by Ria Cantrell
Chapter Four
Bronwyn! Andrew could not get the girl out of his mind. He even liked the sound of her name. Why had she invaded his thoughts since that afternoon? He tried to push the thought of her out of his mind. He paced about, wondering what else could be done to help his friend. He felt like a trapped animal and needed to get some fresh air. He felt like his hands were tied until Rhianna arrived. So until then, he could do nothing to save his friend from suffering in the dungeons of the king. He decided a walk in the cold night air would clear his head.
Andrew sauntered out in to the moonlit garden, feeling the remnants of the winter chill seep beneath his cloak. As he breathed in the crisp air, he felt the tension of the day evaporate. He rounded a corner and stopped dead in his tracks. He heard the strains of beautiful ethereal music being played on a harp. Dear God, it was the girl! He did not want to startle her so he stood still and just listened. He wondered why her fingers were not numb with the cold, but she played seemingly unaware of it. She was a highlander after all. He remembered the Scots were used to the cold and this girl must not be an exception.
In the pale moonlight her skin looked almost luminous. She looked even more fae than before. He could no longer stand idly by. He needed to see her and speak to her. It was then that he decided to approach her. She looked up and suddenly froze.
“You play the harp,” Andrew said, stating the obvious.
It was him…that handsome man who had been with the Viking. What was he doing here? She did not want to admit even to herself how she could not stop thinking about that kind man who was with that Viking monster.
“Did ya’ no think savage Scots were capable of such things?” she answered archly.
“Lady, that is not my opinion.”
“T’was the Viking’s sure as be told.”
Andrew smiled at the mention of his “Viking” friend. He was actually surprised that she did not find Erik brutally handsome. Most women did. He was taller than most men. While Andrew considered himself tall, Erik stood nearly half a span taller even than he. Thick blonde hair framed his friend’s rugged face. He had crystal blue eyes that reflected the Northern skies and he was fiercely male and strong. But Bronwyn did not find the allure in Erik. The way she said “Viking” sounded like an aberration.
Andrew sat next to Bronwyn on the stone bench, and he smiled at her. She looked into his eyes and noticed again how kind his eyes seemed to be, even when resting on her; a dreaded “evil” Scot. She made no mistakes in underestimating this man. While he was not gruesomely enormous like his counterpart, he was big and lethal. He was near the same height as Rory, her brother, who was one of the biggest men of her clan, and before having seen the Viking, was actually one of the biggest men she knew. This one would have been considered a force to be reckoned with, and she could tell he was a trained and powerful warrior. Despite his raw masculinity, there was something gentle about him, though. She looked up into his kind eyes, and she suddenly was reminded how handsome he was. Drew wondered why blush suddenly stained her cheeks. In the moonlight, his eyes looked like a dark stormy sea. His jaw was square and his body exuded quiet strength. This man seemed understated and natural. Scots loved nature and those tied to it. She looked away, feeling suddenly shy. She stammered, “What are ye’ doing here?”
“I just needed to take some fresh air. I am pleased to stumble upon you here. I’m Andrew,” he said, extending his hand to her.
“Bronwyn…” she said putting her hand in his. He took her fingers to his lips and kissed her hand chivalrously. She felt a strange warmth tingle from her fingertips and it spread into her chest.
“I know who you are,” he said. “You are the daughter of Laird MacCollum.”
“Do you know my father?”
“No, Lady. I know of you because of Erik…the man you call the Viking. I am the captain of his elite guard.”
She looked at him with a growing expression of disdain. Andrew smiled and he said, “He is not a bad man. He is just trying to protect his wife.”
“I am trying to understand how this English king can have me marry a man who is already wed?”
“It is insane; I must admit…treasonous thought as that may be. Erik did not mean to offend you, I am sure, but you represent all that stands in the way of his happiness.”
She nodded and said, “I dunna’ want to marry that man.”
“I know, Lady, and he has no wish to marry you.”
Andrew brushed his knuckles across her cheek and he said, “You should marry the man of your own choosing, Love. Not some man who is already married, despite any royal decrees.”
Her instinct was to recoil from his touch, but strangely she felt the soothing effect of that contact. How odd that he should think a woman should choose her own mate. Most men would argue with that line of thinking. Her own father and brothers would also strongly agree. They had not wholeheartedly wanted this arranged marriage for their daughter and sister.
She remembered vividly how sad her father was when she was taken by the English Guard. She also knew that her father and brothers were going to try to stop this marriage. All of her brothers, with the exception of Rory, had married for love. Her father and mother had been in love at a young age and Caleb MacCollum had always wished his only daughter to find love that way, as well. Bronwyn was once again struck with the thought of how odd that this English knight would share that philosophy. She realized miserably that she had been a pawn in a political game. Andrew looked at her frowning lips and was again reminded how he wished to kiss them. Instead he took her hand to his lips again and kissed her fingers softly.
“Come, Lass. Let me see you back inside. It is bitter out here and you could catch your death of cold.”
