Page 20 of Highlanders for the Holidays
Chapter 5
Ysenda woke before the sun. In her sleep, she’d somehow wrapped her arms and one leg around her bedmate. She paled, realizing she had to untangle herself both from Sir No?l and from the mess her father had created before it was too late. She also had to make sure nothing bad had happened to Caimbeul.
She carefully extricated herself and glanced at the man sleeping beside her. She couldn’t resist a fond grin. One side of his face was distorted where it was smashed into the downy mattress. His hair stuck out every which way, like a tree struck by lightning. His mouth hung open, and great snores issued forth. The noble knight didn’t look quite so noble now. And yet his unguarded sleep made her adore him all the more.
How pleasant it would be to wake up each day to such an endearing sight…to hear the reassuring sound of his breathing…to peruse the sculpted contours of his…
She almost choked when she beheld the bold silhouette poking up the linen sheet. How could that be? How could he be aroused when he was fast asleep?
Her cheeks flaming, she crept out of the bed before things could get worse. She cast one last despondent glance at the man she was leaving behind. Then she left the chamber to seek out her brother.
* * *
“Where is he?” she demanded. “What have ye done with him?”
The laird grimaced as her sharp words pierced his aching head. “He’s fine.” He shooed her away and continued to poke among the kitchen stores for something to soothe the pain.
She found the vial of willow bark extract and shoved it into his hand. “Father, listen to me. What happened last night was a mistake. Ye can’t go against the king. ‘Tis…” She glanced around the cellar, even though it was too small to conceal spies. Then she whispered, “’Tis high treason.”
“Ach!” he scoffed. “The king won’t come marchin’ all the way up here to enforce one wee marriage.” But Ysenda detected a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. “Besides,” he said, uncorking the vial and sniffing at the contents, “’tis too late now.”
“But that’s just it. ‘Tisn’t too late.” She licked her lips, hating to lie. “We didn’t…that is…there was a weddin’…but there was no beddin’.”
He screwed up his face in disbelief. “What?”
“The handfastin’ can be broken now. He’ll be free to marry Cathalin.”
He stared at her as if she were stupid. “He’s not marryin’ Cathalin.”
Ysenda’s heart plummeted. “But he has to. The king decreed it. Ye signed the papers yourself.”
“I’m not givin’ my land to a Norman, no matter what the king decrees.”
“But my laird…Da…don’t ye see? Ye’ve been given a second chance.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Ye wily wench. Ye refused him on purpose.”
“Aye, I did. I did it for the good o’ the clan. I could see ye weren’t in your right mind last night. And I knew if I didn’t—”
The back of his fist cracked suddenly against her cheek, rocking her head and making her stagger sideways. She caught herself on the shelf, knocking over a row of bottles that clattered on the stones.
She blinked in shock and worked her jaw, making sure he hadn’t knocked out any teeth. Her instincts told her to repay him with a solid punch of her own. It wouldn’t have been the first time she’d given as good as she’d gotten from a man.
But for once she had to resist the urge.
After all, he was the laird.
He was her father.
And he had Caimbeul locked away somewhere.
“How dare ye speak to me like that,” he snarled. “I know what’s best for the clan. And ‘tisn’t havin’ a laird that’s not even Scots.”
She ignored her stinging cheek. Somehow she had to convince him he was making a mistake. “But Da, he must be a decent man. The king himself chose him. He’ll be good to Cathalin and provide for the clan as well as—”
“Nae, ‘tis settled.” He took a tiny sip from the vial, wrinkling his nose. “Cathalin’s bridegroom, herHighlandbridegroom, is due to arrive any day now. I’ll simply say we couldn’t wait any longer for their Norman knight, that by the time he arrived, her weddin’ had already taken place.”
“You’d lie to the king?”
