Chapter Seven #4
Her hair swung around her as she spun, and her skin almost looked as if it glistened in the moonlight.
She was the most beautiful lass he had ever seen, and the most perplexing he had ever met.
Suddenly, she stopped spinning and threw back her head to howl at the moon.
A smile tugged at his lips as he soaked up the sight that was so carefree and enticing.
Masie joined in immediately, and the sound of mistress and hound carried through the gardens.
Something stirred in Rory’s chest that felt deeper than mere desire.
The howling stopped as abruptly as it had begun, replaced by breathless laughter as Lillith continued to spin. “The stars are dancing,” she announced, her words slurring more heavily now. “Everything is dancing—”
Her foot caught on Masie, who had circled too close, and Lillith pitched forward with a startled cry.
Rory dropped the torch he’d been holding to guide their way into the snow, and he moved without thinking, closing the distance between them in three long strides to catch her before she hit the frozen ground.
She landed against his chest with enough force to knock a soft “oof” from his lungs. His arms wrapped around her waist, steadying her, and suddenly they were pressed together, her face a hairsbreadth from his own. Her breath, sweet with mead, mingled with his in the cold air between them.
“Ye caught me,” she murmured, sounding surprised and something else—something that made his heart hammer against his ribs.
“Aye,” Rory replied, his voice rougher than he intended. “I did.”
Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and that was all it took. He lowered his head and captured her lips with his own, half-expecting her to pull away, and sharply remind him that she had no intention of becoming his bride.
Instead, Lillith melted against him, her arms twining around his neck as she returned his kiss with a passion that stole the breath from his lungs.
She tasted of mead and something sweeter, and when she made a mewling sound of pleasure, he pulled her closer, wanting to deepen the kiss and explore her mouth.
He slid one hand into the silken strands of her hair, and his other hand went to the delicate curve of her back.
He ran his tongue over the crease of her lips, hoping she’d open for him, and when she did, he felt he’d won the most crucial battle of his life.
Their tongues twined, and his blood seared through his veins.
Everything around him narrowed to her—the warmth of her mouth, the heather that clung to her, her soft body pressed willingly and eagerly to his.
She was not biddable. She was fire, and he was drawn to her flame.
Then, as suddenly as she had surrendered to the kiss, she pulled back. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted in surprise—at him or herself, he could not tell.
“The garden is spinning,” she whispered, her voice faint and confused. “Everything is—”
“Well, this is an interesting development,” a voice remarked from behind them.
“Grandmama!” Lillith chirped. “The ground is tilting!”
Rory turned to find Marion MacLeod standing at the edge of the garden, wrapped in a heavy woolen cloak.
Her expression was more curious than outraged, which Rory took as a promising sign that he would not be standing in the solar soon, listening to Royce MacLeod bellow at him for kissing his daughter.
“I think I may faint,” Lillith announced, sounding amused about it.
Rory quickly swept her off her feet and into his arms, to which she responded by grinning at him before laying her head on his shoulders and closing her eyes. “I’m so tired,” she said, before taking three deep breaths.
Rory met Lady MacLeod’s gaze. “I think the mead has gotten to her.”
“Clearly,” Lillith’s grandmama said, then waved a hand at him. “Follow me. It will not do for her to be seen in this state. We’ll take her to her bedchamber, if you do not mind aiding me?”
“Nae at all.” He rather enjoyed having Lillith pressed so close to him.
Lady Marion chuckled at that and gave him a long, scrutinizing look before she nodded, as if deciding something.
She turned on her heel and led him along a narrow path that skirted the main building of the castle, eventually reaching a small door that opened onto a servants’ stairway.
They climbed in silence, save for the soft snoring now coming from Lillith, until they reached a corridor Rory recognized as being near the family’s private chambers.
“Her room is there,” Lady Marion said, indicating a heavy oak door at the end of the corridor.
Rory followed Lady Marion to the door and then entered the bedchamber after Lillith’s grandmama.
The room was warm with a fire crackling in the hearth, and he moved toward the bed to gently lay Lillith down.
Her eyes fluttered open for one moment, and when she looked at him and smiled, his chest tightened.
Then, she closed her eyes, turned on her side, and curled into a ball as Masie jumped on the bed beside her and nestled into the crook of Lillith’s legs.
There was a blanket at the bottom of the bed, and Rory drew it up over Lillith and tucked it around her chin before brushing her hair back from her face. She looked so fragile in sleep that protectiveness rose in him.
When he turned around, he found Lady Marion watching him with an expression that mixed surprise with something that might have been satisfaction.
“You want her,” she said. It was not a question.
“I think I do,” he replied honestly. Despite her shooting him, despite her sharp tongue and fierce independence—or perhaps because of those things—he found himself drawn to her in a way he could neither explain nor deny.
Marion tilted her head, surveying him. “I will not endorse the marriage unless she chooses you, too.”
“I understand,” he said, thinking he truly did. Lady Marion seemed a formidable woman from what he’d seen so far.
“My son promised the lasses they could wed for love.”
He felt his eyes widen at that. “I see.”
“Lenora loves another,” Lady Marion said into the silence.
Rory did not feel the slightest bit of disappointment. “I’m happy for the lass.”
Lady Marion smiled at that.
“Lillith tells me she does not wish to wed,” Rory stated, hoping to glean the reason.
A troubled look settled upon Lady Marion’s face. “Yes, she’d long said so. She claims she wishes to be a warrior.”
“Ye do nae approve?” he asked.
“If that’s what she really wants, she could be wife and a warrior, but I think it’s an excuse.”
“To avoid wedding?”
Lady Marion nodded.
He opened his mouth to ask why, but Lady Marion spoke. “I don’t know why. I wish I did. I suppose now that will be up to you to figure out. Come.” She turned and moved out the door.
He looked to Lillith, and a peace settled over him. He barely knew her, and yet he thought he knew; it had to be her. He closed the door softly behind him and stood face to face with her grandmama. “She’ll fight you on this, so I would ask that you are sure.”
He nodded. “I do believe I am.” He did want to speak to his da, but there was no need to bring that up to Lady Marion.
Lady Marion patted him on the shoulder. “If you win her heart, you have my blessing.”
“And if I do nae?”
“I will continue the war for her right to choose.”
He frowned. “Continue it?”
Lady Marion nodded. “Unfortunately, yes. This edict has split our household—the women against the men.”
“Ye’re quarrelling with yer husband, and the other women are as well?”
“Yes, but don’t look so taken aback. Husbands and wives quarrel occasionally, and then they make up, and that part makes it worth it.”
Chuckling, she turned and left him there to ponder the night, the change in himself, and all he realized he did not honestly know about marriage.