Authors: Phoebe Conn
What sparked her curiosity, however, was how Madi, rather than being pressed against Kieran that night, stood sulking beside her father, Skell. The more Oriana saw of the man, the more he resembled Garrick, whom she watched move through the crowded hall with stealth.
“Something’s come between Madi and Kieran,” Oriana whispered on their way from one cluster of cousins to the next. “What can it be?”
“How should I know?” Egan joked. “Neither confides in me, but if a quarrel will serve to distract him, so much the better.”
“I fear I distract you,” Oriana whispered.
“Terribly, and it’s all I can do not to ravish you right here in front of everyone.”
Albyn approached in time to overhear Egan’s last remark, and he swiftly took Oriana’s side. “While such a barbaric display would undoubtedly enhance your reputation, my lord, it would irrevocably damage your lady’s, so I must advise against it.”
“I need no advice where Oriana’s welfare is concerned,” Egan countered almost too sharply.
As the two friends began an exchange of good-natured barbs, Oriana gazed out over the great hall. While she knew it was foolhardy, she attempted to envision the reception she would receive in five years, or ten, or even twenty when her sons’ laughter would mingle with the other young men’s. She had a lively imagination, but such promising images refused to come clear. Perhaps that meant she would have only daughters whom Egan would forbid to attend such boisterous feasts.
Or, as she feared, she had no real future there with Egan. Her thoughts strayed to Adelaine, and she squeezed Egan’s arm. “I don’t recall meeting any of your mother’s people. Are any here tonight?”
With a height advantage over most of the men in the hall, Egan made a quick survey. “My uncle Yowan is standing near the hearth. Do you see anyone else, Albyn?”
Albyn studied Oriana rather than the crowd. Puzzled by her interest, he appeared slightly perplexed. “I spoke with Yowan earlier, and both his sons are here with him. If there are any others, I’ve not seen them.”
Oriana waited until Egan had satisfied himself no one else had been overlooked. “May I meet them, please?”
Egan was grateful she was not the same completely disinterested beauty he had escorted the previous evening, he broke into a broad smile. “I shall be happy to introduce you to whomever you choose, but I must warn you that Yowan loves nothing more than the sound of his own voice, and his sons are so eager to talk, they constantly interrupt each other.”
“How charming,” Oriana replied, but she was elated to discover there was someone present who might know something more about Adelaine than her devoted maid was willing to tell.
Yowan was nearly as tall as Egan. Over the years his fiery red hair had deepened to auburn, but a lively light danced in his blue-gray eyes. He bowed slightly when Egan and Oriana approached, and took obvious pride in introducing his sons, who were strapping lads with the family’s bright red hair and blue eyes.
“I did not anticipate a challenge,” Yowan began in a conspiratorial whisper, “but I should have expected no better from Kieran. Clearly he has more of Ula’s blood in his veins than Cadell’s. I would not trifle with him as you did today. On the morrow, kill him cleanly, and welcome your title as king. Each minute you delay, Kieran grows stronger.”
Egan nodded as though he were in agreement. “It has been too long since your last visit. Please bring more of my mother’s people on your next journey.”
Yowan fixed his sons with a stern glance. “As soon as
this pair are wed, I’ll do just that. Until then, I’ll have no more time for travel.”
While Oriana had made only polite murmurs during previous conversations, she reached out to touch Yowan’s sleeve. “You were Adelaine’s brother?” she inquired.
“Aye, that I was, and a dearer sister never lived. She was as joyous as a summer day, and that she was not alive when my sons were born has caused me great sorrow.”
Oriana was deeply gratified to learn Adelaine had possessed a sunny disposition, for it made suicide most unlikely. She smiled at Egan’s cousins, whose roving eyes proved they were far more interested in observing the young women present than in interrupting their father’s conversation. While their coloring was more vivid, they bore a slight resemblance to Egan and were equally muscular and fit.
“Have the two of you met Madi?” she asked. “She looks rather lonely tonight.”
“She’s no one we’d care to meet,” the taller of the young men replied with a barely suppressed snort.
“No, indeed,” added his brother. “I’d sooner court an honest shepherdess.”
While amusement tickled Egan’s lips, Oriana quickly encouraged the conversation in the direction she wished it to go. “Is it only Madi who’s not truthful, or her entire family?”
