by C. A. Szarek
The wag of his tail increasing speed made her decision, but before she could open her mouth to tell the duchess what she wanted, a male throat cleared. Elissa’s gaze shot to her intended.
Lord Camden smiled, and she couldn’t help but return it. “Are you sure you’re not injured, my lady?”
She nodded. Her hip smarted and her bottom was sore. However, it was nothing serious, and she wasn’t about to volunteer that information.
“I’ll call Tristan,” Lady Cera said.
“I’ve no need to inconvenience Lord Dagget. I’m well, I promise.”
Sir Alasdair, forever in her periphery, caught her eye again. His arms were behind him, making his impossibly broad shoulders look even broader. His dark blue doublet with the seal of Greenwald sewn into it did nothing to hide his defined chest, and brought out the color of his eyes. He was so handsome. His long dark hair was bound today at the back of his neck, and Elissa couldn’t help but wish it was free, swaying about his shoulders. Begging to be smoothed with her hands.
She chided herself and met the gaze of her suitor. The Duke of Dalunas was devilishly handsome, light to Sir Alasdair’s dark, with his short flaxen locks and pale blue eyes. Much lighter than the knight’s sapphire ones. She preferred Alasdair’s.
Damn it all, Elissa Elise Durroc. Stop comparing them. And by the Blessed Spirit, stop looking at him.
Sir Alasdair was her chaperone. Nothing more. He’d never be anything more to her.
“Then, shall we continue to the gardens?” Lord Camden inclined his head and offered his arm.
“Are you sure you’ve no need for Tristan?” Lady Cera’s concern was obvious.
“I’m sure.”
The wolfling at Elissa’s side wuffed and cocked his head to one side.
“Nay, lad.” Sir Alasdair spoke directly to the wolf.
Not to be deterred, Mischief fairly glued himself to Elissa’s leg. Tromping on the bottom of her gown.
Lady Cera uttered an un-duchess-like curse and muttered the wolf’s name, one hand to her forehead. Her embarrassment shone brightly, but Elissa wasn’t upset in the least.
She tried not to grin, then couldn’t help it. Mischief was making Elissa’s wishes known, in his own way.
Could he want me for a bondmate?
Triumph—and a little shock that it could be that easy—rolled over Elissa, but when her gaze rested on Sir Alasdair, his eyes were dancing. She cleared her throat and glanced at the duchess. “Lady Cera, what if… Mischief and I were to bond?”
Lady Cera blinked. Then a slow smile spread across her full mouth, working its way into a lopsided grin, full of—well, mischief. “I would adore that. And from the looks of things, so would Mischief.”
Her heart pounded, but a sense of rightness washed over her. Elissa lowered her hand. The wolf didn’t hesitate to push into her touch.
“Lady Elissa—” Lord Camden said.
“Would it bother you if I had a bondmate, my lord?” She should’ve been mortified to interrupt a duke, but she had to press.
His answer might determine hers to his suit. She’d enjoyed the time they’d spent together, aye, but if Lord Camden wouldn’t consider Mischief…
Everyone froze, but Mischief wagged his tail, as if he’d understood her question.
She’d had magic all her life, but she’d never considered a bondmate. It wasn’t widely accepted as very ladylike. Certainly not for a duchess, despite the one before her that was bonded to a wolf.
And if she married Lord Cam, she would be the instant Duchess of Dalunas.
The duke looked at the cub, then back at Elissa. He cocked his head to one side as the young beast had before. “I suppose ‘twould be all right, if he doesn’t growl at me.”
Elissa grinned.
Lady Cera blew out a breath.
Sir Alasdair narrowed his eyes at the duke, but when he looked at Elissa, the knight schooled his expression. “Lass, bonding is nothing to be taken lightly.” It was the first time he’d spoken directly to her in days, other than polite greetings.
Lord Camden shot the knight a look—no doubt for his casual address.
Elissa ignored them both and looked at Lady Cera. “I feel as if Mischief has chosen me. Here.” She pressed her hand over her heart. “Is that possible, my lady?”
