Chapter 8
“M arried? Ye mean to marry that mon?”
Sine stared at Farthing in surprise. It took her a moment to realize what he was saying. Her ears still rang from the sound of her chamber door slamming against the smooth stone wall when Farthing had made his abrupt entrance. She was not sure why Farthing was so upset. Custom demanded marriage to restore her honor, which Gamel had stolen when he had taken her innocence. It was not the reason she was marrying Gamel, but when she had agreed to the wedding last night she had briefly thought that it would be the one reason Farthing would approve of.
“Aye, I am to be wed to Gamel within the hour.” As she continued to brush out her hair, she kept a wary eye on Farthing, who shut the door behind him with a little less force than he had used to open it. He began to pace her room.
“Why, lass? Why?”
“Mayhaps because I was a virgin of good birth when he coerced me into his bed?”
“Aye, he owes ye the protection of his name, but he has already offered that and ye refused him.” Farthing stopped by the stool she sat on, put his hands on his trim hips, and frowned down at her. “What has happened to change your mind? Did he finally seduce ye into agreeing to marry him?”
She began to understand why Farthing was so troubled. He was afraid she was being forced to do something she did not wish to do.
“Nay,” she said, “although he might weel have succeeded in doing just that before too long. There are times when that mon could tell me that the moon is green and I would believe him. Howbeit, that blindness eventually fades away and my senses return. Of course, if he seduced me right at the altar, then I might say aye ere I kenned what I was doing.”
“Sine Catriona,” Farthing snapped, “cease that nonsense. Playing the light-witted lass willnae work with me. I ken ye far too weel. Why are ye marrying that mon?”
“I dinnae think ye will like the truth any better than ye liked the nonsense. Lady Edina reminded me that as an unwed lass I am the chattel of Arabel and Malise.”
Farthing stared at her for a moment, then viciously cursed. “Of course ye are. Aye, and that black-hearted wench holds sway o’er enough people in high places to make that a real threat.”
“How do ye ken who Arabel holds sway over?”
As Farthing abruptly recalled where he had learned of Arabel’s far-reaching grip, he murmured, “We have been watching that murderous pair and trying to learn all about them for six long years, sweeting. Now, what does Arabel’s having the legal right to ye have to do with ye suddenly deciding to wed Gamel?”
“Weel, once wed to the mon, I shall be his chattel and not Arabel’s and Malise’s.”
“Ah, I see. But it might not be enough. Neither of them would have approved the marriage.”
“True. Howbeit, they willnae find it so easy to demand my return if a husband stands in the way, a mon bound to me by the holy sanction of a priest and the law of the Church.”
“Aye,” Farthing agreed slowly. “The men Arabel would seek out to aid her in asserting her right to hold ye would undoubtedly be reluctant allies, for their allegiance was not given willingly, but threatened out of them. So, they would be quick to call a husband an impediment. They could answer her call yet rightfully say that the law prevents them from acting.”
He walked over to her bed, leaned against one of the ornately carved posts which supported the canopy, and folded his arms across his chest. “Howbeit, ye will be binding yourself to Gamel Logan for life just to escape what could easily prove to be a verra temporary threat.”
“The marriage need not be for life.”
“Dearling, he hasnae offered ye handfasting, which can last for but a year and a day. He takes ye to stand before a priest. Vows spoken before one of those holy men are vows chiseled in stone.”
Sine put down her brush and turned on the stool so that she faced Farthing squarely. “It appears that that isnae the complete truth. Lady Edina listed several reasons my marriage to Gamel need not be so verra final. For one thing, Gamel is a bastard and I am weelborn. Unkind though it is, that could weel be reason enough for a petition for an annulment to be granted. She also mentioned coercion and the fact that I am far wealthier than he is.”
“Fair enough. It could work. But would Gamel agree to such a thing?”
“He already has. I wouldnae consent to the marriage, even though it would be for my own protection, unless he swore that I could end it when my enemies were defeated.”
“I wager that agreement was hard wrung.”
“It was given reluctantly—aye.”
“And do ye believe that he will hold to that promise?”
