Page 102 of Laird of Steel
The lady shook her head. “I should have told him long ago. But I didn’t have the courage. And once he started writing those beautiful letters to me, I didn’t have the heart.”
Merraid’s eyes flattened. She wished she’d never interfered. Never made that promise to Lady Feiyan that she’d grease the wheels of romance.
The only thing she could do now was soften the blow to Gellir’s heart.
“What if…” she said, worrying her lip under her teeth. “What if ye wait to consummate the marriage till ye arrive at Rivenloch?”
“Rivenloch?” Carenza exclaimed. “’Tis a sennight’s journey or more. Will that not strain his husbandly patience?”
“Ye could tell him ye’re sufferin’ from your courses.”
“I won’t lie to him. I can’t.”
Merraid sighed. She was right, of course. Morally. But if a lie eased the way…
“What if I find a way to delay him where ye won’t have to lie?” Merraid said. “By the time ye arrive at his home, ye’ll be long wedded and well-acquainted. Perhaps the news won’t hit him so hard then.”
“Perhaps. But ye’ll come with me, aye?”
“Come with ye?”
“To Rivenloch. Ye’ll be there when I tell him.”
Merraid’s brows slammed together. Being near to Gellir? Stirring that fire? It was a terrible idea. “Nay. I can’t do that.”
“Ye can,” the lady insisted, tightening her grip. “Ye’ve got to.”
Of course she couldn’t go to Rivenloch. That was absurd. Even if a tiny glimmer of hope stirred in her brain at the thought of seeing the formidable castle with its grand tiltyard and enormous armory.
“I’m needed here,” she argued. “Lady Feiyan—”
“I need ye more.Gellirneeds ye. Ye can go as…as my handmaiden.”
“I cannot, m’lady,” Merraid said, pulling her arm away. As tempted as she was, she knew it wasn’t right. “Ye’ll be fine. Ye’ll see. Just don’t…” She bit back her words.
“Don’t what?”
“Promise me ye won’t tell him on your weddin’ night.” Gellir deserved at least one night with the possibility of a blissful union with his new wife.
“But if you aren’t coming to Rivenloch, if ye won’t be there to soften the blow…” She shook her head. “I must do the honorable thing. Ye don’t know him, Merraid. Ye don’t know him like I do.”
Merraid lifted a brow at that.
“The things he said to me,” Carenza sobbed, laying a hand over her heart. “His beautiful verses. His lovely words. So honest. So true. So kind. I cannot bear the thought of deceiving him. Even for one moment.”
Shite.
The whole clever scheme of courting Carenza with verse had just blown up in Merraid’s face like one of Sung Li’s legendary fireworks.
“I know he’ll be upset,” Carenza whispered. “And I cannot blame him.”
He would be upset. But he wouldn’t hurt her. “He’d ne’er do ye harm.”
“I know,” she said. “ButI’llbe hurtinghim.And that I cannot bear.”
Merraid shook her head. What a coil. And it was partially her fault. She wished she’d never written those verses.
Carenza repeated, “Ye must come with me.”
