Page 121 of Laird of Steel
Her eyes widened. She staggered, nearly falling before he caught her.
“Och, m’laird!” She scrambled back out of his grasp, hastily untucked her hiked skirts, and bobbed a curtsey. “Forgive me. I didn’t see ye there.”
He shrugged, as if dodging lethal kicks was something he did every day. “I didn’t mean to be seen.”
Merraid didn’t know what to say to that. But she was horrified that, for the second time in two days, one of Gellir’s siblings had managed to sneak up on her. Stealth seemed to be a trait innate to the Rivenlochs.
He nodded at her. “You’ve been learning from Feiyan.”
“Aye, m’laird.” Belatedly, she realized why he’d managed to so skilfully evade her kick. Like Feiyan, he was the child of Lady Miriel, Sung Li’s prize student. “Do ye knowtaijiquan?”
“Not much,” he admitted with a one-sided smile. “Just enough to duck. And please don’t call me ‘my laird.’ The last time we met, I was a rat-catcher.”
She couldn’t help but grin at that. “Did ye want somethin’?”
He sighed and ambled over to the parapet to gaze out at the firth. “Only to get away from the chaos in the courtyard.”
“What’s happenin’?”
He raised a brow. “The missive from Gellir?”
“Oh.” She lowered her eyes. “Aye.”
“Do you believe it?” he asked, still staring into the distance. “Do you believe he left to wander the countryside?”
She hesitated. How honest could she be with him? His expression was inscrutable.
“Nay,” she breathed.
“Neither do I.”
A forbidden thrill went through her, as if they shared a secret.
He continued. “Gellir would never defy the king like that.”
“Nor abandon his bride.”
“Right.” He sniffed. “So what are we to do?”
“We?”
“You care about him, aye?”
Bloody hell. Did everyone in the Rivenloch clan know she had feelings for Gellir? Did they all have the sight, or were they just a brood of rumor-mongering wagtongues?
She gave him a reluctant nod.
“So you must be planning something,” he reasoned.
She chewed thoughtfully at her lip. Should she trust him? What she schemed was a serious undertaking. One that could have dire consequences. She didn’t want to put anyone else at risk. Still, it might be wise to have someone who was aware of her intentions, in case things went awry.
“If I tell ye,” she decided, “will ye swear not to tell another soul?”
“If you wish.”
She gulped. Imagining was one thing. Saying it out loud was another. “I’m goin’ to Toulouse to beg an audience with the king. And I’m goin’ to fight for Gellir’s honor.”
He arched a surprised brow.