“Aye.” She frowned. “Ye dinnae think that he is a mon of his word?” Sine found that she felt insulted over the implied slur upon Gamel.
“Oh, aye. I believe the fool is an honorable fellow, but he is also a mon of fierce passion. He may weel intend to keep his word, may be sorely shamed if he doesnae, but there is ever the chance that his passions could overrule his honor in this matter. They did at the inn.”
“Mayhaps, although there are few men who would see it so. He but tricked a lass into his bed. The fact that his actions that night still trouble him only proves that he has a deep sense of honor. Nay, whatever he may feel, he will hold to his promise. In truth, this passion he suffers could weel wane by the time we beat the Brodies, and Gamel would be fair pleased to be free of me.” Sine discovered that that thought was a painful one and inwardly shook her head over her own vagaries—she had insisted that Gamel leave her a chance to be free and then felt hurt that he might well let her take it.
“I believe he will do his utmost to try and make ye stay,” Farthing said, disrupting her musings.
Sine shrugged. “Would that be so bad, Farthing? I mean, if Gamel makes me want to be his wife, then there would be no reason to end the marriage.”
“True, if he actually makes ye want him and doesnae simply keep ye so confused that ye dinnae ken what ye want.” He walked over to her, took her by the hands, and tugged her to her feet. “There is another way to play this game.”
“Aye? What is it?”
“Marry me.” He gently enfolded her in his arms. “Ye would have the husband ye need yet not have to suffer the demands we both ken Gamel will put on ye.”
For a moment Sine just stared at Farthing. He was right. It all looked so simple, the perfect solution to her problems, but then she saw the flaw. It would not put an end to Gamel’s demands, in fact it would only increase them. Farthing was already a thorn in Gamel’s side. If she married Farthing, she dreaded to think of the turmoil that would result. She could even lose Gamel’s support in her fight and she desperately needed it. Farthing and his father did not have the power the Logans had to turn the Brodies’ reluctant allies against them. That was perhaps a very selfish reason to turn aside Farthing’s offer, but it was one she had to consider.
She was about to refuse Farthing’s generous proposal when she heard the sound of the door latch being lifted. Even as she turned her head to see who was entering her chamber, the door was suddenly thrust open so violently that it slammed against the wall again. Gamel stood in the doorway, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He wore an expression of cold fury as he glared at Farthing. Sine expected Gamel to immediately lunge for Farthing but, to her surprise, he made no such move. She wondered if Gamel was finally trying to control his animosity toward her friend.
“Might one ask what ye are doing?” Gamel’s voice was low and hoarse, anger giving it a slight tremor.
“One might,” drawled Farthing. “Then again, one might have the courtesy and the wit to see that ’tis none of his concern.”
Gamel took a step toward Farthing and Sine quickly moved to put herself between the two men. She tried frantically to think of something to say that might distract them. Forcing a smile to her lips, she held out the skirts of her rich blue gown, a gift from Lady Edina.
“Is this not the bonniest gown ye have e’er seen?” she asked.
Sine sighed when both Farthing and Gamel looked at her as if she had suddenly changed into some strange creature. It had been a foolish thing to say. She consoled herself with the fact that, idiotic or not, the statement had diverted their attention on her.
“Aye, verra bonnie,” murmured Gamel.
“Oh, curse the gown,” snapped Sine. “I just wish the pair of ye to cease snarling at each other like feral dogs.”
“Then mayhaps ye can explain what he is doing here in your bedchamber,” demanded Gamel as he strode over to Sine and tugged her away from Farthing.
“And why shouldnae he be here? What is wrong with it?” Sine glanced toward Farthing and saw him calmly leaning against the bedpost watching her and Gamel as if they were some fascinating entertainment.
“Ye shouldnae allow strange men into your bedchamber,” answered Gamel.
“Strange men? Farthing? I have just spent six years of my life sharing sleeping quarters with the mon.”
Gamel did not appreciate being reminded of that fact and glared all the harder at Farthing, who smiled back with an irritating sweetness. “The two of ye were looking verra friendly.”
“We were discussing my marriage.”
“He needed to hold ye in his arms to do that?”
