Chapter 5
Strolling through the garden, Gellir fought to appear fascinated by Lady Dearbhorgaill, his latest bride offering, as she lectured on the plants they passed.
But it was a losing battle. The lady had an intimate knowledge of every characteristic of every species they encountered.
And she seemed determined to bestow that information upon him. Whether he wanted it or not.
He did not.
And the problem was made worse by the fact that something far more intriguing was happening just beyond the lady’s shoulder.
He nodded as she rattled on about the propagation of lilies. But he let his eyes drift to the couple conversing beneath the apple tree.
The woman was Merraid. She’d removed her usual apron, revealing a plain blue kirtle that clung to her curves in a most provocative way.
She was toying with the end of her marigold braid, which draped gracefully over one shoulder.
As he watched, she smiled and dipped her eyes in gentle humor at something the man said.
Who was the rogue with her?
Gellir didn’t know. But he didn’t like him. The scoundrel was standing too close to Merraid. Cocking his blond head with interest. Grinning too broadly. A grin that showed off a row of white teeth that gleamed like a wolf’s.
“Don’t ye agree?” Lady Dearbhorgaill asked.
Gellir snapped his gaze back. He had no idea what she’d just asked him, so he mumbled in the affirmative.
Lady Dearbhorgaill beamed at him. “Then ye’ll build a specularium to accommodate my experiments? How marvelous! I’ll be able to study propagation of my lilies all the year round. Even in the chill of winter.” She coyly lowered her eyes and amended the request. “That is, if we marry.”
“Marry? Well. That is yet to be…”
What was he agreeing to?
And what kind of nonsense was that cocky rogue whispering in Merraid’s ear?
Lady Dearbhorgaill clasped her hands dreamily together beneath her chin. “I could spend hours trimming roots, cutting stems, dividing bulbs…”
Why was Merraid not kicking the man in the ballocks for his impropriety? Did she feel somehow threatened by him? Was he threatening her?
He glowered.
Unfortunately, Lady Dearbhorgaill thought his frown was for her.
“O’ course I wouldn’t spend all my hours in the specularium,” she said hastily. “I know in the past I’ve been accused o’ bein’ too singleminded in my flora pursuits. But I assure ye once we’re wed, I’ll…make time to be a good wife and mother to—”
“Will you excuse me a moment?”
He didn’t wait for her reply. With a deep breath and clenched fists, he edged past Lady Dearbhorgaill. He marched toward Merraid, who was giggling now at whatever the man had said.
“What’s going on here?” he bellowed, startling them.
The man’s grin instantly disappeared. “N-naught, m’lord.”
“Do you have business with this woman?”
The man blinked in confusion. “Business, m’lord?”
Gellir crossed smug arms over his chest. “Do you have any reason at all for engaging with her?”
“I…I…” he stammered.
He thought not. And he was just about to congratulate himself for coming to Merraid’s rescue when she snarled and gave him a great shove.
He staggered back. “What the…?”
“Ye overweenin’ arse,” she spat. “What are ye tryin’ to do?”
Both men were stunned. Gellir couldn’t even summon up a reply.
“Never mind him, Robbie,” she said to the man. “Go on with your tale.”
But it was clear from the way Robbie was nervously licking his lips, he wasn’t going to go on with his tale. In fact, he was probably going to go home with his tail betwixt his legs. Grim Gellir had that quelling effect on people.
“That’s fine,” Robbie said with an uneasy smile. “’Twasn’t all that interestin’ anyway. I’ll be seein’ ye, Mer-, m’lady.” He gave her a brisk nod and hurried out through the garden gate.
At the slam of the gate, Merraid rounded on Gellir. “What was that all about?”
Gellir straightened. “I might ask you the same thing.”
“And I’d say ’twas none o’ your affair.”
“Is that so?” He narrowed his eyes. “I happen to know how men think. I know what they’re capable of. And I’m not going to stand idly by while a cunning knave takes advantage—”
“Takes advantage?” she said with a bark of a laugh. “Do ye honestly think I’d let a man take advantage o’ me?”
Gellir had tasted firsthand Merraid’s ability to defend herself against attackers. But not all attacks were frontal. Some were insidious. Some came from unexpected quarters. Some came in the form of grinning, handsome youths with silver tongues.
But he couldn’t explain that to her, any more than he could describe why he felt particularly protective where she was concerned.
From behind him, a voice called out, “Is everything all right, Gellir?”
He winced. He’d forgotten about Lady Dearbhorgaill. “Aye, m’lady,” he called back. “Another moment.” Then he turned to Merraid. “You’re…my friend. ’Tis my duty—and my honor—to lend you my protection. Do not ask me to abandon chivalry.”