Yowan leaned close to whisper, “This is Ula’s home, my lady, and for my sons’ sakes, I’ll not question her family’s morals while we’re so badly outnumbered. Fortunately, no such inquiries are needed when it is a well-known fact that they will seize power by whatever means necessary. We should have foreseen Kieran’s challenge years ago and prepared for it.”
“Has such an eventuality always existed?” Oriana asked with feigned innocence.
“Aye, I’m sorely afraid that it has,” Yowan confided.
“To protect Egan’s future, I advised Cadell to wed another lass from our family. But Adelaine’s cousins all reminded him too much of the dear love he’d lost, and Ula was a tempting distraction.”
Oriana watched distaste for the haughty woman twist Yowan’s expression into a revolted sneer and shared his sentiments completely. “Well, you did your best to protect Egan’s interests.”
“Aye, that I did, and you’d be wise to follow my advice on the morrow, lad, and become king of the Dál Cais without further delay.” Yowan looked to his sons for support, and they murmured the appropriate encouragement.
Egan responded with a deep chuckle. “No one has dared to address me as ‘lad’ in years, uncle. It’s good that you’re here, but I’ve set my own course.”
Yowan shook his head sadly. “You’re as headstrong as Cadell, but I hope you’ll not pay as dearly.”
In an instant the tone of the conversation darkened, and though Egan was obviously insulted, Oriana appreciated Yowan’s insight. “Is that a comment on his second marriage, or the manner of his death?” she whispered.
Behind them, the fire crackled in the huge hearth, and the minstrel’s voice soared in a bawdy refrain. Laughter echoed throughout the crowded hall, but they were encircled in a sudden silence. Oriana tilted her head slightly and risked staring directly at Yowan to prompt his reply.
Appearing shocked by the question, Yowan quickly looked away. “I’ve heard whispers about you, my lady, but even after Egan is named king, you’d best watch your tongue.”
Egan bristled at the warning. “In the future, direct all your advice to me,” he insisted, then dismissed his uncle and cousins with a curt nod. He took Oriana’s hand in a firm grip and led her toward the first of the low tables.
“It’s time for the evening meal,” he announced loudly, but he dropped his voice to insist, “You’ll save the rest of your questions for later.”
He sounded thoroughly annoyed with her, and perhaps she had been too bold, but there had been no way to speak privately with Yowan. Now she would have to think of some frivolous reason to explain why she had been so interested not merely in Adelaine, but also in Ula and Madi’s family.
Then who would be the liar? She had been quick to condemn Ula’s family for plotting murder, but perhaps she was merely attempting to justify her own lies. She wanted only to protect Egan, but now seated at his side, it hurt to have to keep secrets.
Guilt-ridden, her glance strayed toward the richly textured tapestries decorating the walls. Their deep colors added to the richness of the hall, and she could see in the flickering torchlight the subject of the largest appeared to be two men sailing skyward on huge wings. Because such a fanciful interpretation was absurd, she turned away to search the crowded hall for the one man she had not seen.
Just when she had convinced herself Kieran had decided against attending the feast, he strode into the hall with Bevan and his sons. Rather than being distraught at having lost the first challenge, he appeared supremely confident and hailed a friend with a jaunty wave. Ignoring Madi, he walked up to a young woman with flowing blond hair and leaned down to kiss her cheek.
Oriana thought it a remarkable performance, but she could feel Egan watching her and raised her glance to his. “I wish we could have remained in your chamber,” she confided.
Egan smiled as he filled her cup with wine, but Oriana’s returning smile was shaky, and her stomach tightened into a painful knot. What if Yowan was right, and Egan should dispatch Kieran with all possible haste? What if it was merely her own lack of family which made her long to save Kieran’s life? What if every choice since the moment she had met Egan had been the wrong one?
A tear spilled over her lashes to splash into her wine,
and she wished again to escape the crowded hall where everyone else relished the excitement of the challenge while she was so desperately afraid.
Egan watched the tears fill Oriana’s eyes and feared he had spoken too sharply. “I’m sorry for sounding harsh. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Oriana shook her head sadly. “You’re the only one here who doesn’t.”
