Page 87 of Laird of Steel
“What is it?” Merraid had a bad feeling they’d already made mischief. “What have ye done, ye three?”
Swannoc straightened. “Ye have to understand we were tryin’ to help ye.”
“’Twas Swan’s idea,” Davy said.
Swannoc glared at him. “Tongue-wagger.”
Ede gaped at Davy. “Besides, ye were the one who set them loose.”
Davy replied, “Only because ye’re scared o’ mice.”
All three froze, glancing in horror at Merraid.
“Mice?” Merraid repeated.“Mice?”
“I said we should use kittens,” Ede said in her defense.
Davy scoffed. “Kittens? No one’s scared o’ kittens.”
“Let me see if I have this right,” Merraid said between clenched teeth. “The three o’ ye loosed mice in Lady Carenza’s chamber.”
Davy proudly announced, “’Twas mostly me. Even Swan was too skittish to pick up the wee beasties.”
Merraid blew out a determined breath. She’d have to decide their punishment later. For now, she had to go to Lady Carenza, who was no doubt standing atop her pallet, shrieking in fright.
“Out o’ my way,” she growled, elbowing the others aside to climb the stairs. “I’ll deal with ye later.”
The last thing she expected to see when she swung open Carenza’s door was the lady kneeling in the middle of the chamber, cradling one of the wee beasties in the palm of her hand.
Spotting Merraid’s tray, she murmured to the mouse, “That’s Merraid, come with breakfast. And if ye’re very good, I may give ye a wee bite.”
OfcourseLady Carenza was friendly to animals. Merraid shouldn’t be surprised. The lady was friendly to everyone. Everyone except Sir Gellir.
Merraid set the tray on the table, lowered her head, and clasped her hands before her, looking remorseful. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw three more mice skittering along the wall. One more headed toward the hearth.
“M’lady, I must apologize for Davy and Ede and Swannoc. I assure ye their mischief will be punished.”
“I fear I foiled their plot,” she said, smiling. “Ye see, I have a soft spot in my heart for wee furry creatures.” She set the mouse down on the floor. It darted off to join its three companions. “And I understand” she said, coming to her feet. “I lost my mother when I was a lass, and I was sure my father’s new wife would ruin my life. I gave her a welcome gift too,” she confided, “only mine was frogs.”
Merraid grinned at that. “Frogs?”
“Much more effective. Especially when you put them between the bedlinens.” She winked.
Merraid’s grin widened, even as her heart cracked. Damn it, she didn’t want to like Carenza. But she did. The lady was so perfect, she was even perfectly mischievous. Gellir would adore her.
Gellir wished he could adore Carenza as much as everyone else did.
Maybe it was because none of them had to wed the lady.
She had finally emerged from her sickbed. Healthy and restored. She’d murmured her thanks for the blue ribbon in her hair, though he couldn’t remember giving her such a thing.
What followed was a sennight in which they were to become acquainted before the wedding would take place.
He’d been accused of being too fierce. Unapproachable. For a warrior—a man whose greatest strengths were the depth of his courage and the might of his arm—it was hard to accept that the battle for his bride couldn’t be won by force.
But he took Merraid’s advice. He softened his manner. He did all the right things. Said all the right things. He was polite. Considerate. Gallant. Gentle.
Somehow that made things worse. Instead of cowering in fear from him, his bride dissolved into tears at the slightest show of tenderness.
