Page 124 of Laird of Smoke
Nay, the only way to keep her out of peril was to stay by her side, to accompany her on whatever thorny mission she was on.
Then, when the time came to shield her from real danger, he’d have to waylay her.It would require deceit.Betrayal of her trust.
In the end, it would be worth it to keep her safe.But would their love be strong enough to endure such betrayal?
He wondered.
Her eyes lit up.“We’ll go back then?And search for the king?”
“On one condition,” he told her.“If by some miracle, we find him, and we’re granted an audience…”
“Aye?”
“We’ll ask him to marry us.”
This time Eve’s gasp of shock sounded genuine.She blinked, baffled.“Ye mean it?”
He nodded.
“But…ye don’t e’en know who I am.”
He gave her a tender smile.“I know who ye are,” he said, reaching out to place his fingertips over her heart, “in here.”
Eve’s throat thickened as she returned a trembling smile.
Did he mean that?Did he truly not care who she was?Or was Adam such a loyal vassal to the king that Malcolm would allow him to wed whomever he willed?
She supposed it wasn’t out of the question.After all, the king had approved the marriage between Sir Gellir and a maidservant.But as far as Adam knew, Eve was an outlaw.Certainly a line had to be drawn somewhere.
And if he was so sure of their love, why wouldn’t he tell her who he was?
Of course, she realized.She already knew the answer to that.
Adam was spying for the king.
He couldn’t tell her who he was, because knowing might endanger both their lives.
She followed him down the path with newfound understanding and respect.He was a man of his word, and he’d sworn not to disclose his mission.It followed then that he would keep his word when it came to his promise to her.
Eve daydreamed as they walked through the woods.She imagined the beautiful wedding they’d have.At her father’s humble keep with all her friends and clan?Or at the magnificent castle of Rivenloch with glorious warrior maids and knights in polished armor?
She didn’t care, as long as Adam was by her side.
She would wear her beautiful scarlet gown.
Nay, she remembered, she’d left it at the byre with Carenza.There might not be an opportunity to fetch it.
Lady Hilda’s azure brocade gown would have been stunning.But it was soaked with blood.
Maybe her father would be so glad to see her wed to a Rivenloch, he’d commission new wedding attire for her.Of course, it would have to be tasteful and meaningful.
Perhaps one in emerald silk embroidered with the flowers and birds and woodland creatures the two of them had encountered in their travels.
Or a modest fawn-colored linen to reflect Eve’s years of pious good works.
Brilliant lapis lazuli skirts sewn with gemstones to impress her new clan.
Or something in soft peach-colored velvet to tempt her bridegroom.
