Chapter 10 #2
“Why are we stoppin’?” Olivia asked, looking puzzled as he put down the packages on the grassy verge and took her gently by her upper arms.
“Because ye took a nasty knock back there, and I want to make sure ye’re nae hurt,” he told her.
“Och, ’tis sweet of ye to worry about me, Edan, but there’s nay need. I’m perfectly all right,” she assured him soothingly.
“Let me be the judge of that. Someone bribed that lad back there to steal from ye. That worries me. I need to find out who it was and why.”
He believed that Nurkirk was behind it as well as the destruction of the crops, but he had no intention of mentioning it to Olivia. He did not want her to think of Nurkirk at all. Which was why her next words took him completely off guard.
“I suspect Laird Nurkirk is behind it. He didnae take kindly to losin’ his chance of takin’ over the clan, nor bein’ humiliated when ye threw him out of the castle like that. From what I’ve heard, he’s a spiteful man who never lets a slight go unanswered.”
Edan, incredulous that she had figured all of this out on her own, could only stare at her in amazement as she continued, “I heard about what happened with the farmers’ crops, and I immediately thought of him.
It seems like the kind of thing he would do to get his revenge on us.
” She paused and looked up at him appealingly.
“I figured that was probably why ye suddenly decided ye had to go away again—to fight him.”
“I want to destroy him,” Edan growled, so overcome by his anger with the man that he failed to realize he was giving his intentions away.
But there was more to it than just anger.
Even thinking about Nurkirk’s insolence in trying to steal Olivia from him stirred the dark, toxic stew of jealousy and hatred that had been bubbling deep within him ever since he had learned of the proposal.
The last thing he wanted was to hear the man’s cursed name on Olivia’s lips for any reason.
He stared at those full, rosy lips as she continued talking, and he knew she had to stop.
“Of course, and I understand why ye feel that way,” she was saying reasonably. “But as of yet, ye have nay proof that he’s guilty, and until ye do—”
Edan did the only thing he could think of to shut her up. He pulled her close, bent his head, and kissed her, hard.
As his mouth covered hers, she let out a small, startled squeak. But then, as his tongue hungrily sought hers, she sighed, and he felt her lean into him, reaching up and wrapping her arms around his neck, cleaving to him and returning his kiss with a passionate one of her own.
Ach, God, this wasnae supposed to happen, he groaned inwardly as the kiss grew more heated and they moved closer to each other.
Powerless to resist his urges, he enfolded her more tightly in his arms while she pulled his head down, the better to kiss him back.
Her response excited him such that he could already feel his manhood pressing against the front of his trews.
He dreaded to think what might have happened next if they had not been startled by a subtle cough behind them that caused them to spring apart.
An old carter was driving past with a rickety cart loaded with turnips. His lined, old face split into a grin as he tipped his hat and murmured, “Me Laird, Me Lady.”
“Good day to ye,” Edan managed to mumble in reply.
They stood motionless, watching until the old man had passed. Then, Edan turned to Olivia to see that her cheeks were scarlet, her lips bruised and swollen from the kiss. Feeling a rush of panic at what he had done, he quashed his desire and immediately withdrew behind his mask.
“We should get back to the castle. I have a lot of work to do,” he heard himself say coldly, hating himself for the hurt and confusion that appeared in her eyes.
He stooped and collected the packages before walking on without another word.
After a few moments, Olivia trotted after him. As they walked in awkward silence, Edan felt his defenses crumble away a little more, while his self-loathing only increased.
Three more dates, and then she’ll give herself to me.
Edan stole glances at Olivia as he sat brooding next to her in the Great Hall during supper.
“What a pretty, wee necklace ye have there, Olivia,” his grandmother remarked.
She was sitting next to Olivia and reached over to gently take hold of the little silver dragonfly.
“I havenae seen ye wearin’ it before. Is it new?” she asked, admiring it.
Edan loved the smile that curved his wife’s lips as she answered with a tinge of pride, “Aye, ’tis a present from Edan. He brought it for me today at the market.”
