Chapter 3 #2
Darragh pulled her horse to the side, and although three vigilant guards remained a discreet distance from them, the rest of their party moved past them.
She waited patiently for Darragh to explain himself, but he did not seem inclined to do so.
“Well?” Her throat was tight.
He tipped his head. “Well, what?”
“Who have I offended?”
“Dear Brighit.” His defeated expression matched his tone. “Yer unhappiness does not go unnoticed.”
That caught her off-guard since she had been trying to put on a happy face for everyone. Had she failed so miserably? No. She tightened her lips.
“Ye’re being intentionally cruel. I have not broken our agreement.”
“And yet ye have not demonstrated yerself a willing bride either. Yer father is worried for ye, believing ye may never smile again.”
“Why would he believe such things? I fit in so well here.” Brighit tapped her finger to her lips as if in deep thought.
“Could it be because yer mother chooses not to control her own horse, and she apparently expects the same of me?” Irritation was riding her hard.
“I will confess to ye now. I know nothing about plants and healing and even less about preparing the pheasants after I’ve bagged one or two—but I am quite good at that. ”
Darragh threw back his head and laughed. Brighit immediately regretted sharing that last bit. The guards seemed perplexed at the outburst, though none dared approach them.
“At every turn I find ye are like no other woman of my acquaintance.”
She prayed he wouldn’t notice the redness creeping up her face.
If the prospect of having a wife ‘like no other’ resulted in him setting her aside now, her parents would be furious.
Especially if he was correct about the importance of the union between the two clans.
She had questioned some of the warriors, but none seemed willing to give her any information.
“So ye do not wish to be a wife?” Darragh’s expression had softened considerably, but his intent gaze set her heart to fluttering, that kiss immediately coming to mind.
It had been nothing like the tight-lipped peck her brother’s friend had “stolen.” That one had left her wondering what the fuss was all about.
“I… did not say that… exactly.”
“No. Ye did not.” He urged his horse nearer, close enough to touch, and covered her hand with his own. Darragh continued. “Instead, ye tell me ye believe I want a woman like my mother for a wife.”
Had she said that? “She is the perfect wife. Why would ye desire less?”
Darragh’s heated gaze swept along her length, making her heart race again.
When he faced her, his words confirmed what she’d seen in his eyes. “Desire is a strange thing.”
She wrestled with a response, something light and witty, but her mind was blank. Her body, however, became acutely attuned to him when he leaned in closer, the musky scent of him drifting to her.
“Listen closely. I have never said I wished to wed a woman like my mother.” His low voice soothed her as did his palm, sliding up her arm to slip beneath the heavy weight of her hair. His skin hot against hers. “Never.”
With a gentle tug, Darragh pulled her toward him, meeting her halfway.
His lips were persistent, his tongue sweeping out to dampen her own, making the sensation even more intense.
The urgency of it stole her breath away.
This was the kissing she remembered. The kissing she’d thought about while alone in her bed, the other lasses snoring quietly around her.
When he stopped, it took her a moment to get her senses back, to open her eyes.
“I promise ye, Brighit.” he spoke the words in the tiny space between their mouths. “My desire is for more. Much more. And I promise I will not settle for less.”
His words and his heated gaze confirmed it.
He desired her. Her! He drew her onto his lap and then slipped his hands along her sides, caressing her, and he deepened their kiss until his tongue was sparring with her own.
His desire sparked an answering fire inside her.
A need she couldn’t name. A need she wanted him to see to.
When he finally broke the intoxicating kiss, he was breathing hard. “Oh Brighit. Never believe I would compare ye to another. Ye will not be found lacking because I will teach ye the only things ye need to know.”
“Ye will teach me?” Memories of the other lasses flashed in her mind. Their disdainful expressions and the condescending comments they’d made about her attempts to clean the fall vegetables—those darn leeks. All she’d managed to do was mutilate them.
He smiled, his gaze gliding over her face and his hand caressing her cheek. “I will take great pleasure in teaching ye.”
His touch was gentle, and her eyes drifted closed before they widened when she realized what he’d said. She doubted there were any womanly chores she would find pleasant. Better she admits her shortcomings now. “I confess I never cared to learn what other woman so enjoy doing.”
“I will see that ye enjoy what I teach ye.” He nuzzled her neck, sending goose bumps along her arm. “I promise ye much enjoyment.”
