Chapter Thirty The Rest of the World
Chapter Thirty
The Rest of the World
This kiss was different to any he had given her in Bebbanburg. Those had been passionate, heated, and demanding—but this kiss claimed her.
Hea melted against him, her senses reeling as his mouth explored hers.
She moaned, her tongue tangling with his, and then shivered with need when he gently bit her lower lip.
Her heart thundered against her ribs, as if she had just run up the hillside to reach the pools.
Her skin felt exquisitely sensitive; her clothing too tight, too restrictive.
Bridei pulled her hard against him and kissed her once again, his fingers delving into her hair and spanning the back of her skull.
A whimper of pure need rose within her; she could not bear it.
Who was she trying to fool? The past few weeks had been torture, seeing him every day, averting her gaze from him every night.
She had thought her coldness would put him off, make him look elsewhere—but it had not.
He kissed her as if she were the only woman alive.
The taste of him, the warm scent of his skin, and the heat of his body enveloped her, making their surroundings disappear.
Her hands slid over his chest before linking around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair.
The movement thrust her breasts against the hard wall of his chest.
She heard his sharp intake of breath before he pulled her onto his lap.
A dull ache throbbed deep within her as his mouth left hers and traveled down the column of her neck. Her breasts felt swollen and sensitive inside the tightly-laced leather vest. She longed for him to free them.
“Hea,” he breathed. “I need you. Here … now.”
His voice brought Hea back to the present. Somewhere in her lust-addled brain, a shred of self-preservation struggled to the surface.
Breathing hard, she placed a hand on his chest and slowly pushed herself away.
Bridei drew back, his gaze meeting hers.
His peat-colored eyes were so dark they were almost black, his lips slightly parted.
Something twisted deep within her when she realized that she would want no other man, love no other man than him.
It had always been Bridei and it always would be.
And that was why this had to stop … now, before she gave herself to him, before she threw herself over the brink.
Heart pounding, she pushed herself off his lap and tried not to notice the considerable bulge in his breeches. Then she shifted away, so that at least three feet of sun-warmed rock lay between them, and watched him under lowered lids.
“This place,” she said, her voice husky. “It makes you believe the rest of the world doesn’t exist.”
He watched her, his chest rising and falling fast as he struggled to master himself.
In those dark eyes, she saw his confusion, his frustration.
He was not used to being denied. No doubt he thought she was playing some game with him, yet he was the one with all the power.
The tranquility of the past few weeks shattered.
Suddenly she felt a fool for believing she could rebuild her life.
“The rest of the world has nothing to do with this moment,” he replied, his gaze steady. “With us.”
Hea shook her head and looked away, focusing her attention on the thundering column of water that crashed down the rock face at the other end of the ledge. “Yes, it does,” she murmured.
Bridei was silent for a few moments before answering. “Do you really resent me so deeply, Hea?” She glanced back, to find him frowning. “Whatever I have done tell me, and I will make amends for it.”
Her chest constricted. She wished he would not say such things; it made keeping him at arm’s length all the harder. Was this how her mother had felt all those years ago? Had Ecgfrith looked at her as if she was the woman of his heart? Had he told her he would do whatever it took to win her?
Hea swallowed, blinking back the tears that loomed. Weeping would not help—it would only lower her defenses. She needed to be strong.
“The Falls of Culloch are lovely, and I’m glad I’ve seen them,” she said. Keeping her voice steady was the hardest thing she had ever done in her life. “But I think I’d like to go back now.”
Bridei reined Croí Cróga in, allowing Hea to ride ahead down the path away from the falls. He watched her back, her mane of dark red curls, and felt hurt twist inside him.
Perhaps he had misread her completely. Maybe she really had gone off him? Yet those kisses they had shared by the falls had not been imagined. She had responded to him with a hunger that had matched his own … only to push him away moments later.
He might have thought she was toying with him, deliberately making him suffer, if he had not seen the panic in her eyes.
As much as she responded to him physically, she was also afraid of him, and he could not imagine why.
He had never given her reason to fear him.
He knew some men used force on women, used fear to exert control, but surely Hea knew he was not one of them?
Had he not saved her from Rinan all those years ago?
They rode away from the Falls of Culloch, away from a place that had always soothed his soul. There had been a handful of times over the years that he had sought solace here—after his father had died was one. It was somewhere he had wanted to share with Hea … but now he wished he had not.
Initially, he had been frustrated by her coldness toward him, yet now it was starting to worry him. Hea had become a stranger, one determined to protect herself from him.
They rode down into the dense carpet of woodland below, the thud of their horses’ hooves and the jangling of bridles the only sound. Bridei let Hea continue to ride ahead, even if Croí Cróga chafed at the bit, for he did not like other horses to get ahead of him.
Bridei kept his gaze upon Hea, noting the tenseness of her posture. She was still upset and appeared to be fighting a war within.
Bridei set his jaw. He was not beaten yet.
Mid-Summer Fire was only a handful of days away—a time of feasting, festivity, and joy.
By the summer’s end, he would win Heahburh of Bebbanburg over.
Whatever the problem was, he would uncover it.
He had never wanted anything more than to see her smile at him with warmth in her eyes, as she had all those months ago.
He had not appreciated it then, but he did now.
By the time the leaves turned, he would find a way to unlock her heart.
It was mid-afternoon when they returned to Dundurn. Hea rode alongside Bridei now, although she tried to avoid looking in his direction. They had spoken little on the ride back to the fort; after what had happened at the falls she did not feel like making light conversation.
Instead, she felt sick, as if a heavy stone sat in her gut.
She should have been pleased, for she had shown considerable self-control in pushing Bridei away.
She had been so close to letting herself go; for a few moments, she had wanted nothing more than for him to lift her skirts and take her there on the rocks.