Egan hoped she would still pay him the same compliment later, but he was positive she had yet to reveal something important. When his life might well depend on that very knowledge, he vowed to coax it from her lips with soul-grazing pleasure.
It was far later than Egan had hoped when he finally escorted Oriana into his chamber. He angled her toward his bed, and once she was seated primly on the edge, he knelt at her feet and rested his hands lightly on her knees. “Ula floods the fortress with secrets and lies. I sought you out because I needed trustworthy advisers, but I never dreamed I would become king so soon.”
He paused to marvel at the extraordinary result of that quest. “You are far more valuable to me now for the woman you are rather than for your gift for prophecy, but,” he emphasized, “I won’t allow you to withhold what might be significant insights.
“You’ve begged me to trust you, Oriana, but it’s time you trusted me. Whatever you sought to learn tonight, or perhaps already know, confide in me now.”
His earnest expression prompted an equally serious response, and Oriana fought to separate her cascading suspicions from the one undeniable truth in her heart. She raised a fingertip to trace the gentle bow of his upper lip, and he pressed a tender kiss to her palm.
They were quite alone, but Oriana spoke in a concerned hush. “Your mighty fortress conceals more secrets than I could bring to light in a lifetime, but you’re all that truly matters to me.”
Egan caught her hands before she could caress him a second time and decimate his last hope of pursuing a significant discovery that night. “You’ll not distract me so easily.”
“No, I seek only to protect you,” she swore.
Egan laughed despite the darkness of his mood. “I can control an ambitious half brother, but you, my lady, are beginning to try my patience. I’ll protect you most willingly, but for you to even suggest that you might reciprocate is ludicrous. Tell me what danger you foresee, and I’ll gladly defeat it on my own.”
In the fire’s reflected light, Oriana glimpsed a wildness in his eyes that revealed the real danger. He possessed a warrior’s fierce heart, and though she may have tamed it for the present, the innate threat was barely contained. She had watched him temper his strength with Duncan O Floinn, but he obviously possessed the cunning savagery to slay any real opponent.
“I did not mean to insult your pride,” she apologized calmly, “but by whatever means necessary, I’ll endeavor to safeguard your life. For the moment, I’ve no more than a haunting sensation of sorrow and loss. It may be your mother’s spirit lingering near those she loved, or merely the trick of a chilly draft. I’d not mentioned it for fear of distracting you when you must focus your wits on Kieran’s challenge.”
Oriana hoped he would accept that partial truth, for it was all she cared to disclose without proof of a sinister plot that might have been set in motion years ago. “You’re the only one who confides in me, Egan. All the others here regard me as an unwelcome stranger.”
“Not Albyn, surely,” Egan posed.
Oriana escaped his grasp to caress his temple and wound a lazy curl around her finger. “No, he has been friendly.” Much too friendly in her view, but that opinion was best left unspoken as well.
Egan studied the sadness of her expression and wished he could make her smile as she had that afternoon. He
again caught her hand in a fond clasp. “I’m sorry we had to spend so much time pretending we’d rather entertain my guests than be alone here. I can’t promise that my life will ever become any less demanding, but you’ll always be first in my heart.”
It was a very thoughtful vow, but only served to increase her fear that their time together was merely an enchanted interlude not unlike the one her own parents had initially shared. It would not have to last, however, for her to believe he loved her deeply.
As a slight smile graced Oriana’s lips, Egan was no longer satisfied to simply have found a goddess wandering the earth in a patched cloak. Now he longed to know how she had spent every day since the moment of her birth. He craved even the smallest detail, a fleeting fright, an unexpected joy, the sum of experience that had created such a captivating creature. He hoped for a long, severe winter that would keep them locked in each other’s arms while they reminisced after making love.
“Sing Lugh’s song for me,” he begged. “Make it part of our memories of tonight.”
It was a touching request, but Oriana shook her head. “I’m not certain I can conjure up the tune; you fill my thoughts so completely there’s scant room for Lugh.”
Egan had never knelt at a woman’s feet, but it was not at all uncomfortable. In fact, he rather liked the pressure of her long, shapely legs against his chest. “I ask only for his song, not for a visit from the god himself.”
Yet even as he spoke, the logs on the hearth shifted with a loud crackle and sent a plume of bright sparks dancing wildly above the flames.
