Page 40 of The Handfasting
He hid something behind his back and cleared his throat. “I could ask ye the same thing.”
She realized she was holding the bound locks of hair where he could easily see them. But she couldn’t exactly tuck them back into her bodice. “I needed…fresh air.”
He wasn’t fooled for an instant. And his gaze went immediately to what she was holding in her hand. “What have ye got there?”
A dozen lies crossed her mind. She opened her mouth to speak one of them. But none of them were believable. So she closed her mouth again. She might as well confess. She shook her head. “Locks o’ hair.”
“Whose hair?”
She raised her chin in challenge. “Yours and mine.”
She expected him to make fun of her. He’d doubtless have a good chuckle at her expense. And just as she anticipated, he began to laugh.
But then he held aloft what he had behind his back. “Like these?”
She frowned. He was holding strands of black and auburn hair tied together with a green ribbon. Her hand went instinctively to her head as she wondered when he’d stolen a lock of her hair. “How did ye…?”
“While we were kissin’.” One side of his mouth curved up in a grin. “And ye?”
She gave him a sheepish smile. “While ye were sleepin’.”
He shook his head. “Come on.” His eyes twinkled as he summoned her with his free hand. “We may as well get it over with.”
She joined him where he stood over the well. “Do ye think ’twill work?”
“I have no idea, but ’tis worth—”
There was a sudden movement through the trees. They both froze. Someone was coming their way. Damn! The last thing Ysenda wanted was an audience for their foolishness.
But after a moment, she blinked in surprise. She recognized the lurching motion of the intruder.
No?l recognized it as well. “What the devil? Caimbeul?”
Caimbeul was struggling through the snow. His staff slipped on the slick surface. He was out of breath. But he had a wide smile on his face.
“Caimbeul!” she said, handing the locks of hair off to No?l before rushing forward to meet her brother. “Are ye all right? How did ye walk so far? And in the snow?” As far as she remembered, he’d only been to the well once before, and he’d had to ride part of the way on a vendor’s cart.
He shrugged off her questions to ask his own. “What are the two o’ ye doin’ here? Are ye wishin’ on the well? Is that what ye’re doin’?”
“Nae,” she said.
“Aye,” No?l said.
Ysenda frowned. She wasn’t exactly proud of what they were doing.
But Caimbeul only laughed and hobbled forward, then dug something out of his satchel. For an instant, Ysenda couldn’t speak.
“Is that what I think ’tis?” No?l asked.
Caimbeul grinned. “Locks o’ your hair? Aye.”
Ysenda blinked at the white-ribboned bundle. “I’m beginnin’ to think I’m lucky I haven’t been plucked bald. How did ye…?”
“Remember when I knocked ye on your arse in the courtyard?” Caimbeul asked, clearly acting the braggart. “I might have stolen a few strands while ye lay helpless.”
No?l narrowed his eyes and nodded. “And ye took mine when ye had that ‘accident’ in the armory, didn’t ye?”
“Ye said trickery was my strength.” Caimbeul beamed with pride. “So what do we do now?”