Dark red curls shifted with Lady Cera’s nod. “Aye. Was the way with his sire for me. Trikser chose me.” Her expression was thoughtful. “Perhaps that was why I failed to match him. He was waiting for you.”
Pleasure melted over her and Elissa smiled. “I love it.” She looked down at her soon-to-be-bondmate, then squatted in front of him, despite the definite unladylike posture and her already disturbed gown. She ignored the twitch of protest from her hip.
Mischief sat as if commanded, his tail swishing back and forth as she cupped his muzzle.
“Do you want to bond with me?” Elissa whispered.
He wuffed and licked her cheek.
Lady Cera laughed. “I would consider that an aye.”
“As would I,” Sir Alasdair said.
Yet again, the knight drew her gaze. Elissa swallowed.
Now he’s pleased with me?
Her stomach dipped.
She hated that she was so drawn to him. The tremor that always shot down her spine when their gazes collided. The way her heart sped up when he smiled. The way her stomach flipped and her skin tingled if their hands brushed. Or the way her body warmed when he’d guided her with a big hand to the small of her back, though he hadn’t touched her like that since they’d kissed.
Elissa straightened and forced her eyes away for the hundredth time that morning. She was supposed to be spending time with Lord Cam.
Getting to know Lord Cam.
She fought the urge to close her eyes when guilt assaulted her. She wasn’t supposed to be attracted to her chaperone. She was supposed to be attracted to the duke who’d traveled a fortnight to meet her.
“My lady?” Lord Camden’s baritone dragged her from her tortured thoughts—thank the Blessed Spirit.
“Aye, my lord?” She stood, but didn’t take her hand off the wolfling.
The duke stepped closer and cupped her face.
Mischief tensed under Elissa’s touch, but didn’t growl. Nor did he move from her side. If anything, he leaned in to her harder. His body’s warmth seeped through the fine fabric of her gown right above her knee.
Lord Cam’s pale eyes bored into her hers. “This is something you want?”
“Aye, my lord.”
“Cam,” he chided gently, a smile playing at his lips. “If bonding is something you want, then you shall have it.” He nodded at Lady Cera.
The duchess clapped, grinning even wider than before. “Excellent! I’ll have to speak to Lucan to make sure he knows what’s required. So, let’s say, after first meal tomorrow?”
Elissa’s heart fluttered.
Her suitor studied her for one last moment, then nodded. He leaned forward and brushed a kiss onto her forehead.
Mischief snarled.
Lady Cera and Elissa chided him at the same time.
Lord Cam’s expression was sheepish when Elissa glanced at him, but she had no objection to the chaste touch of his mouth.
It hadn’t warmed her or given her the spark of attraction she longed for as far he was concerned, but it hadn’t been unpleasant. She offered him a smile while she scratched her wolfling behind one ear.
Mischief groaned and pushed further into her.
“After you’re bonded, he’ll mind you. Thank the Blessed Spirit.” Lady Cera’s generous bosom heaved as she blew out a breath. “He seems to have already started, and for that, I’m grateful.” Her relief was palpable.
Elissa grinned, at the duchess, then at her soon-to-be-bondmate. “Morag will be relieved.”
Lady Cera beamed back, but her cheeks were again crimson. “I was starting to think Ansley might be right, and I’d need a new headwoman.”
Sir Alasdair
chuckled, the deep sound drawing Elissa’s eye to him. Again.
She swallowed and forced her eyes on the duchess. “I’m glad to have helped avert that tragedy.”
Lady Cera laughed, as did the knight. Even Lord Cam joined in.
Joy bubbled up from her tummy, and Elissa felt lighter than she had in days. Perhaps she could even endure another turn in the gardens.
* * * *
“Where is Sir Alasdair?” Elissa looked up into the duke’s face.
Lord Cam was so handsome. His hair—like his eyes—couldn’t be more opposite than her chaperone, lying on top of his head in groomed golden layers. It was short, stopping at the back of his neck, and not reaching his ears on the sides.
The way he carried himself didn’t scream warrior like her knight, but it did shout noble.
