Page 133 of Laird of Steel
“You quoted,” Gellir choked out, “a Greek storyteller, a Macedonian tyrant, and a Roman slave?”
She smiled proudly. “I told ye Lady Feiyan spared nothin’ when it came to my learnin’.”
Gellir had to sit down. Fortunately, there was a stool near one of the pavilions. He collapsed onto it.
It was too late to prevent what had already happened. He had to think of what to do next.
He couldn’t abandon Adam. If the others discovered his secret, they’d eat him alive.
Then there was the matter of Merraid…
He looked up at her in concern.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“You can’t stay here.”
“Why?”
“’Tis too dangerous.”
“Ye don’t understand. I’ve negotiated peace ’tween the earls and the king.”
“Is that what you think?”
She looked affronted. “’Tis the truth.”
He scoffed. And immediately knew scoffing was the wrong thing to do.
She turned on him with blazing anger in her eyes and her hands on her hips. “How dare ye! Was I not the one to broker a romance ’tween ye and your bride? Did I not employ just the right words to charm her tender heart? Did I not bait the hook with just the right phrases to lure her into your arms? Did I not season each syllable with just the right touch o’ spice to keep her hungerin’ for more?” She lowered her voice to add, “Ye think I can’t broker peace ’tween a runt of a king and a half-dozen hotheaded earls?” Then she crossed her arms and shuddered with frustration. “‘O ye o’ little faith.’That’s,”she said, arching her brow at him, “from a Nazarene woodworker.”
At first he could only stare at her. She was quoting Jesus at him.
What a beautifully wild, naïve, outrageous, determined, carefree, fearless lass she was. Sweet as a flower. Clever as a fox. Generous to a fault. Wise beyond her years. Bright and bold and brimming with life.
A bemused smile slipped onto his lips as he realized the truth.
Merraid cared nothing for protocol. Proper behavior. Codes of honor. Rules of engagement. Everything she did came from her heart. From her soul. From what she knew was right. Not from what someone else had dictated.
The forthright, intrepid maidservant enjoyed a freedom he’d never tasted in a lifetime of honor, chivalry, loyalty, and responsibility. And he loved her for it.
A chuckle escaped him then.
“What?” she demanded, still miffed at him.
“I adore you, you know.”
Merraid didn’t think it was possible for a heart to both swell and crack at the same time.
Gellir’s confession filled her with warmth and joy, even as it broke her into a million shards of despair.
It meant nothing.
Even if she managed to make peace between the king and the earls, it changed nothing between her and Gellir. He was still a nobleman. She was still a maidservant.
She had come here as his friend. To salvage his honor. To save him from his self-imposed exile. Nothing more.
She couldn’t expect more. Not in a world that revolved around titles and rights, alliances and endowments. She had been born outside that world. And no matter how much training and education Lady Feiyan had so generously provided, no matter how Merraid longed to be part of Gellir’s world, Merraid would never be able to break through the imposing wall of stone that surrounded it.
