Page 40 of Laird of Steel
“The horse?”
“Lady Metylda.”
Merraid fell in beside him. “So ye’ve crossed her off the bride-to-be list?”
“Definitely.” Then he remembered how surprised he’d been to see Merraid. “By the way, how did you come to be on the road?”
He didn’t know why he’d asked that. He was fairly certain he knew. Merraid had already made it known she was looking for a husband. His cousin had undoubtedly had a hand in introducing her to eligible candidates like this merchant. A too handsome, suspiciously well-dressed, slick-tongued foreigner who could probably wrap Merraid around his finger with a carefully chosen compliment.
“Lady Feiyan wanted to introduce Lorenzo to the neighboring nobles.” She winked. “I cast the wrong lot.”
“I doubt that,” he said, looking stoically ahead. “He seems the sort of fellow who has ladies drooling about him, hanging on his every word.”
Laughter was not the reaction he expected. It was a welcome surprise.
“Is that what ye think o’ me?” she asked. “Ye don’t know me very well then. It takes more than a bonnie face to turn my head.”
“He seemed a man of fair means,” he countered.
“Nor am I much moved by wealth.”
Her answer pleased him. “Still, you can’t deny the fellow’s charm.”
“He was charmin’ enough when there was profit to be made. But his words were as empty as bubbles.”
Hearing her wisdom convinced him there was no need to defend her further against the merchant’s advances. But if others tried to take advantage of Merraid’s naiveté, her innocence, her good nature…
Gellir intended to protect her, no matter how independent she thought she was. He meant what he said. Merraid was his friend. Part of his clan.Me and mine.
As they continued along the road, Merraid mused, “Do ye suppose the two o’ them will fall in love on the way to the tailor’s?”
“Who? Lady Metylda and Lorenzo?”
“Aye.”
He furrowed his brows. “I suppose she could keep him well employed, sewing new gowns every time she rides through a puddle.”
“And he could keep her sufficiently flattered well into her dotage.”
He snickered. “She did seem to like his flattery.”
“And he liked the depth o’ her coffers.”
“My cousin’s coffers,” he corrected, “which I’ll be replenishing.”
She clucked her tongue. “Ye shouldn’t have to pay for that gown. Ye said ye tried to warn her. ’Twas her fault she ignored ye.”
“True, but I’m a man of my word. And ’tis worth the cost to be rid of her.” He scowled. “She ran that poor horse down the hill and straight into the bog, laughing all the while.”
“What kind o’ person does that?”
“Not the kind of person I wish to wed.” He shook his head. “She could have killed that horse. Hell, she could have killedherself.”
“She was very lucky ye were there.”
Merraid’s words haunted him all the way back to the keep.
It was true. Metylda would have drowned if not for him. If he hadn’t been there at the right time, the right place…
