Page 3 of Highlanders for the Holidays
She was visiting kin.
The mountain was impassable.
The river was too high.
She was grieving over a lost kitten.
Meanwhile, he’d been stuck in the Lowlands, awaiting word that he could come for her.
Finally, he’d lost patience. He was weary of waiting for the lass to decide that he merited her company.
Part of the King’s reason for awarding him a Highland bride was to assure the continuing alliance between Scotland and France. King Philip had recently made peace with Scotland’s enemy, England. This had naturally caused a rumble of discontent among the Scots. The fact that this particular Highland bride was delaying their marriage strained not only No?l’s patience. It strained the peace between their countries.
So, as archaic as it seemed, No?l decided he’d have to formally demand his bride.
Of course, he was no fool. The Scots might be allies of the French. But Highlanders were a different breed—wild and unpredictable. He couldn’t afford to be caught with his braies down in the frozen north. He’d brought only a handful of men with him. He was ill equipped to wage war.
So he decided to use his brains instead of his brawn.
He chose to come at Yuletide. At Yuletide, the castle gates would be open in welcome. The keep would be teeming with people. Ale would be flowing. Spirits would be high. Nobody would be troubled by a few stray faces among the clan.
Once they were safely inside, No?l would announce to the laird that he hadn’t been able to endure one more day without his betrothed. With any luck, the romantic gesture would soften his bride’s heart. At the very least, with her entire clan as witness, it would make it difficult for her to refuse him.
So far, things had gone to plan. Even now, he and his men were dispersing peacefully through the crowded hall. They’d left their armor and swords outside the gates. There was no need to appear hostile. Still, as a precaution, they’d kept their daggers close at hand.
He scanned the hall and decided that the lass seated at the laird’s right hand must be his betrothed.
She was as lovely as he’d heard. Her skin was fashionably pale. Her cheeks were fashionably rosy. Her russet hair was swept up in an amazing labyrinth that must have taken hours to braid. Her chin had a proud tilt. Her stained lips were set in a knowing half-smile. The sweeping neckline of her gown revealed firm, round breasts. Her eyes smoked with subtle, sly desire as she sipped at her ale. She would definitely turn heads, even in France, which was filled with beauties.
Then No?l’s gaze drifted to the lass seated on the laird’sleftside. And his heart tripped.
He must have been mistaken. Granted, the first lass was undeniably pretty. But the lass on the left was a maid to take a man’s breath away. The rumors were true. He’d never seen a more beautiful female…anywhere.
Her skin glowed with health. Her long auburn hair, shining in the candlelight, fell in simple, gentle waves over her shoulders. She had large, captivating eyes, a pointed chin, and a sweet mouth. The soft wool of her muted gray gown seemed to swirl around her petite body like Highland mist.
As he observed her, the lass stole a slice of meat from her father’s trencher. Then, with a crafty grin, she passed it to the man beside her.
The corner of No?l’s lip twitched in amusement. It appeared his bride had a streak of mischief in her. That pleased him.
Indeed, as he watched the wayward lass continuing to steal more food right from under her father’s nose, an interesting possibility occurred to him.
No?l had always expected to have a marriage of political convenience. Like all French nobles, he served as a chess piece for King Philip. Alliances were often established through strategic marriages. Love had little to do with it. He was just as likely to be wed to a withered beldame or a mere child as to a lovely maid his own age.
Learning that his bride was renowned for her beauty had been a welcome surprise. But the idea that he might actually grow tolikethis plucky new wife of his? That was quite intriguing.
He kept gazing at her until he caught her eye.
But instead of returning his friendly smile, her grin faded, and she regarded him with suspicion.
Not wishing to make a bad first impression, he quickly averted his eyes. When he next looked up, she’d left her spot at the table and was making her determined way toward him.
He straightened and tossed back the hood of his cloak, prepared to say whatever it took to ensure that he didn’t leave the Highlands without a bride. Nothing could prepare him, however, for her bluntness. Or for her big, luminous, soul-searching gray eyes.
“Who areye?”she muttered under her breath in her Gaelic tongue as the merrymaking continued around them. “And what are ye doin’ here?”
No?l was taken aback by her fearless and forthright manner. The lass certainly wasted no words. Nor did she seem to be intimidated by the fact that he towered over her by nearly a foot.
“I asked ye a question,” she said impatiently.