“It seemed an appropriate position, considering that he was asking me to marry him .”
The moment the words were out of her mouth Sine knew it had been the wrong thing to say, at least while both men were still in the same room. Again, she quickly placed herself between them. It annoyed her when Farthing continued to act the calm observer, leaving her to tend to Gamel all on her own.
“Ye willnae marry him,” Gamel snapped, raising his clenched fists in Farthing’s direction.
“Nay, I willnae. And this foolishness is but one good reason why.”
“Foolishness? I find him in your bedchamber, holding ye in his arms, and because I question the rightness of that ye call it foolishness?”
“Aye, for that is exactly what it is. The problem of ending Arabel’s claim on me would be solved just as neatly if I were to wed Farthing as it will be when I marry ye. Howbeit, whilst Farthing’s feathers willnae be much ruffled o’er who I choose to wed, yours would be in a frenzy. And, hard as it may sound, I shall wed ye because I havenae the time or the strength to deal with an angry lover now, and I certainly cannae afford to lose the aid ye could lend me.” She wondered why Gamel suddenly looked so affronted. As distasteful as it was, she spoke only the bald truth and they both knew it.
“I believe I shall go and prepare for your wedding,” Farthing murmured. He slipped around Gamel and Sine to walk toward the door. “Gamel,” he called, pausing in the open doorway, “why do ye call our Catriona by her first name—Sine?”
“Because ye dinnae,” grumbled Gamel, too agitated to care if he sounded foolish.
“Ah, of course.” As Farthing stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him, he said, “I shall meet ye in the chapel within the hour, Sine.” The closing of the door cut off the sound of his soft chuckle.
“Ye shouldnae have told him that.” Sine grimaced when Gamel swore and slapped the bedpost. “He will pinch ye about it now.”
“He would have figured it out for himself soon enough.” Gamel turned to face her. “So, ye considered marrying Farthing instead of me?” He crossed his arms over his chest and watched her with a stern expression.
“Aye, I considered it. In many ways it would have been a more perfect solution to my problem. Farthing would have been a shield against the claims of my kinsmen, yet he would make no husbandly demands upon me. I dinnae think I am wrong in believing that whilst ye act as my shield, ye will make demands.”
He took her hand in his and slowly drew her closer to him. “Aye, I will expect ye to act the wife in all ways, even if ye plan to make the bonds last only for a wee while. And, if ye did choose Farthing, I would still seek your bed.”
“And that would create a verra difficult situation.”
“Aye. I think I would be driven to kill him.”
His voice was so cold that Sine shivered slightly. “I believe ye and Farthing hold an equal strength and skill, thus ye would probably kill each other. Which is why I shall marry ye, not him. I may not understand what causes this constant bristling dislike between the two of ye, but I see it clearly enough.”
“Then mayhaps ye will try harder to keep the mon at a distance.”
“I think not. We may not share a blood kinship, but Farthing is my kinsmon.”
“Fine. I have heard enough about that cursed Farthing for the day.” Gamel briefly wondered if his voice sounded as sulky to Sine as it did to him. “Ye do look most lovely,” he said abruptly, his voice soft and low. “This gown flatters your eyes, although they need no such enhancement. Ye should always be so weel adorned. I would be willing to make myself a pauper for the pleasure of keeping ye prettily gowned.”
Although she blushed a little with pleasure at his words, she also suffered a twinge of nervousness. Such soft words were the sort a man used to woo a woman. But Gamel already had her body and did not need to flatter her into his bed. There could be only one reason Gamel played the sweet-tongued courtier. He had already stirred her desire and claimed her body—now he sought her heart, her soul, perhaps even her mind.
For a brief moment Sine wondered if she had grown too wary, was too quick to suspect his every word and action. Then she recalled Farthing saying that Gamel might try to make her wish to remain his wife. She had responded by asking what did it matter, but it did matter. It mattered a great deal. She was still afraid that she was carrying Arabel’s bad seed, a seed that might grow into the evil that now tainted Arabel. Sine feared that she might one day turn on those she loved, and those who loved her. And worse, she thought with an inner shudder, she could pass that taint on to her children.