His grandmother smiled approvingly at him and nodded. “’Tis lovely, dear, and it suits ye, for it’s so sweet and delicate like yerself.”
Olivia laughed. “I’m nae sure about that! But I love it just the same.”
Hearing her gratifying words, Edan’s heart did a somersault in his chest, setting off alarm bells in his head.
I shouldnae be feelin’ like this. I shouldnae be lettin’ her get under me skin.
Yet, when she let the little charm fall between her breasts as she picked up her wine goblet and drank from it, he could not help wishing he could take its place. The war going on inside him was interrupted by his best friend’s voice.
“Ye say Edan brought it for ye as a present, Lady Aberfeld?” Zander piped up, staring between Olivia’s breasts.
“Aye, he did,” she said, smiling at him.
Edan felt the urge to punch him for looking at his wife’s chest like that.
“That’s a first, then. He’s usually a tight-fisted bastard when it comes to buyin’ presents. The only lady I’ve kenned him to buy anythin’ for is Lady Greta,” Zander said jokingly.
Shut yer face, ye fool! What are ye tryin’ to do?
Edan glared at his friend, suddenly caring very much that Olivia did not believe Zander’s claim. But then he realized how dangerous it was to feel that way.
What am I doin’? I should let him run me down. It’ll put her off me and make it easier to resist her. Ach, what a fool I was to buy her that necklace! All I’ve done is encourage her and make everything harder for meself.
Predictably, his annoyance only made Zander grin wider.
“In that case, ’tis all the more precious to me,” Olivia replied, her tone a little tart as she smiled back at Zander.
Despite everything he kept telling himself, Edan found himself smiling too, unable to resist the frisson of pleasure he felt at her willingness to defend him.
Before he could stop himself, he gave his mischievous friend a sarcastic smile and raised his tankard of ale in his direction. Zander laughed, clearly enjoying himself.
Greta laughed too. “That told ye, Zander. Dinnae try to sow discord between the married folk now. It’ll be yer turn soon enough, I expect, and ye could do worse than takin’ a leaf out of me grandson’s book.”
Ach, God, now she’s holdin’ me up as a paragon of husbandly virtue. That’s nae what’s needed at all!
“Never! I’ve given up all hope of findin’ a wife ever since ye turned me down,” Zander was telling her, accompanying his words with a cheeky wink.
The old lady cackled with pleasure, Olivia giggled, and despite his confusion, even Edan could not help chuckling.
When supper was over, he made sure to put on his reserved mask as he escorted Olivia and his grandmother to the latter’s bedchamber.
He kissed his grandmother goodnight, intending to go straight to his bed.
But for some unfathomable reason, he found himself kicking his heels in the hall instead, waiting impatiently for Olivia to come out again.
When he had discovered she did it every night, he had unsuccessfully tried not to admire her for it.
Why does she have to be so perfect?
“Och, have ye been waitin’ for me all this time?” she asked when she emerged into the hall, looking surprised to see him. “Did ye want to speak to me about somethin’?”
“Nay. I thought I’d escort ye to yer chambers, ’tis all,” he said gruffly, unable to explain to himself what he was doing there.
A small, adorable line appeared between her delicate eyebrows. “But ’tis only just down the stairs,” she pointed out.
Before he knew what he was saying, he blurted out, “So? Is a husband nae allowed to escort his lady wife if he so wishes?”
She looked a little flustered, but he could tell from the way she dipped her eyes and gave a small smile that she was pleased.
The gratification he felt at being responsible for it sent a wave of pleasure through him. Simultaneously, the voice in his head was shouting, What are ye doin’? Ye shouldnae even be here. Ye’re just makin’ it worse for yerself!
“Well, that is thoughtful of ye. If I happen to trip over me feet on the way there, ’tis nice to think ye’ll be there to save me,” she said humorously, linking their arms.
Under the onslaught of her charm, he felt his mask slipping. “’Tis best to be on the safe side. These old floors can be tricky, ye ken.”
She giggled deliciously as he led her down to the next landing and the chambers she had been banished to. They halted outside her door.