Darragh pulled away and heaved a great sigh. His confident tone settled her somewhat, although she would have liked to continue with the kissing. And the touching. She didn’t like this feeling of restlessness he’d sparked in her. The guards around them had their backs respectfully turned.
“I am a good learner.” For some reason she felt the need to reassure him of this.
“Oh, I believe ye, dear Brighit.”
Brighit had the distinct impression he was truly pleased with her, barely able to contain his joy, she’d venture. But something gnawed at her.
I will teach ye the only things ye need to know.
Her hackles raised, she said, “Ye misunderstand me.”
A quirk of his brow. An expression of warning. She ignored it and pushed on.
“I do not come to ye without skills. I come without the skills of other wives. I have been well trained in hunting and trapping, in battle strategy and combat. When ye leave our túath, ye will not leave yer clan unprotected.”
“I may never be king. I may never have my own túath.
“That is of no consequence.”
“And I would never leave what I value unprotected.” His face darkened. “I cannot promise ye will be that protection.”
Brighit shrugged nonchalantly despite the feeling of having been slapped in the face. “Ye may leave who ye wish in charge, but I will not accept their protection over my own.”
“Explain.”
His angry tone forced her to swallow down her fear. She found an irritated Darragh was extremely intimidating. The guards’ darting glances assured her she was not being overly sensitive.
“If I believe one strategy is more prudent than another, I expect their obedience.” Her father was an amazing leader and he’d shared what he knew with each of his children.
“Strategy? If there is a battle to fight, my presence will not be found lacking. I command my own men.”
“But if we are attacked while ye are away, I will take the command.”
“By whose order?”
“As yer wife, they will take orders from me.”
“So ye are declaring if the warrior I leave in charge gives orders for ye to take cover, ye will refuse him?”
“If my presence will be better served by staying and fighting, then I will refuse him.”
“And if ye are with child?”
Brighit hadn’t considered that, but why should that make any difference? Unless she was too unwieldy and cumbersome to be effective in fighting. “I will approach each instance on its own merit.”
Having spoken her mind, she felt a definite sense of peace.
Mayhap it would not be so very bad to be married to this man.
If he understood she would never be satisfied doing the things his mother did, wasn’t it better for him to know what she could offer instead?
That his dark expression persisted gave her pause.
He didn’t seem inclined to either move on or say anything in response.
Discomfort nipped at her heels, but she squared her shoulders and avoided looking directly at him.
“We best join the others,” she said, then cleared her throat, waiting for the awkward moment to pass. “D'ye not agree?”
“Oh, are ye asking for my opinion now?”
“Well, I—”
“So ’tis only certain decisions ye plan to make without me?”
Brighit’s thoughts whirled like a dry leaf caught in the wind, but no response came to her.
His broad chest widened even more, and his nostrils flared. “And ye have nothing to say now?”
She tipped her nose up. “I have said my peace.”
“Yer peace?” He slapped the rump of the courser she’d been riding, and the horse headed off into the woods, following the others. The guards around them were immediately alert, but they settled when Darragh raised a commanding arm.
“Wh-what are ye about?”
“Mayhap ye need a taste of what relying on me looks like.”
“I do not believe—”
“Hold tight.” Darragh’s command sounded more like a growl. He snapped the reins on either side of her so hard, the horse’s responding gallop slammed her against his solid chest. The guards scrambled to catch up.
Unlike the last time she’d ridden with Darragh, he wrapped a firm arm about her waist, tucking her against him, so that they rose and fell as one with each gallop across the open field.
His own solid legs firm against hers. He had total command even at top speed.
Breathtaking. They were quickly heated by the ride—and so was the horse.
When Darragh finally slowed and signaled the guards to stay back, Brighit had a strong sense of trepidation, but she couldn’t deny her excitement.
It had been exhilarating to be crushed against his powerful body, feeling his great strength surrounding her. All her senses were fully aroused.
They were pressed so closely together, she could feel his heart slow as hers did the same.
He blew out a breath and said, “I will think on what ye’ve shared with me, but know this, I will not jeopardize what I’ve been given to protect even to appease ye.”
Brighit’s spirit soared with those first few words, then dropped just as quickly. “I do not look to be appeased.”
Raising his brow in that irritating way, Darragh indicated he’d said all he was going to say on the matter. How quickly she was learning his style of command. And his style of command was extremely irritating.