Chapter 6
Six
“What are you doing?” Ewan asked as Nora came up to him with a peculiar impish look on her face. The look was so out of character that it made the hair on the back of his neck rise.
She handed him her lute. “You said you would teach me to play. I would like another lesson.”
He took the instrument from her hand, then she sat down next to him.
Close to him.
He tried not to notice the happy glint in her eyes. The way tendrils of her blond hair fell around her face as she lowered her brat to watch him.
She was a great beauty. One that made him burn for her.
Even now he could taste her innocent kiss, remember the sensation of her warm breath on his face.
The way she had looked when she had told him that he kissed well...
It set fire to his blood. His heart pounded and he felt oddly dazed, as if her presence alone intoxicated him. Made him lightheaded and happy.
No woman had ever made him feel like this.
Not even Isobail.
Isobail had only aroused his body. At the time he’d been too young and inexperienced to understand the difference between love and lust.
What he felt for Nora was entirely different. He actually liked the lass. Liked spending time with her, listening to her unique ideas and endless stories.
On some level, she soothed him.
He took her left hand and moved her fingers into position as he showed her the first three chords to his mother’s favorite ballad.
“You’re very good at teaching,” Bavel said from across the fire.
“Yes, he is,” Nora agreed.
Unused to praise, Ewan cleared his throat and showed her another bar. “A teacher is only as good as his student.”
She smiled up at him.
Enchanted, Ewan couldn’t take his eyes off her face. Her skin was so smooth and perfect. Her eyes clear and bright. Her lips, red and plump, were made for long, hot kisses. For driving a man wild with desire.
And she was definitely doing that to him now. He felt reckless and somehow free. Wanting her no matter the rational arguments. Her presence took him past sanity and reason.
It took him straight into the realm of fantasy where anything was possible. Where there was no past to torment him. No future to fear.
There was only the two of them and nothing else mattered.
He had to get away from her. Quickly before anymore of his will crumbled.
Moving back so that he was no longer near her and the danger she posed, he nodded at her progress. “Just keep practicing those chords and I’ll teach you more later.”
While she strummed, Bavel went to fetch his own lute.
“You play your three chords, Nora,” he said as he returned to his seat.
As she did so, he composed music to go with hers.
Catarina came forward, clapping her hands in time to their song.
Ewan sat back, listening and watching.
Nora’s amber eyes danced with happiness, her cheeks were flushed. No doubt she was enjoying her small part in the harmony. The heightened color looked good in her face, making Ewan wonder what she would look like while fired with passion.
He ground his teeth and looked away, unable to think those thoughts. Unwilling to let his mind ponder the delicacy he knew she would be.
Closing his eyes, he swore he could already taste the salty-sweet flavor of her skin. Feel her warm and welcoming in his arms...
What would it be like to lie with her?
Nora smiled at Bavel as she played. She’d never had a night like this one in her entire life. She was making music. Real music!
Ewan sat across from her, his presence electrifying while Catarina began to dance to the music they made.
Lysander produced a drum that he used to mark the beats of Catarina’s movements. Nora was impressed with Catarina’s exotic and wild dance until she happened to glance over to Ewan who watched the woman as if transfixed by her.
He reminded her of a hungry wolf watching over a hen it wanted to gobble up.
For the first time in her life, she felt a vicious stab of jealousy.
How dare he look at Catarina like that! Like he wanted to kiss her or do something more.
He wasn’t supposed to look at her.
Nor was he supposed to make Nora feel hot and nervous when he sat near her. Yet he did all those things and more.
Needing to distract him from Catarina, Nora handed Ewan her lute. “Would you like to play?”
He shook his head. “Nay.”
“Oh come now,” Viktor said. “Play a song if you’re able.”
“No, really,” Ewan insisted. “I’ve never played before an audience.”
“I should like to hear you play,” Catarina said, her voice low and sultry.
Nora frowned at the suggestive tone.
“Very well then,” Ewan said, setting the lute in his lap.
Now Nora was truly upset. He wouldn’t play when she asked him to, but he played for Catarina?
He was an evil man!
The men began to play a fast-paced tune, one that allowed Catarina to dance like Salome. Only it wasn’t Ewan’s head the woman was after, Nora was sure of that.
