by D. K. Combs
“I’ll no’ be marrying no cocky, arrogant, foolish, officious brute of a man—not ever in my—mmph.” She reared back from the body she’d slammed into, throwing her hands out to catch herself before she could fall. When her hands connected with the wall, she breathed a sigh of relief—until she saw who she had collided into.
Leith. The bane of her existence. His hair was pulled back into braids, and currently, he had no armor on. It left him in his plaid, shoulder bare as well as chest. She could willingly admit he was a handsome man. Not only was his hair blonde, but his eyes were a pure, pale brown. Though Blay was tall for a woman, he somehow managed to stand over her by at least a foot. He had the muscles to match his height as well.
“Blay,” he said politely, nodding his head. “I was just beginning to search for ye’.”
“And as ye’ can see,” she said, her voice cool as ice without any exertion, “I am quite busy. I have an errand that I must attend to, so if ye’ would please—”
“This will take nothing but a second of yer time, lass,” he said impatiently, scowling down at her. She looked passed him and saw a servant skitter away. Her face flamed when she realized how this must look.
She had been lucky enough to fall against the wall—but Leith had somehow managed to end up directly in front of her, his hands braced on either side of her head, with his shoulders hunched. The impropriety of the pose went so against the tone of his voice that it made her uneasy, more so than the simple fact that he would dare take such liberties in an open area—in her own home!
Before he could open his mouth to speak, she ducked under his arm.
“My lord, I am sorry if this has inconvenienced ye’ at all, but I must be off. Mayhap later we’ll speak.”
His hand curled around her forearm before she could make her quick escape.
“My lady, I am sorry if this has inconvenienced ye’ at all,” he said teasingly, a small smile on his lips, “but I donna have time for games. Even without yer parents making it painfully aware that ye’ donna want to wed, I would like to ken…why.”
She blinked. “Why?”
He nodded, using her arm to draw her close. “Aye. Why. Brodrick, my father, and Kane, yer father, have been friends for the longest of times. Our union would bring pride to both families, so I donna ken the why of yer resistance to me. I have no’ offended ye—”
Before he could list his reasons of why she should marry him, she held up the arm that he was currently holding.
“Ye’ve no’ offended me?” she asked, aghast. “Ye’ve hurt my reputation. Maids saw the way ye’ crowded me into a corner. Ye’ just now grabbed me so ye’ could make a point. What’s to say that if I marry ye’, ye’ won’t do other things to make a point to me? Nay,” she said, shaking her head. Blay pulled her arm away from his, holding it to her chest. “Yer a good man from what I’ve heard, Leith. We even used to be verra good friends when we were younger. But what ye’ want from me is something I am not comfortable giving to ye’—”
He blanched, guilt coming over his handsome face. “I can make ye’ comfortable with me, lass, if ye’ give me a chance. I’d never do anything to harm ye’ or any woman—”
“That may be true,” Blay said tightly, knowing deep down that Brodrick had raised a fine son that was worthy of any woman in the Highlands, “but…I canna.”
A look came over his face. His jaw ticked. She feared for a second that he would act on the hurt in his eyes, but then he sighed and shook his head. Slowly. Sadly.
“I willna force ye’ into anything, lass. No’ even if our families, and myself, want it.”
Relief unlike anything she’d ever felt crashed through her. If she hadn’t made up her mind years ago to never be wed to a man, she admitted that she could see something forming between the two of them.
Aye, his advances were inappropriate—but they were minimal, and he was a man. Men acted on their emotions in ways that women sometimes did not understand, or didn’t want to. Holding hands and trying to become closer to her was just what men did, apparently.
He was an honest lad. A good lad. He could do so much better than a woman who would only turn away from him…but the reality of the situation was still as it had been before.
“Tell that to my mother,” she said quietly, knowing that anything that happened right now was pointless to the eyes of her mother. Blay looked at the open window of the corridor. A black crow was sitting on the sill, seeming to listen, observe. His head tilted to the side when their eyes met. “Nothing I do seems to convince her that this is a horrible idea.”
He winced.
“Please, do no’ be offended.” She patted his arm, feeling like a right fool. “Tis just…”
“I ken, lass.” He gave her an awkward pat on the shoulder, the look on his face saying that he more than understood. “T’will be all taken care of. Donna worry.”
She gave him a regretful smile, nodding. “I can only hope yer right, my lord. Farewell for now.”
“Aye…”
She did not give him a second glance. With her ridiculous skirts in her hands, she continued her way out of the corridor and into the training grounds. She was thankful that he understood, and felt regret over the way she had obviously wounded his pride.
He was a strong boy, though. He would overcome it. She nodded to herself, pleased with the knowledge that one day, he would overcome this rejection and find a woman who suited him.
Even if her mother sent every woman in the land away with the sole purpose of making him accept her, Blay would resist that. She would resist everything. It was not childish notions that fueled her adamancy to remain unmarried; she wished her mother would try to see her point of view, but that…nay.
Her mother had always been horrible at trying to see the other side of the cloth.
