by Eliza Knight
“Kiss ye?” He stared at her lush lips, wanting more than anything to do what she asked.
“Aye. I did not entertain ye. Take your prize.”
Niall stared down at her creamy face, her wide blue eyes, and felt his body stir. She was so beautiful. So cunning. So ornery. Lord, but he wanted her. Wanted to fight to prove he could have her. To prove to her he wasn’t broken. “A kiss from ye is not a prize, but a gift.”
“Then accept your gift,” she whispered.
Accept his gift. Accept the thing he’d dreamed about for nearly a decade. Niall bent and brushed his lips over hers. At the sudden contact, she sucked in a breath through her nose, and he instinctively tried to retreat, but she leaned into him.
“This time, I’ll need ye to be my lady,” he murmured.
“And ye will be my knight,” she whispered.
Tentatively, he touched her elbow, sliding his hand down to hers, entwining her trembling fingers with his. He breathed in the heady, sweet scent of flowers and herbs. Her lips were soft, warm and pliant. Sweet.
When had he last kissed a woman? He wasn’t certain. A year or more? And the kisses he’d shared had never been as sweet or tender as this. What was it about Bella Sutherland?
He shook with restrained desire, madness even. Wanting to deepen the kiss and knowing it was too soon, Niall pulled away.
She blinked her eyes open and stared up at him. Dazed. “Will ye fight tomorrow?”
“I will, but not because your father made a marriage between us contingent upon it. Not because ye asked me to.”
Bella nodded, all seriousness as she watched him. “I know.”
“What do ye know?”
Her hands pressed to his thumping heart. “I know ye’re a warrior.”
“I was. But I am no longer.”
“Ye are still. Ye were born to it. When I first met ye, ye were the only one confident enough in your abilities to let a lass fight ye. Confident enough to let a lass name ye her lady.”
“Ye say confident. I say foolish.”
She smiled. “Just because ye’re impaired does not mean ye’re weak. If there is one thing I know about men, having grown up in a house full of them, ’tis that once a warrior, always a warrior.”
Niall grunted. “Why do ye care so much?”
Bella blinked and then flashed him a radiant smile. “Just a little encouragement.”
He shook his head. “From what I know of ye, my lady, if I had to guess, I’d say ye dinna do anything only a little.”
She laughed. “Ye flatter me, Sir Niall.” She tapped his chest. “In that case, I think we shall get along splendidly.
Chapter 7
Will ye stop rolling around? The bed will collapse if ye keep it up.”
Bella flopped her arm over her eyes, ignoring her sister Greer’s complaints. She couldn’t sleep. Aye, she had been tossing and turning since they’d blown out the candle and gone to bed a couple hours before—and with good reason. The bed felt abnormally lumpy. She was hot. She was cold. She was tired. She was wide awake. All because of what had happened in her solar.
She’d had her first kiss today. Not just any kiss. Not just any man.
Niall… She relived over and over the brush of his warm, soft lips on hers. The way his breath had been sweet with whisky and cinnamon. The way he’d smelled earthy and like fresh snow. How his sun-kissed hair had fallen over his brow, making him look virile and devilish. The slide of his mouth on hers had been a dream. Wondrous and brilliant in its heat. How was it possible that such a small gesture, something millions of people did all the time, could seem so poignant to her in that one moment? She’d never wanted to kiss before. Found it dull and sappy. And yet, if he burst into her chamber right here and now and asked if she wanted to kiss again, Bella would throw back her covers, leap to her feet and declare herself his for every kiss, any time, anywhere.
Oh, Niall…
The very man she’d been dreaming about since she was a lass. The very man she’d thought would never be hers. Somehow, perhaps even through divine intervention, he was going to be her husband, and she could kiss him every day for the rest of her life.
Until Walter had proposed to her several months before and told her Niall was to wed another, Bella had never thought about how devastating that news was. Oh, how she’d sulked the past few months. So it could be nothing short of a miracle that the stars had aligned, for here he was. And he was no longer attached, having agreed to be her husband, and he’d kissed her. Delicious and charming.