She was using a sponge to try and prevent any pregnancy but the fear was still there. The only sure way to prevent childbirth was abstinence and she did not have the strength to turn from the pleasure she shared with Gamel. She knew that if she did have a child, she would have to hide it from Gamel. She could not bear to see his hate when he discovered she had tainted his child with the evil carried in her blood.
That possibility meant that love was not for her, marriage was not for her, and a family was not for her. Gamel was trying to win her love and she had to fight that. She strongly suspected that she already loved the man, but she would do her best to deny it—to herself and most certainly to Gamel. She realized that she was condemning herself to a bleak and loveless future. It was enough to make her weep.
Gamel cupped her face in his hands and asked, “Why does my flattery make ye look so forlorn?”
Those soft words yanked Sine from her dark thoughts and she struggled to compose a plausible lie as she met his concerned and somewhat confused gaze. “Nay, ’tisnae your words. Any lass would find such kind words pleasing to hear. I cannae explain what ails me. Your words but made me think on all that lies ahead of us. Aye, and mayhaps a wee bit about all that has been stolen from me. Not just the gowns I might have had, for they are but fancies, but my home, family, food, and even a soft bed. I thought on how my father should be here to see me grown and adorned so prettily for my wedding.” Sine discovered that, although those were not the things she had just been thinking, they were all true; such things did sadden her and were often in her mind.
“Nothing can bring your father back, but the rest shall soon be restored to ye.” Gamel began to brush soft, warm kisses over her face. “I swear it.”
He was just touching his mouth to hers when there was a sharp rap at the door. Sine could not resist a grin when Gamel swore and abruptly released her, then strode to the door. It was flattering to have such a man become so annoyed when denied her kiss. She tried to look more serious when Gamel opened the door to admit Lady Edina.
“Ye shouldnae be here,” Edina scolded Gamel as she entered and went straight to Sine’s side. “I am verra certain that ye can find something to busy yourself with until Sine is brought down to the chapel.”
“I am breaking some unwritten law, am I?” Gamel asked, smiling faintly.
“Aye, ye are. Now away with ye.” Edina made a shooing motion with her hand. “In fact, ye can tell everyone that the bride will be on her way in but a few moments.”
“Keep a firm grip upon her, Mother. She has a disturbing habit of slinking away.”
“Slinking?” Sine cried in protest, but Gamel was gone before she could say any more. She turned to Edina. “Surely he cannae think that I would slip away now? If naught else—where would I go?”
“I wouldnae give his words another thought, child. In truth, I think it does a mon good to suffer the pangs of uncertainty from time to time. They surely make us suffer from them.”
Sine laughed but quickly grew serious again. “I suppose we may as weel go to the chapel.”
“Ye have a moment or two, lass.” Edina moved to a table beneath the narrow, shuttered window and poured Sine and herself some wine, then handed Sine a goblet. “Down it all, child. ’Twill soothe your nerves.” Edina raised her own goblet in an unspoken toast, then took a long drink before adding, “Ye may feel no need of wine now, but ye will be glad of it with each step ye take that brings ye closer to the altar.”
Twenty minutes later, Sine was able to see the wisdom of Edina’s words. As she stepped into the chapel—a small, elegant chamber crowded with the people of Duncoille—she wished she had drunk another goblet of the heady wine. Even recalling Gamel’s promise to let her end their marriage when and if she chose to did not ease the increasing tightness in her stomach. There was a small voice within her head which kept whispering that she would never be free, that the words the priest was about to speak over her and Gamel were merely the verbal affirmation of bonds which were already there. The strong possibility that the small voice was right was what truly enhanced her fears.
Farthing stepped over to her and she grasped his arm but found no real comfort in his silent support. Gamel stood down by the altar, watching and waiting for her. He looked splendid in his rich green tunic and hose, the gold embroidery on the sleeves and hem of his snug jupon glinting in the candlelight. He was a man whom any maid would hunger for and in but a few moments the priest would declare him her husband. She was not sure she would have the strength to ever give him up.
