Page 14 of Laird of Steel
Feiyan’s chamber looked more like a private armory than a lady’s sitting room. There were the requisite chairs and even a plate of sweetmeats on the table. But on the wall opposite the east-facing window hung a collection of exotic weapons from the Orient. Curved blades. Steel stars. Sharpened forks.
“You summoned me?” He sauntered toward the dish of sweetmeats and popped one into his mouth.
Feiyan frowned as she scanned him from head to toe. “You haven’t bathed yet.”
“I’ve been busy,” he said, chewing the sugary treat. “By the way, when I asked you to look after Merraid, I didn’t mean for you to teach her to fight.”
Feiyan shrugged. “I don’t have time to watch over every maidservant. ’Twas the best way to protect her.”
He grunted.
She waved away his conversation. “Look, I’ve invited a guest for supper. You should look your best.”
He stopped chewing and lowered his brows. “A guest?”
“A marriage prospect.”
He choked on the sweetmeat. Between coughs, he ground out, “Well, you’ve certainly wasted no time.”
She clapped him on the back, which did absolutely no good. “There’s no time to waste. Who knows how soon the king will make his move? You should secure a wife as soon as possible.”
He glowered. But he supposed she was right. “Who is this prospect?”
“Her name is Lady Forveleth. She’s the daughter of Laird Aengus mac Donald of Maybole, just south of here. She’s quite lovely. Of an appropriate age. According to Dame Joan, she—”
“Dame Joan?”
“Joan is my…well…she knows everything. She keeps me abreast of the town gossip.”
Gellir sighed. Women were curious, scheming creatures.
He ambled to the hearth and picked up the poker to jab the glowing embers to life.
“Anyway, Joan said if you don’t care for Forveleth, she can send word to Lady Godit. Lady Godit is unfortunately pox-scarred and a bit long in the tooth. But she’s newly widowed and comes with a considerable fortune.”
“Which I don’t need.”
“Which you don’t need. But there’s no point in turning it away if you like her well enough. Then, if Lady Godit is unappealing, Joan knows of a third—”
“There’s no need for a third,” he said, replacing the poker. “I’ll take the first willing maid.”
Feiyan scoffed at that. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re going to be chained to the lass for a lifetime. ’Tis bad enough you have to make a swift decision. At least examine a few options.”
“I’ve always known mine would be an arranged marriage. I expect no more. As long as the lass can give me bairns, it doesn’t much matter what she looks like or how much coin she has.”
Feiyan let out a simmering sigh of frustration. “I swear you’d take more care in choosing a sword than a wife.”
“Is that so strange?” He shrugged. “My veryliferelies upon a good sword. One that stands ready to defend me. Sharp. Trusty. Strong. True. A tool fitted so well to my hand that I don’t know where one ends and the other begins.”
“Like a good wife.” Feiyan arched a brow.
Gellir arched a brow back at her. Feiyan only thought that because she’d had the luxury of wedding out of love. She and Dougal had a marriage based on mutual respect and affection. They were lucky.
But when you were the firstborn son of a laird and a warrior without peer, your fate was not your own.
“In any event,” Feiyan said, “your prospect deserves to meet a bridegroom who doesn’t smell like horse sweat. I’ll have water heated and a tub brought up. You can bathe here.”
After she left, Gellir stared into the fire a long while.