However, he wasn’t shallow. He was genuine. Which made the awful comparisons she couldn’t help even worse. Settled her with more guilt, too, because comparing them wasn’t fair to either man.
Did she want to spend the rest of her life with the Duke of Dalunas?
Lord Cam smiled and lifted her hand to his lips. “I’m sure he’s not far behind us.”
“He’s probably bored out of his mind, following me—us—everywhere.”
Mischief hadn’t left her side since knocking her over in the corridor that morning. However, Trikser had halted the silver wolfing’s exit after evening meal before they were out of the great hall. With a wuff, the cub had shot away from Elissa at the beckoning, without so much as a glance over his shoulder.
Lady Cera had explained the pack was gathering to hunt.
Elissa wasn’t saddened—much. They’d be bonded on the morrow, then he’d be hers truly.
“I doubt spending time with you is a trial for him, even in the role of chaperone,” Lord Cam said.
She paused. Did the duke mean something by that?
No. He couldn’t have.
Lord Cam kissed her knuckles and winked.
Elissa laughed and hoped it didn’t sound like the nervous titter she suspected. She allowed the small intimacy from her suitor. He was charming, and in a way, sweet. But not a lad, like Lord Avery. The Duke of Dalunas was all man. And the look in his eyes told her he wanted her.
His desire for her did nothing to her. Still. No matter how much she craved the opposite.
After addressing her regarding Mischief, Sir Alasdair had resumed his distance. Their kiss had been over a sevenday ago now, yet his harshness had no end.
As if the whole thing had been her fault.
She hadn’t done anything wrong. Didn’t regret what they’d shared—even if he did.
Her first kiss had been perfect.
Stop it.
“I’m sure he’d rather be fighting. Or at least training.” The words were automatic. She had to say something, after all.
“Sir Alas is a good man. I’ve known him for some time.”
She nodded for the duke’s benefit and ignored how her heart sped up. Elissa didn’t disagree with Lord Cam, even with how things were currently between her and the knight.
“My lady?”
“Aye, my lord?” She made herself meet his pale blue eyes.
Lord Cam smiled and cupped her cheek. Elissa tried not to jump.
“I’ve enjoyed our time together.”
“Aye, so have I.” Not a lie, but the look on his face made her shift from foot to foot.
“If it’s not too bold of me to say, I’ve become very fond of you, Elissa.”
“I’m fond of you, too, Lord Cam.” The response was out of her mouth before she could stop it. It was true, though, wasn’t it?
Not in the way he means.
She chided herself and maintained their eye-contact. Elissa didn’t have to try with him. He was funny. Kind. Regal. Not messy, like Sir Alasdair. Didn’t make her feel like a wreck inside and out.
That’s good, isn’t it?
The smile he presented was genuine and wide. “I’m so glad to hear you say that.”
Elissa told herself to relax. There was tenderness in his eyes. He meant her no harm.
“May I kiss you, Elissa?”
She blinked. Her gut told her to refuse him. Lord Cam would respect her answer. She knew it in her heart. Elissa might not feel passion for him, but didn’t want to hurt his feelings, either.
The man wanted to marry her. That wasn’t a secret—to either of them. Shouldn’t she want to kiss him?
Lord Cam took a step toward her, even though she’d yet to answer him. His eyes darkened a little. The heat in his pale blue orbs still did nothing to rouse her. Her cheeks didn’t warm, her body didn’t overheat. Not like when—
Sir Alasdair didn’t want her. There was nothing there for her. No matter how much she desired him.
He wasn’t one of her suitors, at any rate. Shouldn’t be on the list of men she was considering marrying.
Definitely shouldn’t be the only one she’d pictured as husband.
Foolish lass.
Elissa smiled and sucked in a breath she hoped the duke wouldn’t notice. “Aye, my lord. You may.”
“I need to make one thing clear, my lady.” Lord Cam brushed two fingers down her cheek.
Her heart skipped. “Aye?”
“I am presenting my suit.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“Nay. Don’t mistake me. What I mean is, I want the other suitors eliminated from your consideration.”