“Sine Catriona?” Farthing lightly tugged on the draped sleeves of her gown to draw her attention to him. “We had best start on our way toward the altar or your lover will think that I am holding ye back.”
The way Lady Edina kept frowning at her even as she hurried to take her seat next to William made Sine aware that her hesitation was beginning to stir the curiosity of the guests. “Aye, ye are right, Farthing.” She looped her arm through his. “I but suffered a brief fit of timidity.”
“Timidity or doubt?” he asked as he began their slow march toward the altar.
“’Tis quite acceptable for a bride to feel both upon her wedding day.” She espied Margot in the crowd and frowned slightly, for the girl was looking very sad. “Farthing? Are ye certain that your young cousin doesnae mind my marrying Gamel?”
“Quite certain. Why do ye ask about her now?”
“Weel, I am ashamed to admit that I havenae taken much time to talk to her. She was brought here to meet and, most probably, wed Gamel. Yet, only as I prepare to wed Gamel do I think on how she may feel about it. She sits to the right of us, next to your father, and looks as if she is about to weep.”
“Ah, so she does. The foolish lass pines for Martin Robertson. Although their acquaintance was verra short, she took a strong liking to the Brodies’ spy. I saw it clearly, for I kept a close watch on them until I grew confident that Margot could be trusted to keep our secrets. She will overcome the madness.”
“Mayhaps ye shouldnae discard the matter so lightly and quickly. Martin may weel suffer from a like attraction, and he isnae as black of heart as those he serves.”
“Yet he continues to serve them.”
“Once caught in the Brodies’ net, ye serve them faithfully or ye die. ’Twould take a great deal for Martin to turn against them, for he kens verra weel how they deal with those they no longer trust.”
“And ye feel that the wee Margot may be the spur to force Martin to try and break free? That the love of a good, sweet lass may make the mon try and redeem himself?”
“Ye dinnae need to sneer so,” scolded Sine. “It has happened before. Not everything the minstrels trill about is an impossibility.”
“Aye, ye are right. I will keep a close eye upon the lass. There may come some chance to reach that minion of the Brodies through her. And here stands your glowering courtier. ’Tis your last chance to flee, dearling.”
“I begin to think that there is no place left to flee to,” she whispered, and stepped away from a frowning Farthing to take hold of Gamel’s extended hand.
As she knelt beside Gamel before the aging priest, Sine suppressed an urge to bolt. She repeated her vows and listened to Gamel repeat his. There was a quiet strength and determination in Gamel’s voice as he spoke. That same force and a defiant touch of possessiveness could be felt in the way he held her hand. It was not a painful grip, but it was decisively firm and unrelenting.
Only once did she glance at his face. He was staring at her as she spoke. In his beautiful eyes was the glint of challenge. He was making a vow to himself even as he exchanged the marriage vows with her. Gamel was planning to make the marriage permanent.
Sine knew she had not been foolish in fearing the step she was taking. He would not make her retreat an easy one. It was not truly his strength she feared, but her own weakness. Somehow, despite whatever ploys he tried, she would have to retain the will to leave him, to walk away from something she desperately wanted.
Guilt became her overriding emotion when the ceremony was done and she and Gamel made their way back to the great hall of Duncoille. The congratulations of Gamel’s people were heartfelt. It was evident that the promise of freedom Gamel had made to her was known to only a few. Sine felt like the worst of deceivers.
As Sine took her place beside Gamel at the head table she was briefly distracted by the feast spread out before them. There was suckling pig, chestnut-stuffed pheasant, rabbit pie, and mutton. There was even fresh venison still turning on a spit in the huge fireplace. Bowls heaped with onions, carrots, and turnips were on every table. Sweet and savory pies filled the air with their mouthwatering scents. Such plenty was a clear sign of wealth. Only those well blessed with coin could produce such a hearty meal, especially on such short notice.
Gamel touched her arm and held her gaze as he sipped wine from a heavy pewter goblet. When he extended it to her she was forced to sip from the same place upon the goblet’s rim that he had. It was nearly impossible to break the grip of his intent stare. He touched a kiss to her mouth and the people in the great hall all cheered while she inwardly trembled. Gamel was definitely going to be a force to be reckoned with.