Bella flopped once more on the bed, curling into a ball and ignoring the irritated huff from her sister.
Oh, how that kiss had stirred her, still stirred her. It had made her blood burst into flames, and the embers were still burning somewhere deep in her belly. Niall’s kiss had the power to make her heart sing, had a thousand stories multiplying in her mind, and had her editing the epic kisses she’d written about in all her tragic tales. His kiss had shown her all she’d gotten wrong with kisses before, both in thought and theory.
And what was she to do with these new feelings? What was she to do with him and his kiss?
Och, but was this a romantic tale doomed to end in tragedy? Aye, didn’t they all? She was deathly afraid it might.
And not because she feared that Niall would not be able to fight in the tournament on the morrow. Quite the opposite. She was certain he would win, for she knew him to be one of the greatest warriors in Scotland. Before his accident, he could have fought any man blindfolded. She had every confidence in his ability. That wasn’t what had her concerned. What she wasn’t certain of was whether or not the gods and fey would allow her this happiness. Was it just a tease? A way to taunt her? A wretched jest to dangle what appeared to be the most perfect union. For all of her life, aye, she’d been privileged, but not in this. For all the years she’d known about what it took to be a woman, she’d known her failings in that regard. Bella would fail any husband who wished for an heir. She was barren. Knew this for a fact. How was it that she should find a man so equally afflicted?
“Bella!” Greer’s voice jolted into her thoughts. “What is going on with ye?”
Bella rolled to her other side and faced her sister in the dark. “Something’s happened. Something…unexpected, and yet utterly amazing.”
“Out with it, ye canna just say that and keep it in.” Greer’s voice bubbled with excitement. She loved gossip, especially anything that might prove to be scandalous.”
Bella smiled, shocked that their youngest sister, Blair, had not gloated to Greer that she knew a secret. There was no point holding it in, she was fairly bursting with the need to shout it out. “I am to be married.”
Greer sat straight up in bed, her shadowy form outlined by the dim light coming from the banked fire. “Married? To who, and why did ye not say something earlier? No wonder ye’ve been flopping abut like a fish out of water.”
Bella laughed, reached forward and squeezed her sister’s arm. “I canna say anything yet as father has not spoken to me formally about it. But he spoke to me last night…and he kissed me!”
“A kiss? Tell me everything. Tell me now.” Greer clapped her hands.
“’Tis a man I’ve dreamed about since I was a wee lass. A man who respects a woman with a bow, and isn’t afraid of a woman being herself.”
Greer shifted on the bed, sitting cross-legged. “Oh, Bella. I think I know of whom ye speak. The lad from the tournament, aye?”
Bella smiled in the dark. “Aye, how did ye know?”
“I might have been a wee one then, but I’d have been blind not to see it. All the clans saw. In fact, they were taking bets on when the two of ye would be betrothed.”
“Really?”
“Aye. Da got verra upset about it, saying no daughter of his would be married off at such a wee age.”
Bella laughed, wondering what her father thought now that she’d asked to marry Sir Niall, if he even remembered the tournament from all those year
s ago. She’d have to ask him.
“Well dinna lay there like a leg of mutton,” Greer shook her. “Tell me everything!”
Bella told Greer about hearing the princess berating someone, and how Niall had scoffed and told her to marry his brother instead. How the princess had attempted to humiliate him, but instead he’d sounded bored and tired of her. That his self-confidence was catching, and gave Bella boldness stronger than what she’d already possessed. “Da said he could have me if he proved himself well in the tourney, which I know he will, so I am all but officially betrothed.”
“And ye’re certain he’ll do well?” Greer’s voice dipped with uncertainty.
Bella pushed up to sitting. “Aye. The man’s built like a fortress, and he’d not have agreed to fight if he didna think he had a shot at winning.”
“But what of his arm?”
“What of it?” Bella felt herself immediately defensive. Protective.
“’Tis missing.”