Och now, how could Catarina be like this after their discussion? The woman was a Judas. A tall, dark-haired, beautiful Judas who might tempt Ewan away from...
Me.
The single syllable hung in her mind.
It was true. She liked Ewan. More than she should and the thought of him with Catarina was enough to make her want to do something vicious to the woman.
But he didn’t belong to her. He wasn’t hers to control and she had no right to tell him who he could and couldn’t stare after.
Who he could desire...
Ewan could never be hers.
He wasn’t what she wanted for a spouse.
Why, he’d be just like her father, belching about the table, always off and practicing his sword. Gathering his friends around for boisterous nights of boasting and drinking while they retold the same boring stories over and over again.
She’d spent her life watching her graceful, dainty mother being dogged by her much larger father who would scarce let the poor woman out of his sight. He was always making loud demands for her mother’s time. Wanting her to partake of his less than refined activities such as watching him fight.
She couldn’t count the times her father had whisked her mother up in his arms and carried her to their chambers while her mother protested, telling him she had duties to attend.
And did he listen?
Nay, never.
While her mother preferred to speak softly, her father bellowed. Her mother loved poetry and music, her father liked caber tossing and stag hunting.
Nora had never seen two more mismatched people in her life. And while her father was a good man with a caring heart, he and her mother had nothing in common.
Why, they scarce spoke to one another. Her father demanded and her mother nodded.
Nora wanted more out of her husband than that. She dreamed of a man who could talk to her about science. One who could keep up his side of the conversation and not get irritable because she was asking too many questions.
There was nothing wrong with questions. But her endless inquisitiveness oft made her father lose his patience and order her from the hall.
“I love you, Nora-child, but one more word from you, lass, and I swear my humble brain will boil over until I’m as empty-pated as old Seamus. Now get to your room and give me peace afore I lock you in there for the rest of eternity.”
Nora winced at the words she had heard countless times.
Ewan was her father all over, she was sure of it. The only difference was their appearance. Her father was short and blond, not gargantuan and dark.
But inside, they might as well be the same man.
Yet as she watched Ewan play, she noted something odd about him. His eyes were brighter than they had been before. The corners of his lips turned up, almost as if to smile.
He loved music as much as her father despised it.
That was a little common ground between them. Something the two of them shared.
Och lass, what are you thinking?
You tie yourself to a man such as he and you’ll be gone forever.
Marriage was only good for the man. The woman lost all sense of herself. She became lady to his lordship. Forever docile to him. Forever deferring to him.
Just like her mother.
She didn’t want that. She wanted her own life, just like her aunt Eleanor.
Eleanor answered to no man. She did as she pleased and lived her life to the fullest. She, alone, made Henry, King of England, bend to her will.
Aunt Eleanor was her ideal.
Aye, Nora not only wanted to be named for her aunt, she wanted to be her. Powerful. Decisive.
A woman in charge of her own destiny.
Catarina twirled around the fire, then held her hand out to Nora. “Care to dance?”
Nora hesitated for only an instant. “Show me how?”
Catarina pulled her to her feet, then raised her skirt up so that Nora could watch her feet.
Nora followed her carefully while the men played.
“You look as if you have gypsy blood in you, little Nora,” Viktor said as he smiled at her attempts to duplicate Catarina’s movements.
Nora returned his smile, pleased by his praise. But she knew she was no match for Catarina who moved as if she were one with the music.
Catarina led her around in a twirling bit of dance.
Nora glanced to Ewan, then swallowed. He wasn’t looking at Catarina anymore, he was staring at her.
With searing heat.
With hunger.
With need.
It made her burn. Imagine him looking at her like that. She wouldn’t have thought it possible.
Yet he did.
And that look...
It made her feel womanly and beautiful. For the first time in her life, she understood passion and desire.
Ewan was magnetic and powerful, and his need for her was so intense that it was virtually tangible.
Unaware of why Nora had stopped moving, Catarina grabbed her hands and whirled her around again. And even though she danced, Nora’s gaze continually went back to Ewan and the heat of his eyes that burned through her.
After they had finished the dance and music, Catarina and Nora cleaned up the mess from supper. The men packed away the instruments and made pallets for everyone.
Catarina was putting away the pot when she met Nora’s bemused stare.
“For a woman not interested in Ewan, my lady, you certainly looked ready to kill me over the fact he was paying attention to my dance earlier.”