Page 106 of Laird of Steel
“Nay,” he grunted.
Merraid made no reply. But he noted the tense twisting of her mouth as she ran her fingers over the various daggers and shackles and flails on the wall. She was displeased.
“Hear me, Merraid.” As he spoke the words, he engraved the plans into his mind. “In another hour, the deed will be done. Carenza and I will be wedded. I will consummate the marriage. Here. Tonight. As is my right. On the morrow, my bride and I will leave for Rivenloch. Alone.”
“But—”
“Nay.” He held up a hand. “That’s final.”
It would be so much easier to say aye. It was what his bride wanted. It was what Merraid wanted. But he knew better. Merraid’s proximity would lead to nothing but dishonor and disaster. He had to stay firm. No matter how alluring the proposition was.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Merraid pull a halberd away from the wall to inspect it.
“What if I told ye she doesn’t intend to swive ye tonight?”
The fire popped, as startled as he. “What?”
“She might not,” she said with a shrug, replacing the halberd.
“She will. She’ll be my wife. ’Tis my right.”
“Ye’d take her against her will?”
“Are you so certain ’twill be against her will?” He closed his eyes to smoky slits.
She blinked and averted her gaze, fumbling with the shackles hung on the wall.
“What if I said she was…in her monthly courses?” she asked.
He crossed his arms over his chest in challenge. “Is she?”
She hesitated long enough to make him doubt her claim.
“All I know is,” she finally blurted, “she doesn’t want ye to bed her tonight.”
He furrowed his brows, staring hard at her. There was a glimmer of desperation in her gaze. A reckless prayer of hope on her trembling lips. Desire casting a sinful shadow on her soul. Now he understood.
“Nay,” he said softly, “I think ’tisyouwho doesn’t want to me to bed her.”
By the crease in her brow, he saw he’d hit upon the truth.
But she denied it. “Don’t be ridiculous!” she hissed. “Ye’re marryin’ a great lady. One the whole clan adores. What kind of a friend would I be to ruin that?”
He gave her a tender smile. “The kind who would do whatever it took to make sure I was happy.”
She gulped. Then she came near. Looked up at him with liquid blue eyes. Gave him a faltering smile that was sad and beautiful and caring. “I do care for ye. And I want ye to be happy. But ye must believe me when I say I want her to be happy as well.” She placed one hand on his chest and whispered, “Is there truly no way I can change your mind?”
Beneath her hand, his heart beat like a prisoner pounding to be free. The truth struck him with the force of a battering ram.
Bloody hell.Thiswas the woman who made him happy. The woman he loved. This fresh-faced, fiery-haired, foul-mouthed runt of a maidservant.
Shewas the one who made his heart race.
Who left him breathless.
Who held his joy in the palm of her hand.
But it was not to be.