Andrew removed his own cloak and draped it over her shoulders. Bronwyn was so astounded at his kindness toward her. Since arriving in this strange land, few people gave her the simplest of courtesies and here was this man, who was being considerate of her physical needs. He picked up her harp and took her hand to lead her inside. He walked her back to her chamber, not even feeling the cold himself. At her doorway, she handed him back his cloak and she said, “Thank you. Ye’ have been so kind to me.”
He smiled down into her beautiful face and he said, “T’is not hard to be kind to you.”
As he spoke those words, Bronwyn felt her heart leap. He seemed so familiar, like someone she had known for most of her life. He just made her feel relaxed and at ease when everything in her world was in complete upheaval.
“Andrew…”
“Just call me Drew, Lass.”
“Well then, Drew…Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, my lady.”
As she shut her chamber door, Drew stood there for a few moments feeling a bit unnerved. This girl was tugging at his heart, and he did not like it. Not one bit! When he heard her playing her harp, his body reacted strangely. His heart had slammed against his rib cage, and he felt another primal reaction. This was madness, he thought. Bronwyn was now betrothed to Erik…but Drew knew in his heart Erik was still married to Rhianna.
Chapter Five
Drew needed to put some distance between himself and the doorway where the girl was lodging. He made his way down to the main hall and knew he should just find a willing maid to ease the sexual tension that suddenly filled his body, lest he succumb to the strange madness of the pull to this most unwise dalliance. Besides, he had serious matters to attend to. He had no time for complicated liaisons. He had to finish his plan to help free his best friend. Remembering the plight of Erik, Drew felt his stomach churn when he thought of his friend jailed and humiliated. For now, though, there was nothing to do but wait. He was in the need of some good ale and maybe a comely, willing wench to warm his bed. That would ease the ache left from being close to the Scottish lass. He was certain that was just the remedy he needed.
A few drinks later and a pretty girl on his arm, Drew made his way to his lodging. He was not to be housed within the main
building but had his own quarters strangely granted in the lodgings across the bailey. The court was full, so he took a lesser room, but at least it was comfortable and clean, and he was not forced to lodge in the dining hall with many other guests. He looked at the tiny strawberry blonde beside him, and he had a sudden flash of Bronwyn’s face before him. He felt the lust drain right out of him. He wanted no more to bed this little thing, who seemed more than willing. By God, what was wrong with him? This petite little maid was fair and pretty with all the right curves Drew normally liked, but he had no desire in him of a sudden; well none for the girl exactly. It seemed that even thinking about the Scottish minx sent lust washing through him like a powerful current. He cursed under his breath. He needed to be with a woman, any woman, but alas, this night it was not going to happen. He kissed the girl soundly and said sheepishly, “Girl, I’ve had too much to drink. I do not think this is going to happen tonight.”
He knew it was a lie for what it was the moment it left his lips. She pouted prettily at him, playing at the practiced trick of tarts.
“A big strong knight felled by a few sips of ale…I don’t believe it. Milord, let me show you how to relax. I am certain I know what to do to help you,” she said pressing against him and kissing him with practiced seduction. That was just it. He did not want a practiced tumble. Oh, yes, she would release some of the pent up tension and if he got to it, he was certain he would find a degree of pleasure with her, but all of a sudden he wanted more. He kept seeing Bronwyn in his mind and he knew lying with her would be a far different experience than the common dalliances with these well tried girls. Why, just conjuring up Bronwyn’s image sent a rush of heat through his body. The girl kissed him again and boldly moved her hand between his thighs. Feeling the rising hardness there, she said, “There, see, you are nearly ready,” as she brazenly cupped him through his breeches.
Rather than fire him, it annoyed him. He removed her hand and said, “No, girl. This is just not going to happen. I am sorry.”
She frowned and turned away, stomping back across to the main hall, like a child who had not gotten her way. Drew cursed. What was wrong with him? He could never take Bronwyn as his lover. That just would not be wise. There was too much at stake. At the very least, he would risk further danger to Erik and Rhianna. Not to mention the wrath of the clan MacCollum to befall him. Damn the Scottish little vixen! He was not sure if he was angrier at himself or at the girl. He was not the type of man to become irrational over a woman. Why couldn’t he enjoy the company of that pretty blonde for a night and just be done with silly fancies of forbidden dalliances?
Andrew made his way into his chamber and stripped his clothes off. He flung himself down on the pallet and despite the cold which permeated the unheated room; he never got into the bed, but just lay atop it because he seemed too overheated to move inside the bed covers. He lay awake for many hours; too many thoughts racing for him to relax. When he did finally succumb to sleep, his dreams were filled with images of a Scottish lass with tawny eyes seducing and enticing him to new level of arousal.
Morning found Drew tangled in his bed-clothes, and in ill humor, which was actually out of character for him. He made his way to the main hall and sat with other men, thinking to clear his head of those irrational thoughts of the past night. He had hoped that after a little sleep, he would be able to put those dangerous thoughts and desires aside, but that was the problem. Sleep had been quite evasive, replaced instead by thoughts that heated his blood to a fevered frenzy.