She was not sure how she had managed to resist him, for where Bridei was concerned she had always been like a moth to a flame.
But now that she had, she merely felt empty and sad.
She thought back to her conversation with Ciara the day before, her brave words about not needing a man. No doubt Ciara and Heolstor both thought her a goose—and after today’s events, she was inclined to agree with them.
Outside the walls of the fort, folk were piling branches onto carts. There were a number of carts, a row of at least six, and for a moment Hea forgot her discomfort as her curiosity rose. She glanced at Bridei. “What are they doing?”
“Getting ready for Mid-Summer Fire,” he replied. “All the folk in this area will gather in a forest glen—not far from The Falls of Culloch—and light a great fire.”
Hea glanced back at the carts laden with boughs of pine and beech.
Her people did not have this celebration.
After Eōstre in the spring, there were no festivities until Hlaf-mas, a festival that took place in late summer to celebrate the first wheat harvest of the year.
Her mother would often bake a special bread for the occasion, and they would go down to the fields below the fort together and watch games in the afternoon.
Pondering how different life was here in the north, she urged her pony across the bridge and into the fort. Had her stomach not been tied in knots, she would have looked forward to this coming festival.
They rode up the levels toward the broch. The great round tower loomed overhead, blocking out the sky as they approached. Hea had almost reached the high wall circling the broch itself when she caught sight of two figures sitting on a low wall to her right: Una and Rinan.
Neither had seen her and Bridei approach, as they were entirely focused on their conversation. The servant girl was explaining something, repeating the same phrase.
“Is mise Rinan. Tha mi ag obair le iarann.”
My name is Rinan. I work with iron.
She watched as the blond man uttered the words, slowly and painfully, his face screwed up with concentration. Dressed in plain plaid breeches and a leather vest, his bare arms streaked with the grime of the forge, Rinan looked as if he had just finished work for the day.
Beside Hea, Bridei gave a snort. “Are my eyes deceiving me?”
Hea’s mouth curved into a smile. “No, and neither are mine. She’s teaching him your tongue.”
“Why would she bother with Rinan?” he asked, his voice incredulous. “He has the charm of a boar.”
Despite herself, Hea laughed. “Maybe she likes boars.”
Bridei huffed out a breath. “Hardly likely—maybe I should warn him off. Tell him to leave Una alone.”
Hea cast him a quelling look. “You’ll do no such thing. Anyone can see she’s there by her own will.”
In response, Bridei raised an eyebrow, holding Hea’s gaze for a long moment. In his eyes, she saw the unspoken question. But you are not?
Deciding that it was best not to say anything more on the subject, Hea urged her pony forward and trotted under the arch into the yard beyond.
It was the quiet time of the evening. Supper had long since ended, and many of the broch’s inhabitants had retired to their alcoves or stretched out on furs upon the floor.
Bridei sat alone at the table upon the high seat, nursing a warm cup of mead that he had no taste for.
Hea had gone upstairs as soon as supper had ended, and Fearghus and Heolstor, seeing that their lord was in ill-humor this evening, had shifted to a table on the other side of the hall where they now played knucklebones.
Ciara sat near the hearth, feet up on a settle as she wound wool onto a spindle.
Rising to his feet, Bridei crossed to the hearth, stepping over the prostrate bodies of men, women, and children who had already fallen asleep. Ciara looked up as he approached, favoring him with a knowing smile.
“I was wondering when you’d come to talk to me, Lord Bridei.”
Bridei scowled in an attempt to mask his sudden discomfort. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I saw the look on both your and Hea’s faces when you came back from your ride this afternoon. You’re wanting a woman’s perspective, aren’t you?”
Bridei stiffened. “I can see you’re busy. I’ll leave you to your work.”
He turned to leave, but Ciara’s soft laugh stilled him. “It’s not like you to be so prickly. Come … take a seat next to me. This task bores me, and once Heolstor gets into his games with Fearghus, he’s no company at all.”
Reluctantly, he turned and did as bid, seating himself upon a low stool next to her. Ciara continued to wind wool onto her distaff. It was a rhythmic, repetitive act that was hypnotic to watch. Bridei lapsed into silence, watching her work.
Eventually, it was Ciara who spoke. “She’s not succumbed to your charms yet then?”
Bridei clenched his jaw. She was right, he lacked his sense of humor this evening. He did not usually mind Ciara’s irreverent, teasing manner, but tonight it irritated him. She was making light of something that mattered to him.
Sensing his mood, her expression softened. “Has she told you why?”
Bridei shook his head, meeting her gaze. “I was wondering if she had said anything to you … I know women talk among themselves.”
Ciara shook her head. “Nothing. Hea keeps her own counsel about such matters. She does seem troubled though.”
“She won’t speak to me of it,” Bridei replied. “She just looks at me as if I’m a wulver about to carry her off to my cave.”
Ciara watched him, her gaze introspective, for a few moments. “Have you told Hea how you feel about her?”
Bridei stiffened. “What?”
Ciara’s mouth thinned. “Don’t be dense, Bridei. Have you told her you’re in love with her?”
Silence fell between them. Bridei shifted uncomfortably on the stool and looked away to escape Ciara’s penetrating gaze. “No.”
Ciara huffed out a breath. “Men.”
Bridei frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re clod-headed fools. You think telling a woman you want to plow her is enough? If she’s reluctant, then maybe it’s because she thinks you’ll just use her and cast her aside.”
Bridei stared at Ciara, stunned, as if she had just struck him across the face. “Really, you think that’s what’s worrying her?”
Ciara gave a strangled sound, a mix of exasperation and irritation. “I don’t know, but maybe you should try being honest to Hea. Her reaction might surprise you.”