Chapter Three #2
But when they rode through the pend of Castle Dare’s gatehouse less than an hour later, pulling up in the cold, mist-swept
bailey, some of her bravura slipped.
The tongue-waggers hadn’t lied.
Castle Dare was a gloomy rickle o’ stanes.
Menacing, too, with unusually high curtain walls and soaring machicolated towers. Gelis shivered, her nape prickling when
she caught her first glimpse of the great square keep. Its dark bulk frowned down on them, the thick walling relieved only
by the narrowest arrow-slits. Silent, weapon-hung men-at-arms clustered everywhere, their gazes assessing, their steel gleaming
in the smoking torchlight.
Like scores of unfriendly eyes, the cross-shaped arrow-slits seemed to assess her as well, their blank stares making her shiver
again. She reached to pull her cloak higher against her throat, but the instant her fingers brushed against her breasts, she
lowered her hand. Putting back her shoulders, she ignored her uneasiness and moistened her lips, wanting to look her best
when the Raven strode out to meet her.
Not for nothing had she chosen her most flattering gown, a rich emerald-green affair, its dipping front piece made even lower
by her own clever hand. Richly banded by an exquisite gold border, the bodice displayed the swell of her breasts in all their
abundance, including a very deliberate glimpse of the top rims of her nipples.
She meant to whet the Raven’s appetite, not hide her charms beneath the folds of a heavy woolen cloak.
Even if Castle Dare’s forbidding countenance did send a few chills down her spine. Lucky for her, she’d been weaned on dark
looks and scowls.
Glancing at her father, she wasn’t at all surprised to see him still looking as sour as if he’d bitten into something bitter.
“You could at least frown less fiercely.” She smiled brightly just to annoy him.
“Be glad I am only frowning.” He looked at her, his expression darkening even more. Dismounting near the keep stairs, he tossed
his reins to a stable lad. “The Raven should have been on the steps to greet you.”
Gelis gave a light shrug. “He’ll be here anon.” She made the words a statement, swinging down onto the bailey’s wet cobbles
before her father could contradict her.
Only the raven dared, staring down at her from his perch on a high turret, the piercing focus of his beady, black eyes leaving
no question of his interest in her.
His intensity and need.
Then he vanished, his sleek black form swallowed by a swirl of mist.
Her heart thumping, Gelis hitched up her skirts and started forward, mounting the stone steps to the keep with a bold swiftness
that carried her halfway up the stairs before the heavy, iron-studded door swung open and a huge, thickset man of years appeared,
a wash of yellow torchlight spilling out from behind him.
“Ho! The MacKenzies — at last!” he boomed, planting his hands on his hips as he stood looking at them.
Strong-featured and with a shock of thick, gray-streaked hair and an equally wild-looking beard, he filled the arched doorway,
his plaid thrown back to reveal a great, two-handed sword hanging at his side from a wide, elaborately tooled shoulder-belt.
“A fine e’en to you, my friends,” he added, his bearded face splitting in a grin. “Welcome to Dare. Lady Gelis” — he stepped
aside, almost losing his balance as several large, shaggy-coated dogs shot past him, bounding down the steps to greet her,
their plumed tails wagging — “you are even more sparkling than the prattle-mongers claim.”
“She is a maid beyond price.” Duncan placed a possessive hand on her elbow. “Only my honor brings her here, Valdar. As well
you know. She knows it, too.”
The older man raised a brow. “Ahhh . . . so you told her of Corryvreckan?”
Duncan nodded. “She needed to know. Why I consented as well as what dangers lurk here. She also knows I view my debt as repaid
by agreeing to this union.” Escorting her up the remaining steps, he paused on the landing, standing almost nose to nose with
his old friend. “Know that, and be wary. If any harm comes to her, I will wreak a more terrible vengeance on you than even
Maldred could have conjured.”
“Father!” Gelis could feel her face flaming. “You swore you wouldn’t —”
“Your father has your best interests at heart.” Sir Marmaduke joined them on the landing, his usually benign expression as
grim as her father’s. “There were unholy things in that glen, and leaving you here, in the midst of such terrors, is beyond
—”
“ Pah-phooey! The only terrors here are the looks on your two faces.” Gelis glared at them, aware that her own eyes were blazing,
but uncaring. “Father gave his word —”
“Whate’er I said ceased to matter when we rode into Glen Dare.” Ignoring her, he kept his gaze on Valdar. “The place is passing
strange, MacRuari. More so than I remember. I have half a mind to return to Eilean Creag now, without even entering your hall,
and my daughter with me. Honor be damned.”
