Page 34 of Laird of Steel
She hastened out the gate.
From the moment Merraid enticed Robbie the village chandler to the garden, she’d known exactly what she was doing. Gellir was sure to be there. It was common knowledge that his latest marriage prospect, Lady Dearbhorgaill, was obsessed with plants. In fact, most of the clan referred to her as Lady Daffodil.
She didn’t mean to actively interfere, of course. She’d taken Feiyan’s warning to heart. She only meant to keep an eye on Gellir.
Her other eye she focused on Robbie, whom she was trying valiantly to imagine as her bridegroom. Robbie was charming and quick-witted. He would make a suitable husband and an entertaining father. But she’d known him since she was a wee lass. She had trouble summoning up any feelings toward him that were more than brotherly.
Perhaps finding a husband would be a more difficult task than she anticipated. As she watched from the corner of her eye, she saw Gellir stifle a yawn while the lady droned on and on about a dead-looking vine. It gave her some satisfaction to note he was bored.
Then she returned her attention to Robbie. He’d always been pleasant to look upon. With straw-bright hair. And dancing blue eyes. He had a clever sense of humor. And an infectious laugh. He never treated her with disrespect, as some of the warriors were wont to do.
Sparks didn’t ignite in her heart when he was near. But perhaps that would happen with time. Or maybe it was best to settle for a constant, low-burning hearth instead of the kind of wild fire that flared high and out of control whenever Gellir…
She bit her lip. She wouldn’t think about Gellir. She would concentrate on Robbie. Robbie, who was light of heart and bright of smile. Not at all given to dark looks and grim scowls.
That was the moment Gellir suddenly strode up and began intimidating poor Robbie with his infamous frown and harsh inquisition.
Unfortunately, Robbie didn’t have the courage to confront Gellir.
Merraid did.
Gellir was being ridiculous. Unreasonable. In fact, if she didn’t know better, she’d say he was acting like a jealous suitor.
Of course, that wasn’t true. He was only doing what he always did. Defending her when she didn’t need it.
She didn’t mince words, letting him know.
After Robbie fled and Lady Dearbhorgaill bid Gellir a hasty farewell, they were left alone in the walled garden.
As aggravating as Gellir’s attempts to protect her were, in a way Merraid was flattered. Surely his misplaced concern for her stemmed from true friendship. It was the same way she felt about protecting him from unsuitable brides.
Yet she felt something more than friendship when she glanced up at his stormy eyes, still glittering from the thrill of chasing Robbie away. There was danger in them. Danger and intrigue.
She lowered her gaze past his flaring nostrils, settling on his wide, forbidding mouth.
Curiously, she felt no fear. Certain of his chivalry and sure he would do her no harm, Merraid found his dark looks not frightening, but fascinating.
Grim Gellir made a formidable enemy. But he was notherenemy. And that made her heart throb with strange excitement.
Surely he felt it too. The crackle of current between them. The intimate history they shared. The powerful attraction that drew them together like iron to a lodestone.
Yet she dared not let herself be drawn to him.
She reluctantly averted her gaze, fixing it on the bare branches of the apple tree.
“She’d probably prefer to cross-breed with a lily,” Gellir muttered.
“What?”
“Weren’t you going to ask me what I thought of Lady Dearbhorgaill?”
“Not…necessarily.”
“Why else did you follow me into the garden?”
“I didn’t follow ye.”
He gave her a look that said he knew better.
