Page 57 of Desire's Ransom
She had trouble imagining firing an arrow into Sir Ryland’s heart.
Then there was the English king to consider. Traditionally, coming from a long line of chieftains, Temair commanded the highest honor price in herclannand was most likely to be elected. Though women could not hold the chieftain position, she might choose her own husband and confer chieftain status upon him.
But times were changing. Rules were changing. The arrival of the English meant that chieftains were just as often appointed as elected. If she refused to wed the man of the king’s choosing, he could conceivably send an army to take the holding by force.
It was a difficult situation. But unless she wanted her birthright handed over to an English knight and his counterfeit bride, she had no choice but to take action. Now. Even if it wasn’t the most convenient time. Even if she wasn’t fully prepared.
She flopped back onto her side with a sigh.
“You may not snore,” Ryland murmured in the darkness, startling her, “but you certainly toss and turn like a tempest.”
“I’m not accustomed to sleepin’ in close quarters with strange men,” she hissed pointedly.
“I can see why. They wouldn’t get a moment’s rest.”
Her temper flared, and her voice dripped with sarcasm. “Well, I’m sorry if I’m keepin’ ye awake.”
“Oh, don’t feel sorry for me.” She could hear the humor in his voice. “’Tis the hounds I’m worried about.”
She snorted. “At least my hounds have the good sense to sleep at my feet instead o’ breathin’ down my neck.”
“Bloody hell, will ye two keep it down?” Conall suddenly called out from a nearby tree. “Some of us are tryin’ to get a good night’s rest.”
Temair’s face went hot.
“See what I mean?” Ryland whispered.
She shoved him.
He snickered.
She managed to fume in silence then. But that didn’t stop the noisy workings of her brain. How Ryland could be so infuriating and amusing at the same time, she couldn’t fathom. But one thing was clear. She couldn’t be less inclined to fall asleep.