Bella rolled her eyes, thinking this was a conversation she might have to have often with any number of people. “’Tis not missing, Greer. ’Twas cut off by an enemy.”
“Exactly. How’s he to fight like that?”
Bella laughed. “Ye know nothing. Have ye not listened to any of my stories?”
“What have your stories got to do with anything, especially with a man with a missing arm?”
“When a man is perceived to be less than he is, that is when he is in fact most valuable. Besides, the man has drive. There’s more life in him than any of these other dullards. I bet if we tied his other arm behind his back, he’d still be able to kick their arses.”
Greer giggled at Bella’s use of profanity. “If ye believe in him that much, I shall, too.”
“Good.” Bella hugged her sister tightly. “I want everyone cheering him on tomorrow.”
Greer nodded. “I will make certain they do.”
Even as Greer fell back asleep, Bella lay awake, staring up at the canopy that covered their shared bed. Tomorrow was going to be the first day of the rest of her life. The first day of something new and different, and soon she’d be asked to leave her home and go with Niall to his castle, and then what? A sudden dread filled. Och, but leaving home was not something she’d thought about before, and the idea of parting from her family, of not feeling Greer’s warm body sleeping beside her, had a pain stabbing miserably at her chest.
Because she and Niall would not be man and wife in truth, they wouldn’t share a bed. How would she stay warm at night and keep the sheets heated with just her own body heat?
Loneliness gripped her.
How could she leave them? And with a virtual stranger? Aye, she knew Niall, had been acquainted with him since she was a lass—but did she really know him? What was she thinking? Perhaps she should have convinced her parents to let her wait a little longer. Bella bit her lip, knowing that was impossible, and truly, if she was forced to wed anyone, Niall was by far superior.
Besides, her parents had given her an ultimatum. Choose a husband, or they’d choose one for her.
She’d chosen. And until this moment, she’d believed wholeheartedly that she’d chosen well. This was just a bit of pre-marital jitters. Aye, she’d witnessed it from her aunts and a few ladies of the clan. All brides seemed to have a moment of doubt. Perhaps when she arrived at his home, she would see the right of it.
Oh, dear heavens, she didn’t know where they’d be returning to. What was his castle, and in what part of the country? Dretch, but why had she not thought of that before now? She’d only been to a few places beyond Dunrobin.
She’d been with her father to Stirling once, and to Edinburgh as well. She visited her cousins, but those were the extent of what she knew of the Highlands. Why had she not paid better attention? What a fanciful fool she was. How could her father have let her walk this path without at least giving her some guidance?
She looked over toward her sister, about to shake Greer’s shoulder and tell her that perhaps there wasn’t cause for joy, that she needed to run. But there was no use in causing her sister undue worry. This was her problem, and one that would be easily solved. She’d simply have to ask her mother where it was she was headed and when exactly she’d be allowed to come home.
Or better yet, she could ask Niall if he minded overmuch if she simply stayed put. After all, it wasn’t as though they’d be able to consummate their marriage, given the fault with his…well, never mind, the princess had adamantly stated he could not lie with a woman, so what use was it if she returned to his castle with him? None that she could see.
Aye, that was the way this little worry of hers could be solved. Niall would be happy to have a wife, and she a husband, but that didn’t mean they had to live as such. She could remain here with her parents, and he would be free to go back to doing whatever it was he liked to do.
With that notion in mind, Bella tucked the fur blankets more tightly around herself and fell into a fretful sleep.
When daybreak was upon her, she felt a none-too-gentle shove at her shoulders from Greer and Blair.
“How is it that Blair knew about the proposal before I did?” Greer accused.
Bella rolled over and groaned. “She was spying with me.”
“Ye failed to mention that last night,” Greer said, arms crossed over her chest.
“Are ye jealous?” Blair laughed. “Jealous of little old me?”
Greer rolled her eyes petulantly. “I am not jealous.”
“Then why do ye care?” Blair said before sticking out her tongue.