She continued on her journey through the castle. She needed to escape, and there was one place that she could find it. However, as she came up to the stables, stable boys skittered away and the stablemaster looked at her with regret. That didn’t stop her from striding toward them. What did stop her, though, was the old man standing in front of the threshold.
Blay stared at the stablemaster in disbelief as he ruefully blocked her entrance.
“What do ye’ mean, I’m no’ allowed into the stables? That is my horse in there!” She threw her hands up, amazed that her mother would go this far. He didn’t even have to say it—she knew full well who the cause of this was.
“I’m sorry, lass. I go’ my orders and if I want to be feedin’ my family tonight, I have to listen to them.” Behind him, the horses began to stir.
Blay could see her own mare in the right side of the stall, her large white head poking out of the stall, eyes locked on her. It had been so long since she’d taken the beast out for a ride—and now that she was, her mother was preventing her from even that!
Of course, her mother knew where she would be going—but that was besides the point. Blay had never cared if her mother hadn’t liked Anna or not.
“Ye’ ken she shouldn’t do that to ye’, no matter what she threatened,” Blay huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Aye, but…lass, she looked right mad. Whatever ye’ did to anger her so, I suggest ye’ go and apologize quickly. I feel like she has more planned than just keeping ye’ from riding.”
Blay pressed her lips.
“There isn’t much else she can keep me from doing besides that,” she said bitterly. Frustrated, and knowing that he wouldn’t disobey her mother’s orders, she turned on her heel. She clenched her hands together. If anything came up to her at this point, she was sure her fist would find itself in their face—and she hoped someone came up to her. Oh, she hoped to the high heavens that someone gave her more bad news.
Then she would unleash the unholy fury she was feeling. Aye, she would destroy everything.
Her feet carried her aimlessly, and the more she walked, the more she was surprised that no one approached her. But,
that was expected. She was sure she presented quite an image. Her black hair was pulled back and pleated, but her face…she could feel the heat coming from it.
It wasn’t until she found herself standing at the edge of the creek, several moments later, that she breathed. Actually breathed.
Then she collapsed to the ground, tears stinging her eyes. She had to speak to Anna. She was the only one who would understand Blay’s situation, the only one who understood why Blay would never marry.
She was the only one who knew the terror of marriage as Blay did.
Blay closed her eyes, burying her face in her knees, trying to stop the shudders that were wracking her body. She would never go through what she had when she had been ten and six, not with another man, not in another marriage.
Her breath came in short gasps as memories assailed her.
Nay, never again would she marry.
All it led to was lies, pain, and disaster.
She lifted her head, swiping her hands over her cheeks—then froze. A sensation ran down her spine, lifting the hair on the back of her neck.
Her eyes focused on the forestation on the other side of the creek. Something was watching her. Blay could feel it, could feel it like whoever was watching her was breathing down her neck.
“Lass—”
She screamed, whipping around, fists raised. Then she saw who’d come up behind her.
“Connor?” she asked thinly. Her heart crashed in her chest.
“What were you doing?” he asked, concern dotting his brow and eyes. He helped her to her feet, then put an arm around her shoulder, holding her against him as the tremors began to flow through her. “Why did you scream?”
“Ye’ startled me.” That was partially true.
Aye, he’d startled her, but he had also caused her to grow a few grey hairs. She looked over her shoulder, back at the forestation.
The feeling that she was being watched gradually left her.
But the other feeling, the one that told her something was wrong, did not.
“Love, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Connor. Nothing…at all.” She shook her head, more to clear her thoughts than warn him from bringing it up again. “Did she send you?”
“Aye, love. She doesn’t want you by the creek anymore.”
“She couldn’t have told me that herself?” Blay asked bitterly, pulling out of his arms. He gave her a look.
“Let’s be rational about this. Do you really want your furious mother to talk to you at this point?”
Blay looked at the ground.
“I thought as much. Now, what had you so scared? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you scream like that, not since you were but a babe. Oh, my. Those were the days,” he said thoughtfully, not giving her a chance to answer. “All the shite that was thrown, the piss that was aimed. Those were your more elegant years—and you didn’t give your mother conniptions.”
She stared at him, silent.
“I miss the days when you would actually speak to us,” he said with a laugh. “Now you just look at us like you don’t know how to talk.”
“That is not true at all,” she defended herself. “I just wait for people to speak. It’s called being polite.”
“It’s not polite when they are waiting for you to speak back to them, darling. Now, come sit with me and tell me what happened today.” Connor sat his fancily dressed bottom on the ground. His movements were slow, showing her just how aged he was.
“I thought Mother said I wasn’t allowed to be near the creek,” she murmured, though she followed suit, and sat beside him.
“She said nothing about you staying here with me, though. As far as I’m concerned, you’re escorting an old man.” He chuckled, then sobered. The look he gave her made her feel like she was only ten winters. “I’ve heard some talk of your…rebellion—”
“I am not rebelling, damnit—”
“And while I know your first marriage ended in catastrophe…I know Leith is more capable of surviving longer than several months.”