The timing of the impressive display startled Egan, but he recovered sufficiently to offer a confident challenge, “If that’s you, Lugh, I mean to wed your beautiful daughter.” Anticipating a fiery response, he held his breath, but the glowing hearth offered no additional signs of a blessing or curse.
“Do you see what tricks your imagination plays?”
Oriana asked pointedly. “I want only you here, not Lugh. Let’s create our own song if you must have a melody to accompany your memories.”
While Egan was not so easily convinced that Lugh had not just sent a mischievous puff into the fire, he rose to join her on the bed. Then with a low, hungry growl, he caught her in his arms. “You never do anything I ask, do you?”
Oriana placed her hands on his chest in gentle reproach. “That’s untrue,” she protested. “I went to the feast with you tonight, did I not? It was not the first such meal I’ve attended.”
Egan responded with a grudging nod. “Aye, you have been at my side when I demanded it, but then tonight, as always, you did as you pleased.”
Oriana’s posture stiffened. “Would you rather I silently sipped wine until I had to be carried from the hall like more than one of your female relatives?”
Egan nibbled her ear. “I’d hoped you’d not notice the women who are overly fond of wine. In the future, we must dilute theirs with even more water.”
The slight growth of his beard tickled her throat, and Oriana’s pose softened as she leaned into his playful caress. “Perhaps the real problem lies not in the strength of the wine, but in the lack of a husband’s affections.”
“It could well be, but you’ll never suffer such a tragic fate.” Tightening his embrace, he lured her down onto the furs and captured her mouth for a long, lavish kiss.
In but a moment, Oriana felt his teasing mood change with the quickening of his breath. This was where he had pulled away from her that afternoon, but now, rather than being edged with caution, his kiss was suffused with desire. Deeply grateful, she welcomed his passion. There was no need to recall a haunting melody when he would be her first and only lover.
When he at last allowed her a moment to catch her breath, she whispered against his ear, “Are our clothes not in the way?”
Embarrassed that he had once discarded his so recklessly by the shore, Egan raised up only long enough to peel off his long tunic and toss it aside.
“There is no need to rush,” he assured her.
Oriana trailed her hand over his warm, bare shoulder. “No need for you, perhaps.”
Amused by her suggestive tone, Egan chuckled softly. “I mean to have you for a lifetime, my lady.”
Knowing some lifetimes were tragically brief, Oriana could not help but think of his mother, who must have died so very young. “I fear a lifetime with you may not be nearly long enough.”
“Then we must savor every moment.” Shifting his position slightly, Egan twisted his hands through her curls to hold her still for another deep kiss.
Cherishing every nuance of the affectionate exchange, Oriana sighed softly and then, with sudden alarm, confessed, “Rather than only seventeen summers, I’ve actually seen nineteen.”
Charmed by her candor, Egan indulged in another deeply satisfying kiss before leaning back to prop his head on his elbow. “I would love you even if it had been two hundred to my mere twenty-seven.”
The smoky scent of the fire blended smoothly with the lavender perfume of Adelaine’s clothes, but Oriana craved more of Egan’s clean, masculine essence. She snuggled close and breathed deeply. As always, he smelled so good, like soap and leather with a lingering hint of the mysterious forest depths. Beneath her fingertips, she felt the pulse in his throat beating in a sure, steady rhythm, and she fought to silence her fears.
His bare chest was so inviting, her own clothes were proving to be a frustrating distraction, and she sat up to pull off her sleeveless tunic, then leaned down to remove her shoes. “Perhaps you enjoy making love in your clothes, but I doubt that I shall.”
Egan watched as she stood to remove the golden torque he had placed around her neck and the delicate
wooden beads his father had carved. He stretched lazily as she slid off her simple gold bracelet, and thought that even if they were blessed with a hundred years together, he would never tire of her guileless grace. He imagined the distant future when her hair would be a glossy silver rather than gold, and still she was so beautiful it took his breath away.
Unable to bear even a brief separation, he rolled off the bed, caught her in a warm embrace and nearly crushed her against his chest. “You’re right,” he admitted hoarsely. “Our clothes are in the way.”