Bella took her pillow and plopped it over her head so she didn’t have to listen to them argue another minute about it. The two of them could argue for hours, even coming to hair pulling and slaps if someone didn’t intervene. Bella was too tired to be that person today.
“I dinna care.”
“Then stop blubbering on about it.”
All right, maybe she did need to regulate, if only to get them to be quiet.
“Both of ye,” Bella groaned, tossing the pillow at them. “Quit your griping. We’ve a lot to accomplish this morning.”
“Aye,” Greer said, clapping her hands, the row forgotten.
Blair was already running to Bella’s wardrobe. “Ye’ll need your finest dress.”
“And your hair will need to be done just so.” Greer reached forward to tug a lock of Bella’s hair.
“And jewels. Ye’ll need to borrow Mama’s best necklace.” Blair spun in a circle after opening the wardrobe.
Bella swung her legs over the side of the bed, trying to muster energy and wishing she could somehow harvest it from her sisters. “I’ll not be needing any of that. My best dress will not keep me warm in this wintry weather, and with my hair done up, the wind will slither down my neck and freeze any of the fancy jewels ye imagine me wearing.” She stood and stretched, reaching high and feeling the kinks in the muscles of her back stretch out. Knowing the castle would be full of people, she’d trained extra hard with her bow a few days ago and still felt the ache of it in her upper back, shoulders and arms.
“Oh, ye’re not any fun,” Blair pouted, slamming the wardrobe closed.
“Aye, ye’re like a glass of sour milk,” Greer added with a look of utter distaste. “What will ye be wearing, a thick woolen gown that could double as a grain sack?”
“And your hair in an unflattering plait?” Blair mimicked Greer’s tone.
“As a matter of fact—” Bella started, but both of her sisters cut her off with shouts of disapproval.
Their mother chose that moment to enter, eyes twinkling with amusement at her two daughters standing with their hands on their hips and glowering at Bella as though she’d eaten all their sweets. “What is going on? The three of you were making enough of a ruckus that I heard you two floors down.”
“Bella wants to dress like a scullion,” Greer accused.
Lady Arbella winked at her eldest daughter before turning her attention to the two younger
ones. “Oh, aye, dress like a scullion. Now that is an idea. She’ll make a statement that I think will go far amongst the clan, do you not think it so?”
“What kind of statement,” Blair put out. “The kind that says she is not good enough to marry Sir Niall?”
Arbella gasped. “Why, Blair, since when did anyone’s self worth depend on the clothes they wore?”
Greer and Blair turned matching incredulous looks on their mother. “Since the dawn of time,” Greer said with an annoyed tone so typical of lassies her age.
Arbella giggled. “I say we should allow Bella to dress any way she wishes. It is not the clothes she wears that has drawn her match to her.”
“Then what is it?” Bella asked, wondering if Niall had mentioned something to her father after she’d fled the secret passage.
“Why, your charm, dear. Your wit. Your acceptance.”
“Hmm. Perhaps.” Bella went to the basin filled with cool water and splashed some on her face. “But I maintain he has agreed because he is in need of a wife, and one who will not bother him. Which, Mama, brings me to a question. Greer and Blair, will ye go down to the kitchens and fetch my breakfast? I’m starved.”
Her sisters glowered at her, about to argue, when their mother concurred. When the door was closed behind them, her mother spoke. “Ye know, when I was preparing to wed, my maid, Glenda, told me the oddest things that scared me half to death.”
“Like what?” Bella imagined all kinds of crazy things and was glad her own dear maid, Mary, was more sympathetic—and also a mute.
“Just how awful it would be. How messy. How—”
Bella cut her mother off there, having a very good idea where her mother was going with this conversation, and not wanting to hear a syllable more. “Never mind that, Mother, we can discuss it some other time. Closer to the time of well, me needing it.” Which she fully expected to put off indefinitely given the circumstances and the lack of bedding that would be occurring in her own marriage. Thank the fey for small favors. “I but wanted to ask your opinion on whether or not it would acceptable for me to remain at Dunrobin?”