“But you will not.” Valdar curled his hands around his belt and looked him up and down. “Not as I know you.”
“Perhaps he should take her back to the safety of his own keep.” A deep voice spoke from the shadows and Gelis’s Raven appeared,
the whirling mist cloaking him in a swirl of silvery-gray. “She is fair and well-dowered. Many are the men who would take
her, and gladly.” He paused. “Good men whose homes aren’t plagued by darkness.”
Gelis’s heart slammed against her ribs.
Her mouth went dry.
Every bright and airy word of greeting she’d practiced fled her mind and she could only stare, wide-eyed and speechless. His
voice spooled through her, honeyed and rich, and although he spoke from the shadows, she’d almost bet his gaze was sliding
over her. She could feel its heat scorching her. Hot and appraising, it stole like a slow-moving caress over her breasts and
then down to her hips.
She took a few deep breaths, but something inside her kept winding tighter, each whirling twist warming her more, making her
entire body tingle.
“I’m thinking Dare is too dark for her.” Her father’s voice sounded distant.
Gelis blinked, then frowned at him. “Nae, it isn’t.”
Dare was perfect and the Raven exceeded her wildest dreams. His voice alone sent silken heat spilling through her and she
could scarce breathe standing so close to him. Already she could feel his touch and imagine his kisses, hear him murmuring
love words in her ear.
“Humph.” Her father grunted. “You dinna know what’s good for you.”
“Och, but I do.” She kept her attention fixed on the Raven.
Tall and splendid, he stepped forward then, his piercing gaze now on Duncan. “Kintail, I would sooner you slay me here, where
I stand, than that I should bring harm to your daughter.” Flicking a look at Gelis, he whipped out his sword and tossed it
into the air, catching it at midblade before offering it, hilt-first, to Duncan. “I, too, have honor, sir. I will not see
it compromised.”
“ No-o-o!” Gelis flung herself between them, her arms spread wide. She stared at her father, the hot blaze in his eyes chilling
her. “Don’t you dare touch that blade!” she cried, backing up until the sword’s jeweled pommel stone jabbed into her back.
“I’m no longer your daughter if you do.”
“You are more my daughter than you know.” The fury fading from his face, Duncan shoved a hand through his hair.
Then he smiled.
A tight, uncomfortable sort of smile, but a smile all the same.
Gelis held her ground, not yet ready to cede.
Duncan looked out over the mist-hung bailey, then back at her. “Well met, lass, but rein in your temper. I gave the MacRuaris
my word and willna retract it.” Reaching around her suddenly, he seized the sword’s blade, returning it in like fashion. “Sheath
your brand, Raven, and be glad I have such a high-spirited daughter. For two bits, I would’ve run you through.”
“The devil you would have.” Valdar looked pleased, his eyes twinkling. “Never in a thousand years.”
Duncan glared at him. “I’ve been called a devil, and worse. With reason, as you ken.”
The older man threw back his head and laughed. “So you would have spilled blood on my doorstep? Ruining the feast I’ve arranged
for you? By glory, laddie, I’ll not believe it.” Still laughing, he slung an arm around Duncan, steering him through the door
arch, into the well-lit hall. “Now you see why I wanted your girl. She has your fire and passion and, I hope, a good dose
of her mother’s compassion.”
Duncan snorted at that and then the two men were gone, disappearing into the throng inside the great hall, Sir Marmaduke and
the other men in their party with them. All lured by the tempting aromas of roasting meat and wood fires, the chance to rest
weary bones and quaff well-filled cups of ale and wine.
The Raven didn’t budge.
His dark eyes narrowed on her, her world seeming to narrow even more, the whole of it closing in on her until nothing remained
but the cold, damp stone of the landing and the fierceness of his stare.
Gelis’s heart pounded, her breath coming hard and fast after the spectacle she’d made of herself. Not that she wouldn’t do
it again if need be.
She would.
Especially if her boldness earned the Raven’s favor. Something she had yet to notice.
“Do not think I would have done that for just anyone.” She searched his face, not missing the muscle working in his jaw. “My
father’s sword arm is faster than the wind, his wrath greater than thunder.”
The Raven arched a brow, annoyingly unimpressed.
Unnervingly silent.
Towering over her, he looked down at her with the same unswerving intensity as the raven on the turret. Torchlight glinted
off his golden neck torque and sleek black hair, but his face was hard as stone, his eyes unwelcoming.
“I thought you wanted this match,” she blurted, angling her chin.
“Me?” He sounded skeptical. “Lady Gelis, I was wed twice before. My second wife, God rest her soul, is barely cold in her