The celebratory feast soon became an ordeal. Sine tried to act as if she was perfectly content, but she knew that she was failing to deceive Gamel. His glances her way grew more frequent and piercing as the elaborate meal was consumed. She was heartily relieved when Lady Edina and Margot escorted her to the chambers she would share with Gamel. She was sure that she would face a confrontation with Gamel once they were alone, but she was pleased to be able to discard the false smiles and joviality.
“Lass?” Edina began to unlace the sleeves where they were attached to the armholes of Sine’s gown. “Has this made ye verra unhappy then?”
“Nay, and I am sorry if I have left everyone thinking it has.”
“Not everyone, child. ’Tis just that I am fully aware of all that brought this marriage about and watched ye more closely than others. There is something that troubles ye. Do ye wish to speak on it?”
“’Tis naught. I but feel a wee bit sorry for myself.” Sine helped to hold her hair out of the way as Margot began to unlace the bodice of her wedding gown. “’Twasnae the wedding I had always dreamed about. There are too many shadows, too many troubles and threats. I also felt as if I was the lowest of deceivers.”
“No one needs to ken the whole truth. Ye havenae deceived yourself or Gamel. ’Tis all that matters.”
“Aye. Ye are right. ’Tis our concern and no one else’s.” Sine stepped out of her gown and watched how Margot lingered over the dress as she put it away in the clothes chest, a soft melancholy expression on her oval face. “Margot, I have been callous and inconsiderate not to speak up ere now. Howbeit, I pray that ye havenae stepped aside simply because ye were too shy or too kind to speak out.”
“Nay.” Margot shook her head as she finished setting the gown in the chest and stood up. “I dinnae doubt Gamel’s worth as a husband or as a mon, but he wasnae the match for me. I but pitied myself, which is an ill thing to do. I have poor luck in the men my heart softens for. One succumbed to the plague and the other—” She quickly shut her mouth and nervously eyed Sine and Edina.
“And the other is the hireling of my enemies,” Sine finished, smiling gently when Margot flushed.
“I willnae aid him in the fight against ye. I swear it. I ken what he is and the danger he can be to ye and the twins. I am not quite as naive as some people think.”
“I believe ye. Howbeit, it couldnae hurt to try, in some small way, to aid him in freeing himself ere he is beyond saving.”
“How could I do that?”
“There would be no real danger in an exchange of letters, would there, Lady Edina?”
“Nay, none at all.” Edina helped Sine shed the last of her clothes and slip into a delicate, thin nightdress of linen and lace. “If ye speak of naught of any importance concerning Sine and her brothers or of our plans to defeat the Brodies, then it can do us no harm. It might even help us in a small way. Ye might turn his loyalties our way. Just keep in mind with each word ye put to paper that Martin Robertson is a Brodie mon. Eventually the Brodies will ken that Sine and her brothers are here and ye shall have to be e’en more wary.”
“Aye, m’lady. Martin will ne’er trick me into helping those murderers. I may not be able to stop my heart from choosing blindly, but it hasnae stolen my wits. I may weep o’er his grave but, if he continues to choose to stand with the Brodies, I willnae betray any of ye to keep him alive. Aye, and he will have to do a great deal ere I will believe that he has changed sides. Are we done here then?”
“Quite done,” answered Sine.
Lady Edina nodded. “Go and tell Gamel that he may come to Sine now.” As soon as Margot was gone Lady Edina turned to Sine and asked, “Do ye think it is worth the risk? Can we gain anything from Margot’s writing love letters to Martin Robertson?”
“Mayhaps not, but I dinnae think we shall lose anything either. I believe that Martin isnae as black of heart as those he serves. Margot could easily touch that softer side of him.”
“The Brodies may forbid it.”
“At first they will find it amusing, but once they ken that I am here, they will encourage it. They will hope to gain some information from Martin and Margot, something to use against us.”
“And ye dinnae think that they will get that from Margot?”
