Page 73 of Laird of Steel
Of course it was good. It was inspired. All she had to do was draw on her own feelings for Gellir. Use words that would charm Lady Carenza. Express his affection in a way that was polite yet persuasive. Assure the lady she was making the right decision in marrying him. And make it rhyme.
“Aye?” he prompted.
She cleared her throat. “To see the light of love there, sweet and wise…”
“To see…the light…of love…there?”
“Sweet and wise.”
“Sweet…and…wise. Aye, I think I’ve got the pattern of the rhyme now. Don’t tell me,” he said. “And swiftly delve between your lovely thighs?”
His coarse jest was so unexpected, Merraid burst into laughter. Covering her mouth in amused horror, she gave him a punitive kick.
“Shh!” he warned.
“Ye scoundrel,” she hissed. “Now ye’ve made the next line go right out o’ my head.”
He grinned. Then he cleared his throat and whispered, “Here’s what we have so far. I long to gaze into your lovely eyes, like sparkling gems set in the midnight skies, to see the light of love there, sweet and wise…”
“Ah. And hear the tender music o’ your sighs.”
As he began writing the words, Merraid heard a muffled sound beyond the door.
“Hist!” she said, freezing. Was someone there?
They remained motionless for several moments. She heard nothing else.
“Maybe ’twas a mouse,” she breathed.
He nodded, then finished penning the line.
She began pacing again. It helped her to think.
“I long to glimpse your smile…”
He copied silently.
“So warm and bright,” she said.
She tapped her lip. What rhymed with bright? Fight? Might? Shite?
Light, she decided. “As welcome as the winter sun’s first light.”
“Ooh,” he cooed in approval. “You do have a way with words.”
She blushed. It wasn’t hard to write about love when the object of your affections was right in front of you. Gellir’s smileswerenearly as rare as winter sun. But she secretly treasured every one.
He crossed the final T and looked up. “Aye?”
“To listen to your laughter takin’ flight…”
He dipped the quill and wrote carefully. When he finished the line, he sighed. “You’re sure this is going to work?”
“O’ course.” What woman didn’t like to be wooed with words?
He nodded. “Go on.”
“Like flocks o’ sparrows,” she said, smiling at the imagery, “chasin’ off the night.”
