Page 13 of The Handfasting
Ysenda swallowed hard. This was not going to be easy.
Her brother glowered at her, as if he could read her mind.
She glowered back.
He shook his head.
She stuck out her tongue.
Unfortunately, No?l turned at that moment and caught her in the childish gesture. She quickly withdrew her tongue, but not before his face split into a grin.
She’d hoped their escape to the bedchamber would go unnoticed. But it was not to be. Four Frenchmen gathered round with great pomp to carry No?l on their shoulders. And before she could protest, two more had hoisted her up. With the clan cheering in noisy celebration, the couple were carried up the stairs and deposited before Cathalin’s chamber.
No?l opened the door. Ysenda, unwilling to risk further humiliation, hurried in. She counted herself lucky his men didn’t push their way past her to make themselves welcome in the bedchamber. No?l waved goodnight to the celebrants and secured the door.
The room was dim. While she stood beside the door, he hung up his cloak and crossed to the hearth, using the poker on the wall to jab the banked coals to life. Then he added a few chunks of peat to keep the fire going.
It had been a while since Ysenda had been in this chamber. Living in her cottage, she’d forgotten how luxurious the castle was. The carved wood bed was fitted with a thick pallet of feathers and draped in a deep blue brocade canopy. A heavy chest containing Cathalin’s gowns crouched at its foot. A large wooden trestle table stood against one wall. Its top was littered with vials and jars of the oils, powders, and potions Cathalin used to maintain her beauty.
The window was shuttered at the moment. But she knew it afforded a magnificent view of the distant brae and the forest where the old Viking well stood, because once, this chamber had belonged to Ysenda as well.
While she was lost in her thoughts, No?l came up behind her. When his hands settled lightly on her shoulders, she jumped.
He chuckled. “I didn’t mean to frighten ye, lass.”
“I’m not frightened,” she scoffed. It wasn’t quite the truth. But showing fear was never wise. At least that was what her warrior mother had taught her.
He slid the edges of his thumbs along the tops of her shoulders. “I’m beginnin’ to suspect ye’re not frightened of anythin’.”
He was wrong about that. At the moment, she was a bit frightened of herself.
“Ye made me a promise,” she breathlessly reminded him. “I’m trustin’ ye to be a man o’ your word.”
“I’m a de Ware,” he said, as if that should explain everything.
Then he turned her in his arms to face him, holding her in his indigo gaze. “But ye know ye can only bend a man so far. I’m your husband now. On the morrow, I won’t take nae for an answer.”
She nodded. His demands were perfectly reasonable. But by morn, everything would be sorted out. And tomorrow night, in this very chamber, he would claim his husbandly rights…with her sister.
The idea turned her stomach.
Her eyes lowered to his mouth. She couldn’t abide the thought of Cathalin kissing No?l. Her brat of a sister didn’t deserve to wrap her arms around his neck, to taste his sweet lips.
While she continued to stare, his mouth curved up in a slow, sly smile. “Go on then.”
“What?”
“Kiss me.”
“What?”
“I can see ye want to.”
Flustered, she gave her head a wee shake.
“Go on,” he urged, crossing his arms over his chest. “I won’t even kiss ye back.”
Kissing him again would be a mistake. She knew that. Yet she lowered her gaze to his mouth, considering the idea.