As he dropped his hands, Oriana stepped back to unfasten his belt. “So you admit that I’m right about at least one thing?”
Egan sucked in his breath as her fingertips brushed his bare belly. He caught her wrists before she could undress him. “Wait. First you must remove your gown.”
That she had caused the catch in his voice made Oriana smile. “As you wish,” she replied. She bent to grasp her hem, and with a slow, easy twist pulled the lovely garment off over her head.
Egan had forgotten that she would be wearing a lace-trimmed shift underneath, and he waited impatiently as she laid her dress aside. When she turned back toward him, the rosy tips of her breasts were clearly outlined against the sheer linen, and it was all he could do not to rip her shift from neckline to hem with a single quick lunge.
Fighting for control, he ran his palms down his thighs and reminded himself that she was not only a rare beauty, but also an innocent who undoubtedly had no real understanding of what the night would bring. If he did not take care, there was a risk of frightening her so badly that she might also prefer wine to her husband’s company. Avoiding that wretched consequence would be worth the effort, but when he wanted her so badly, he was uncertain how he would maintain the necessary restraint.
Fearing the chamber was too brightly lit for modesty’s sake, he glanced toward the fire, and when he looked back toward Oriana, her shift lay pooled at her feet. With her stately elegance clothed, he had known she would be enchanting nude, but rather than demure, her glance was curious and direct. He tried to smile, but feared his expression conveyed only awestruck wonder.
Which of us is the true innocent here? he wondered. Before he could gather his wits to comment on her beauty, she crossed the distance between them in a single gliding step, and he was lost in her before their lips met in another lingering kiss. He picked her up to lay her across his bed, then sloughed off his pants and kicked them away.
With no effort to hide his erection, Egan stretched out beside her. Drawn by her enticing curves, he immediately slid his tongue over her breasts to lave the tender crests, and then pulled the puckered buds through his teeth. He traced the smooth fullness of her hip, caressed the length of her thigh, and then tightened his hand around her narrow waist to draw her close.
Oriana danced her fingertips across his broad back. Her touch strayed along the puckered edge of an old scar before plunging down over his hip, and certain of her goal, he quickly laced his fingers in hers to keep his desire focused upon pleasing her.
He knew he would never feel a greater joy, but he wanted so desperately for her to share it. He kissed her until they were both breathless and dizzy, and then shifted his position slightly to trail affectionate nibbles over her ribs and down into the gentle bowl of her stomach. A playfully sloppy kiss at her navel encouraged a rush of giggles, and straying lower, he rubbed his cheek against her soft triangle of golden curls.
Growing increasingly bold, he nudged her legs apart with his knee and settled himself between her slender limbs. At the first tantalizing brush of his tongue, Oriana responded with a startled gasp, but as she arched her
back to escape him, he slid his arms under her thighs, clamped his hands around her waist to hold her captive, and tilted her hips toward his mouth.
He had never pleasured another woman in such an abandoned fashion, but none had ever been his Oriana. He lapped at the tender valley of her femininity and found her taste more luscious than any delicacy. He sampled, sipped, teased her delicate bud, then drank deeply, and still hungered for more.
Oriana felt as though she were being devoured by Egan’s ravenous desire but after the initial shock, she was lost in rapture. Emboldened by her own desire, she grabbed handfuls of his long wavy hair to encourage more of the stunning kisses that sent tingling tremors of ecstasy clear to her toes. He kept yanking her closer, but she no longer wished to pull away.
His tongue darted into her core, then swept up in a warm, wet arc to tempt her with glorious sensations. He traced the petals of her feminine flesh, nibbling gently, coaxing the surrender she was so eager to give. Her joy built with rippling waves that spiraled so tightly within her that the sweetness bordered pain.
“Oh, please, no more,” she sobbed.
As always, Egan was eager to argue, and without lifting his head, he slid a finger and then two inside to stroke her, lift her, carry her ever higher, until reaching the inevitable crest, she grabbed his wrist and writhed against his hand.
At the height of that thrilling climax, stars burst around her in a shimmering haze, but as she floated to earth, their searing heat left her as limp as a wilted rose. Egan drew her into his arms, but drained of strength as well as desire, she remained sprawled across his chest for what could have been days before she was able to draw a breath deep enough to inspire coherent thought.