“Nay. Margot may not be devious or sly, she may not have what is needed to trick any secrets out of Martin, but she can keep our secrets. Ligulf kept a close watch upon the pair whilst the Brodies were here and he told me that Margot was verra good at guarding her tongue. Farthing said the same and I have great faith in his judgment on such matters. She will tell that mon nothing. I feel certain of it.”
“Aye, so do I.” Lady Edina kissed Sine’s cheek and started out of the room. “I will understand if ye end this marriage when ye are free of all of these dangers, but I do hope that ye will decide to remain Gamel’s wife.”
“I thank ye for that, Lady Edina.”
Once Lady Edina was gone, Sine made herself comfortable on the large canopied bed. She already wished that she could remain a part of the Logan family. It was all she could have hoped for if her father and Lady Seaton had not been so cruelly murdered. She sighed and tried to banish such longings from her mind and heart. Such delights were not for her, Lady Arabel Brodie’s daughter.
Gamel stepped into the room but moments after his mother had left. Sine inwardly grimaced as she watched him walk to the bed, shed his robe, and climb in beside her. He looked far too serious for an eager bridegroom. She was certain that he was going to question her on her odd mood and she dreaded having to tell more lies. In an attempt to divert his attention she turned toward him, slipped her arms about his neck, and proceeded to kiss him, savoring the taste of his fine mouth and the tickle of her awakening desire.
“I am glad we were spared the bedding ceremony,” she murmured, caressing a narrow path down his chest with her hand and watching his beautiful eyes turn a darker shade of green as his passion stirred to life.
“As ye recall, I let on that I had already bedded ye that day Farthing and I fought in the bailey. So none saw the need for it, and Mother agreed.”
“I dinnae think there are many at Duncoille who would oppose Lady Edina.”
“True, but ’tisnae out of fear. She is too often right.” He shuddered faintly and closed his eyes when she curled her long fingers around his erection and slowly stroked him. “Does this mean that your melancholia has passed?” he asked.
“’Twas but a brief sadness as I thought too much upon my own troubles and losses.” She nibbled his ear and traced its shape with her tongue. “I am sorry if my mood spoiled the feasting in any way.”
“Nay. Few noticed.” With slightly unsteady hands he unlaced her nightdress, then abruptly yanked it off her and tossed it aside. “I but wondered if ye had some new doubts.”
“Everyone has some doubts at such a time.”
“I had none.”
“I have come to realize that ye are a verra odd mon.”
Sine trembled and softly murmured her delight when he cupped her breast in his hand and lathed the tip to hardness with his tongue. She tangled the fingers of her free hand in his thick hair to hold him in place. He licked, nibbled, and suckled until she was squirming with eagerness for him. When he moved to cover her with his body, she embraced him with her legs in a gesture of invitation and welcome. She gave a soft, low moan as he eased their bodies together. He grew still and she opened her eyes to look at him, only to find him watching her with an intensity that briefly dimmed her desire.
“When ye leave me, Sine Catriona, ye will leave this behind as weel. Can ye will yourself to forget this pleasure? Can ye stop yourself from hungering for it?”
He withdrew, then returned with a measured slowness that infected her with an intense mixture of delight and frustration. “Nay, Gamel,” she whispered in an unsteady voice. “Dinnae turn this against me. ’Twould be so verra cruel.”
Gamel muttered a curse, kissed her, and rested his forehead against hers. “Aye, so it would be. But, by God’s bones, ye drive me to it, woman. Forgive me. I willnae do it again.”
She believed him and her passion returned in its full glory, racing hot and free through her body. “Aye, I forgive ye, although I dinnae think a wee bit of atonement would be amiss.” She shifted her body against his in a way that told him clearly what sort of atonement she wanted.
“’Twill be the sweetest penance I have e’er served,” he murmured, and kissed her.
Sine held him close as he began to move and she started to make the swift descent into blind passion. In her head the voices of common sense and self-preservation cried out in protest, urging her to hold back and not give so freely. Each time she and Gamel made love she lost another piece of her heart and became more enthralled, thus increasing the pain she would suffer when she had to leave him. She ignored the warnings of her inner self, pushed them aside by concentrating on the pleasure she was enjoying. Her time with Gamel was limited and she intended to savor each precious moment to its fullest.