“My lord—”
Lord Cam’s gaze softened. “Don’t be alarmed, Elissa. You and I will take things as slowly as you want. As slowly as you need. I just want to make things clear. I don’t want to compete with another for your heart.”
Sir Alasdair’s blue eyes flashed into her mind and she bit her bottom lip. “All right.”
The assertive side of him was new, and Elissa understood now why her knight had called Lord Cam cunning, even in jest. However, she didn’t sense malice. He was a good man. The duke was just making plain what he wanted.
Me. He wants me.
Elissa’s heart rebounded off her ribs. She didn’t know what—how—to feel. Her other suitors had been polite. Handsome and reserved. None of them had asked to kiss her.
She’d been foolish to fantasize about Sir Alasdair Kearney. It didn’t matter that their ranks wouldn’t keep them from being together.
He didn’t want her.
Lord Cam did.
“You’ll tell Lord Aldern you reject the other suits, so he can get word to the king?” Lord Cam asked.
“Aye.”
His eyes lit up and her stomach churned. Lord Cam was genuinely interested in her. He’d said he cared for her. “Cam, Elissa. Please call me Cam.”
He’d asked a hundred times. She’d never acquiesced. If they moved forward, if they married—Elissa swallowed a gulp—he would care for her. Perhaps love her one day.
What if she couldn’t love him? Would his love be enough?
The king had said he wouldn’t force her into a marriage without love. What if the love was one-sided?
For some reason, she wanted to cry.
“Elissa?”
She forced a shaky smile. “Aye?”
“About that kiss…” Lord Cam pulled her to him and warm lips settled over hers.
Chapter Twenty-two
He rounded the corner and his heart stopped.
Lord Camden Malloch was kissing Lady Elissa.
Kissing my lass.
Alasdair’s hand shot to the hilt of his sword; he jolted when he realized he what he was about to do. He couldn’t pull his weapon on the Duke of Dalunas. He flexed his fingers on the grip and took a breath, forcing himself to calm. Had no other choice. Whether he liked it or not, the duke wasn’t doing anything wrong. It didn’t appear that the man was touching Lady Elissa against her will, either.
His gut twisted.
They hadn’t noticed him yet.
Lord Cam had his arms around her, but his hold was loose. N
othing like when Alasdair had held her, kissed her.
The couple broke apart and the duke bowed deeply to Lady Elissa. “Until the morn, Elissa. I had a lovely day, and an even lovelier evening. Thank you.”
She smiled and touched her cheek like she always did when she was nervous. Maybe she hadn’t enjoyed the duke’s mouth on hers.
She better have hated it.
He was so mired in jealousy and rage, Alasdair didn’t bother trying to convince himself she wasn’t his like he normally did. Nothing he could chide himself with or repeat would get the unwanted vision of Lady Elissa in Lord Cam’s arms out of his head.
It’s wrong. She’s mine.
“Good evening, my lord. My lady.” He projected louder than necessary as he closed the distance between them.
Lady Elissa jumped. The duke did not.
“Hello, Alas.” The bastard had the nerve to smile as Alasdair approached. “Something wrong?” Lord Cam’s fair brow furrowed.
Alasdair forced a tense smile. “Nay, my lord. All is well with you?” He glanced at Lady Elissa when the duke nodded. She wouldn’t meet his eyes.
He studied her. The lass’s lips weren’t swollen, moist, or infused with red like they’d been when he’d kissed her. Nor was her beautiful face flushed.
Good.
Alasdair remembered how she’d clung to him. How she’d kissed him back. She’d tentatively touched her tongue to his at first, then rubbed, exploring his mouth with more courage, kissing him deeply, as fervently as he’d kissed her. He’d plastered her to his chest. His cock had been so hard he’d ached.
Lady Elissa still wouldn’t look at him.
Was that guilt in her expression?
He narrowed his eyes, watching her. Conscious that he wasn’t acknowledging the duke at all.
It should bother him—or worry him—that Lord Cam might notice Alasdair’s interest in his potential betrothed. But it didn’t. Hell, half of him wanted to grab her up right then and kiss her properly. Show the duke she belonged to him.
You’re a fool.
Alasdair didn’t care about that, either.