Page 56 of Laird of Steel
Why had he allowed temptation to get the better of him?
What the devil was wrong with him?
He sighed. He should be sleeping. But he was restless.
He donned his cloak and trudged up the steps, emerging on the wall walk surrounding the courtyard. Overhead, the moon seemed like a beacon shining down on him. Illuminating his flaws. Exposing his failures. Judging him.
Why was finding a wife so difficult for him?
After all, she had to fulfill just three simple requirements.
She must be Scottish.
She must give him bairns.
And she must be of noble bloodlines.
Was that so hard?
His heart had nothing to do with the decision. It didn’t matter if she was ugly or fair. Short or tall. Brilliant or silly. Kindhearted or mean-spirited. Not really. He’d always followed the path that led him to success. Not the one that led to his heart.
Why suddenly did it matter so much to him what kind of woman he wed?
Unbidden, the image of Merraid appeared in his mind’s eye. Merraid with her teasing smile. Her merry blue eyes. Her blushing face, streaked with ash from his careless fingers.
His clamped mouth softened.
She was the woman who touched his heart.
It didn’t matter that she was a maidservant.
It didn’t matter that they had no future.
She was the one he adored.
And he was certain she felt the same way.
Why else would she follow him about, watching over him like a sentinel?
Why else would she care so much about finding him a worthy bride?
God’s eyes!Shewas a worthy bride.
She was beautiful and brilliant. Invigorating and inspiring. Clever and kind and devoted. All the things that would make her a loving wife and a perfect mother.
If only the dictates of the king didn’t require Gellir’s services as a political pawn, he wouldn’t hesitate to offer for her hand.
But then a cloud passed in front of the moon, as if to eclipse his dreams.
For one dark space of time, he gave his mind free rein. He envisioned following his heart—the king be damned—and stealing away with Merraid. He imagined kissing her again. Holding her. Caressing her. Peeling her clothes away, piece by piece. Worshiping every inch of her. Sinking into her welcome softness. Hearing her cry out in ecstasy. Celebrating his own.
For one lingering, bittersweet moment, he imagined a full life unfolding ahead of them. One with frolicking mock battles. And gentle surrenders. Swimming naked in icy lochs. Warming cups of mead by the hearth. Riding through the countryside. Stealing through the forest. Playing with children. So many children. Hundreds of kisses. Thousands of smiles.
He turned away as the cloud drifted past the face of the moon, lighting up the courtyard below.
Then he saw her.
Merraid.