He gave her a satisfied nod and strode towards Lady Dearbhorgaill, who was clandestinely digging in the dirt. He was sure he’d won the argument until Merraid called out, “And how do ye think ye’ll protect me when ye’re back home, a hundred miles from here?”
He stopped in his tracks. That was something he hadn’t considered. Something he didn’t want to consider.
Lady Dearbhorgaill popped up, her eyes wide. “A hundred miles from here? Is this not your home?”
“’Tis my cousin’s keep. I live in the east, in the Lowlands.”
“The Lowlands.” The lady shuddered. Then she began shaking her head and worrying her hands.
“Sweet Mary, that won’t do. T’wont do at all, don’t ye see?
The climate is completely different. All my studies have been in the west. Och nay, I don’t see how this can possibly work out.
” She continued muttering to herself, finally finishing with a sigh.
“I thank ye so much for the lovely morn, m’lord,” she said, coming forward to offer her hand.
“But I fear we are incompatible.” She brightened as she thought of a floral comparison.
“Like marigolds and cabbage. Perfectly fine plants on their own, but alas…” She shrugged.
Then she bustled past him, nodding at Merraid. “So sorry.”
She hastened out the gate.
From the moment Merraid enticed Robbie the village chandler to the garden, she’d known exactly what she was doing.
Gellir was sure to be there. It was common knowledge that his latest marriage prospect, Lady Dearbhorgaill, was obsessed with plants.
In fact, most of the clan referred to her as Lady Daffodil.
She didn’t mean to actively interfere, of course. She’d taken Feiyan’s warning to heart. She only meant to keep an eye on Gellir.
Her other eye she focused on Robbie, whom she was trying valiantly to imagine as her bridegroom.
Robbie was charming and quick-witted. He would make a suitable husband and an entertaining father.
But she’d known him since she was a wee lass.
She had trouble summoning up any feelings toward him that were more than brotherly.
Perhaps finding a husband would be a more difficult task than she anticipated. As she watched from the corner of her eye, she saw Gellir stifle a yawn while the lady droned on and on about a dead-looking vine. It gave her some satisfaction to note he was bored.
Then she returned her attention to Robbie. He’d always been pleasant to look upon. With straw-bright hair. And dancing blue eyes. He had a clever sense of humor. And an infectious laugh. He never treated her with disrespect, as some of the warriors were wont to do.
Sparks didn’t ignite in her heart when he was near. But perhaps that would happen with time. Or maybe it was best to settle for a constant, low-burning hearth instead of the kind of wild fire that flared high and out of control whenever Gellir…
She bit her lip. She wouldn’t think about Gellir. She would concentrate on Robbie. Robbie, who was light of heart and bright of smile. Not at all given to dark looks and grim scowls.
That was the moment Gellir suddenly strode up and began intimidating poor Robbie with his infamous frown and harsh inquisition.
Unfortunately, Robbie didn’t have the courage to confront Gellir.
Merraid did.
Gellir was being ridiculous. Unreasonable. In fact, if she didn’t know better, she’d say he was acting like a jealous suitor.
Of course, that wasn’t true. He was only doing what he always did. Defending her when she didn’t need it.
She didn’t mince words, letting him know.
After Robbie fled and Lady Dearbhorgaill bid Gellir a hasty farewell, they were left alone in the walled garden.
As aggravating as Gellir’s attempts to protect her were, in a way Merraid was flattered. Surely his misplaced concern for her stemmed from true friendship. It was the same way she felt about protecting him from unsuitable brides.
Yet she felt something more than friendship when she glanced up at his stormy eyes, still glittering from the thrill of chasing Robbie away. There was danger in them. Danger and intrigue.
She lowered her gaze past his flaring nostrils, settling on his wide, forbidding mouth.
Curiously, she felt no fear. Certain of his chivalry and sure he would do her no harm, Merraid found his dark looks not frightening, but fascinating.
Grim Gellir made a formidable enemy. But he was not her enemy. And that made her heart throb with strange excitement.
Surely he felt it too. The crackle of current between them. The intimate history they shared. The powerful attraction that drew them together like iron to a lodestone.
Yet she dared not let herself be drawn to him.
She reluctantly averted her gaze, fixing it on the bare branches of the apple tree.
“She’d probably prefer to cross-breed with a lily,” Gellir muttered.
“What?”
“Weren’t you going to ask me what I thought of Lady Dearbhorgaill?”
“Not…necessarily.”
“Why else did you follow me into the garden?”
“I didn’t follow ye.”
He gave her a look that said he knew better.