She stopped trying to cut in, pressing her lips. Everyone had it wrong—everyone had it so entirely wrong that it made her want to scream. But she didn’t. Like she always did, Blay stayed silent.
The only person she would ever discuss her failed marriage is with Anna, and without her horse, it would take Blay ages to reach her.
“He’s also a gentleman. A warrior. A fine, young lad—”
“He’s also yer best friend’s son, Connor.”
“That’s besides the matter! Your mother is dead set on this marriage between the two of you, and—”
“Can ye’ not talk her out of it? Explain to her that I’m…I’m past my prime for marriage. I am no’ good meat anymore. Connor, please—”
“Did you know your mother was just about the same age as you are when she met your father? The court has this silly notion that when you reach a certain age, you’re past your prime. I beg to differ,” he said with a quaint nod. “You’re at the perfect marrying age, in my opinion.”
She swiped a hand over her face, groaning. He was missing the point completely—and she knew it was on purpose. Connor was one of the most intuitive people she had ever met in her life, more so than her parents combined.
“I need to get away from here,” she said tightly, pushing herself to her feet. She couldn’t listen to Connor or any person besides Anna. They didn’t know.
“Do you want help with that? I saw you leaving the stables and—”
She shook her head. “Gary will not let me pass for any reason. He has strict orders from my mother.”
“Pfft.” Connor flapped a hand at her. “You’re so unadventurous that it makes me pity the life you’ve lived. Come, my sweet lemon drop. We will fix this predicament of yours.”
“Which one? The horse or the marriage?”
“The horse, you ninny. There’s nothing in the world that will persuade your mother in her decision.” He laughed like he found her plight hilarious, then twined their arms together. “Now, let us de-lady you.”
“Gary, my old friend. How fare thee on this fine day?” She clung to Connor’s side, feeling…exposed.
Exposed in a way she had never been exposed before.
Lord, this was not what she had thought he meant by “de-ladying” her. She crossed her arms over her chest, then winced. Probably not the best idea when her breasts were already beginning to ache from the binding.
She whimpered, drawing Gary’s attention.
“Quite all right,” he said, frowning. “Who’s the lad? I’ve no’ seen him here before.”
“The boy is from the village over. He’s been brought here to train Lady Blay’s mare.” Connor patted her on the back, grinning. Gary looked less than convinced. She gave an uneasy nod, afraid to open her mouth.
Connor had said her voice was far too innocent to pass as a man’s, but if she absolutely had to speak, she would have to deepen it—though it would sound like a strangled cow, as Connor had warned her.
What a reassuring friend he was.
“Name o’ the lad?”
“Angus. He’s a very good learner. Lady Blay sent for him ages ago, but the missive was delayed for some reason.”
Gary leaned in, face twisted with the force of his concentration.
Her palms began to sweat. He knew—he knew exactly who she was, and he was going to tell her mother that Connor was turning her into a lad, and then they would both get into trouble, and she’d be locked in her room like a captured princess. And then that would make it all too easy for her mother to force her into the marriage, and...and—and—
“Well, all right then,” Gary finally said, his voice way too dubious for her own comfort. Still, the sweating of her palms lessened when he let the two of them pass. She sighed, giving Connor a grateful look.
He only winked.
“Be good, love. And don’t stay out too late.”
“What if she asks about me?” Blay whispered, givin
g him a worried look. “I don’t want you to get into trouble over this.”
“I’ll make up something if she does, which is doubtful. Kane has been working to calm her down.” He laughed.
She almost vomited.
“That’s…lovely.” She opened the stall to her mare, giving Connor one last hug before Blay mounted her. She chose bareback, too worried about Gary questioning her if she was in the stables too long.
Connor backed away, giving her a small solute. “Be safe, love.”
“I always am.” She smiled at him before motioning her horse into a trot. Before Gary could talk to her, she was at a gallop.
She loved riding, loved the way the wind felt on her face, the sound of powerful hooves storming over the ground. It was thrillingly beautiful—but the weight on her shoulders was too much for her to take any joy out of the ride.
It’s not as dire as I’m making it out to be, she lied to herself. Even if I do end up married to Leith, not all men are like Hagen. Leith has already shown that he is not…yet, Hagen started out as a gentleman, too.
She didn’t know what to think or say—all she knew was that she needed a good shoulder to cry on, and Anna had always been there for her. The two of them had more in common than just being good friends. It was their past, and Anna’s present, that bound the two of them together—
Her horse came to an abrupt stop, rearing back. A pained scream ripped from her mares throat, and that was when she became aware that men were coming out of the forests. Men were coming out of the forests, with weapons drawn, and their faces painted completely black. The plaid they wore was one she couldn’t place.
Her horse whimpered and whined under her, drawing her stupefied attention to the bleeding wound at her flank. The cause of the blood and pain her horse was feeling centered around the arrow that had been shot.
Her heart dropped to her stomach. Staying on her horse would only cause her pain—but by the amount of men that were coming from the trees, it was either death or a little more pain to get them out of there.