Page 251 of The Daughters of Avalon
He was entirely relieved to see she’d heeded his advice. Had she attempted an early escape, there would be nothing he could do to prevent her mother from doing her worst—not so long as she held Cael’s fate in her hands.
Indeed, Rhiannon was a wise little bird…
Perhaps wiser than her mother could possibly know.
But he knew.
She was passionate, brave, loyal and intelligent, and so much as he’d resisted the bent to admire her, he nevertheless did.
Never once had he allowed her to win at a game of Queen’s Chess; she’d matched him point for point, and gave no quarter, pursuing him as artfully as a courtier, sealing his fate time after time. She was as cunning as she was lovely, and neither did she needmagikto best him.
Nay, indeed, she was here because she, too, was playing a game, and he wondered… what did she consider to be the ultimate prize?
The obvious answer was her freedom, but some tiny part of him hoped…
Would she take some small pride in taking his name?
“Excuse me,” he said, rising abruptly, intending to play the part of the smitten groom—nor would it be particularly difficult … so long as he didn’t consider the evening’s conclusion.
God’s bones, he would miss her—far more than he was willing to confess.
“Of course,” said Morwen, though he felt her eyes boring into his back as he abandoned her upon the dais.Good.
If she was already warning him about his misplaced trust and affection for her daughter, everything was going according to plan. For everyone’s sake, it was crucial that Morwen believehe, too, had been betrayed. But he was no fool. If she suspected aught was amiss, this was not the time or place she would reveal her hand.
This was notthe greeting Rhiannon had anticipated. Inconceivably, there were looks of adoration as she passed, although she couldn’t help but wonder how much of the pageantry was an act. For all that the hall seemed to abound with laughter, she sensed vipers coiled beneath the tables, waiting for her to pass to strike.
How many of these guests had arrived with her mother?
How many were loyal to Cael?
Whatever the case, none of them were Rhiannon’s allies, and precisely as the maid who’d dressed her had made so perfectly clear, no one attending this evening would take her side against Morwen—except Cael.
Cursing Cael for leaving her to parade herself alone through this hall, she held her breath as she made her way to the dais, encountering a sea of curious gazes—blue eyes, green, brown… only she was acutely aware of one very canny pair of golden eyes, watching every move she made. And regardless, her gaze was drawn, not to Morwen’s, but to the steely pair of eyes of the man who’d risen from his seat and now wended his way toward her…
Cael.
Dressed in an elegant black surcoat, his eyes glinted mercurially, begging caution. Clearly, he understood, as she understood, that one wrong word would force an end to their charade, and perhaps to their lives as well.
Behind Cael, her mother sat very still upon the dais, watching, like a spider waiting to see what prey would wander into her web. But, of course, she was nothing if not clever, andRhiannon was infinitely grateful that Cael was brave enough—or witless enough—to defy her.
Surely, he must have some ulterior motive; it simply couldn’t be that he cared for her…
Catching her by the arm, he drew her close to whisper in her ear. “Kiss me as though you mean it,” he demanded, and then took her face into his hands, as a lover might, cupping her cheeks with such tender ferocity that Rhiannon was momentarily stunned by the gesture.
Never in her life had she been kissed by any man, but the dark look in Cael’s eyes before he possessed her mouth effectively silenced her protest. For an interminable moment, she was too stunned even to nod.
Sweet, sweet fates!
The instant his mouth—hot, wet and persistent—found hers, in full view of so many witnesses, it stole away her breath.
No one present could call this a lie.
No one had any true inkling what transpired in the privacy of her bedchamber. For all they knew, this was merely one of many kisses that came before it. “Cael,” she breathed, though she wasn’t sure it was a protest. To all watching, there could be no question; they must be lovers.
“Cael,” she whispered, again, as he grinned, breaking the kiss to peer at her with an odd glimmer in his eyes that could only be mistaken for affection. He caressed her flushed cheek with a thumb and Rhiannon hadn’t any clue how long she clung to him, only that sudden and raucous laughter erupted amidst the courtiers and guests. Rude jests were made.
“He can’t even wait for the vows,” said a man very gleefully.
