“Was that an aye?” Nioclas asked softly, taking her hand.
The electricity zinged up her arm, causing her heart to beat faster, and she nodded.
“Oh,” Keela sighed, interrupting them as she placed a satchel on the table in front of Nioclas. “I do envy your happiness, my lady.”
She felt as though the floor dropped from underneath her. Hollowly, Bri nodded with a smile but realized the truth of it.
Nioclas was playing the game. This was one more move to convince his clan he loved her.
The Winter Laird Page 14