He listened to the banter of the men around him, but added little. He was really feeling out of sorts. He wondered how Erik had fared the night. He hoped Rhianna would arrive soon. Court life just was not for him and the sooner Rhianna could be there, the sooner they could help Erik and leave this snake pit. Then, the sooner he could be far away from the Scottish little nymph. He could put the encounter in the past and go on with his life, unaffected as he always had before. Drew rationalized to himself that it was only the strange situation he found himself in because of Erik that made him oddly attracted to that Highland beauty.
As if his thoughts had conjured the girl, she entered the hall, under guard. Andrew felt a strange stirring in his chest upon seeing her. He was not certain, but he thought she looked like she was scanning the hall looking for someone. As her eyes rested on him, he could have sworn she brightened in seeing him.
His imagination was certainly playing tricks on his mind. She was probably looking for one of her own serving women, and he was a fool to think she was actually hoping to see him. She had a certain air of dignity even though she was obviously heavily guarded. Andrew wondered why she was suddenly flanked with two of the king’s goons. Well, if she was not looking for him, at least he could be civil and greet her. He stood and made his way across the crowded hall; meandering a path toward Bronwyn.
He bowed before her, and he took her hand to his lips, watching her guards cautiously.
“My lady,” he said. “Is all well?”
She glanced at her guards and said, “Aye, thank you.”
He saw heat flush her face. He saw the guards press closer. He addressed them saying, “Gentlemen, would you allow me the honor of breaking my fast with Lady Bronwyn?”
Bronwyn shot Drew a look that was filled with gratitude. She obviously did not relish being under heavy guard. One of the guards piped up, “Nay, that would not be possible.”
Drew was not daunted. He said, “And may I ask why the lady seems to be under arrest?”
“That is of no concern of yours and you would be wise to mind your business. This is a matter of the king and…”
Drew cut him off saying, “The Lady is a friend of mine. That makes it my business. Lass, what happened?”
Blush deepened in her face and she said, “I was seen being escorted back to my chambers last night. I was not supposed to be in the garden alone. Your king felt it best to double my guard since I had disobeyed his orders to keep to my chambers.”
Andrew’s jaw flexed in anger. The girl had not been doing anything untoward.
“But you were only playing your harp. That should not be considered a crime.” As the words left his mouth, he realized his mistake.
“How did you know that,” one of the guards asked, moving forward to try to intimidate Andrew. Andrew was not fazed by the intimidation. In fact, he stood taller and showed just how undaunted he was, as he towered over the repugnant oaf standing between himself and the girl.
“Because, I found her. I was the one who escorted her back in. She was doing nothing wrong. After all, I thought she was a guest, not a prisoner.”
“She is a guest with shall we say, limited freedoms here.”
Drew saw anger flash in Bronwyn’s eyes.
“I am a hostage and nothing more,” she spat.
Drew knew she was more than spouting angry words. In a sense, it was true. She was being used, same as Erik. Drew felt angry along with her. This was not right regardless of whether she was a Scot or not.
“Well then, at least permit me to join you in breaking your fast. I take it that the lady is not prohibited from speaking with a friend?”
“Nay, but how is it that you and she are not enemies. You are here because her intended is…”
Drew’s jaw tensed further as he tried to hold his temper.
“Erik Ragnorsen is an honorable man, and he is already married. His incarceration is most unfortunate, but I have no argument with this lady. In fact, I am delighted to have made her acquaintance.”
Her eye lashes swept down over her cheeks and he saw a blush once again stain them, as well. He was utterly charmed by her reaction. He took her hand to his lips again, just taking any opportunity to touch her, and said, “Lady, would you join me for breakfast?”
Her eyes met his and with a look of pure gratitude, she murmured, “Aye...”
Drew was taken by the demeanor of this woman. This girl was not an experienced courtier. She had probably lived a very s
heltered life in her highlands, isolated to an extent. Yet Drew saw indomitable spirit, and he suspected an unquenched passion that hid beneath her carefully reserved surface. Still, he knew she did not really know how to react to him. She was almost shy before him. Drew’s lips quirked into a slow grin, thinking he’d like to help her unfold some of that hidden passion. He knew those thoughts were very dangerous, but with her blush still staining her cheeks, Drew could think of nothing more than kissing her.
When the two men went to get plates of food, she turned to Drew and asked, “Why would you want to befriend me?
“I told you lass, I have no argument with you. This is an unfortunate mistake, but Erik cannot marry you. On that I will stand firm. In the meantime, let us enjoy each other’s company and break our fast together.”
They ate the morning meal, chatting amiably, and with each part of the conversation, Drew felt her shyness evaporating. He also felt a sense of ease with this girl. He did not want to ponder that too deeply. He just enjoyed talking to her. There did not have to be more to it than that. Oh, and lest he forget; looking at her…yes, he enjoyed looking at her. That was an added benefit. She was beautiful. That certainly was a nice side-pleasure to conversing and enjoying a meal with her. Drew did not really want to admit that he nearly could not take his eyes off of her. He heard a small voice in his head say, “You always enjoy the beauty of women.”
Yes, that was it. He liked pretty women. Suddenly, though he realized, it was more than his admiration of beautiful women. This one was more than just another pretty face. She was enchanting him, making him want to spend time with her, making him want to learn about her. Drew ignored the little voice that warned him that this course was of no use to him and would only end badly.