“Did ye enjoy our outing today?” he asked, craftily managing to maneuver her so she was leaning against the wall by the door and placing his arms on either side of her, so she could not escape. He was half hoping she would invite him inside.
Her cheeks turned a delightful pink, and it excited him to know he was making her nervous, but he could not seem to stop himself.
“Aye, I did. Thank ye, it was fun,” she answered with only a little tremor in her voice, looking up at him with her melting brown eyes.
He leaned closer, looking down at her cleavage.
She has nay idea what she does to me! Thank God she cannae read me mind.
“Did ye have a nice time?” she asked demurely.
“Aye, I did, thank ye.” Then, before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “We have only three dates left.” Before ye give yerself to me like ye promised.
“I dinnae need to be reminded. What do ye think we’ll do on our third outing?” she asked, looking at him with a shy smile that made his belly flip.
“Dinnae worry yer head about that. I have an idea or two up me sleeve, but it’ll be a surprise, like always,” he told her, close enough to kiss her again, breathing in her light, floral scent.
He was already planning to take her somewhere secluded, where they would be completely alone. No Zander, no villagers, no one to see what they got up to. The kisses they had shared so far held so much erotic promise that he could hardly wait to see what would happen.
Stop! Stop before this goes too far, ye fool!
“’Tis a good thing I like surprises then,” she replied and slipped out from under his arm before he could stop her, opening the door to her chambers and stepping over the threshold. “Sleep well, husband,” she said, disappearing inside and shutting the door firmly behind her.
Damn! I should have kissed her again.
Despite his frustration at having let her slip away so easily, another part of him was thankful that she had so cleverly eluded him.
’Tis better this way, he told himself as he made his way to his chambers, for another night of solitude.
Once in bed, he lay with his arms behind his head, his long legs crossed beneath the covers, unable to help picturing himself peeling her clothes off her one by one, to finally reveal the luscious curves he had only glimpsed beneath her nightdress.
It aroused him so much that he was forced to take himself in hand before he could rest.
It was her he was thinking of when he finally snuffed out the candles and lay in the red glow of the fire. Perhaps that was the reason why he dozed off without feeling afraid to surrender to sleep as he did most nights.
He fell into his familiar hell. What light there was to see by was dim and red-tinted.
Where the sky should have been was a beaten sheet of blue-grey pewter that pressed down on him like a dead weight.
Vizor down, the world reduced to a slit, he was deep within the melee as he always was, gripping his bloodied sword in one fist, his shield and dirk in the other, dripping with gore.
The very air around him trembled as if from thunder, alive with sound, filled with roars, shouts, groans, curses, prayers, and the agonized screams of the fallen.
Smashing, crunching, slicing, grunting, thudding, shrieking, bones cracking, metal clashing, shields splintering, blow after blow after relentless blow.
He was just another warrior on the eternal battlefield, slogging on, trading blows, fighting for his life, with no choice but to suck in the air that was thick with fine crimson droplets and the stink of butchered bodies.
He smashed his shield into his enemy’s, and with a flick of his wrist, he slit the man’s gullet open with his concealed dirk. The man gasped and collapsed at his feet, trying in vain to hold his entrails in. Edan stepped over him and stood for a second, panting for breath.
Glancing up, he saw the black outlines of the crows wheeling above, cawing excitedly, eager to gorge themselves on the man-made carnage below.
The sight filled him with fear. He did not mind a quick death so much as a slow one.
He had witnessed many men go down and the birds come and feast on their eyes while they were still alive.
He looked down at the ground, and his terror heightened, for beneath his boots was a filthy, squelching mixture of mud and blood and bone and body parts that pulled at his boots with every step, threatening to engulf him like quicksand if he made one wrong move. One slip would be fatal.
His limbs felt weighted with rocks, his bones saturated by exhaustion, but foes still crept up on him, an endless procession of shadowy warriors with devilish faces who hacked and smashed at him in the battle that raged endlessly in his wounded mind.
He had to keep fighting, or he knew he would die and be consumed by the hungry morass beneath him.