Authors: Sarah McKerrigan
Colin
began shaking his head in bemusement.
Deirdre
stared pointedly at Miriel, as if to divine the truth from her.
Before
anyone could speak, Miriel filled the silence. "That's right. I wished him
to return. In fact," she added, her courage bolstered by virtue of having
an accomplice, "I insisted he return. Now if you don't mind, the poor man
has traveled all morn and hasn't had a morsel to eat." Tugging him in the
direction of the keep, she shook her head. "Some Rivenloch hospitality
we've shown. God's wounds! Helena greeted him with a sword."
Colin
frowned. "You've met Helena?" At Rand's nod, Colin briefly scanned
him from head to toe. "And you have no scars to show for it?"
Rand
looked horrified. "I would not fight her, I assure you."
To
Rand's surprise, Colin chuckled. "Then, good fellow, you've chosen the
right Rivenloch sister to court."
Pagan
was not so amused. "No one's given him permission to court her."
Anger
simmered inside Miriel again. She needed no one's permission. Who did Pagan
think he was?
Fortunately,
Deirdre intervened before Miriel's ire could come to a full boil. "I don't
see any harm in it," she said, resting a calming hand atop Pagan's
formidable forearm. "He comes from a respectable household. They're
acquainted. And Miriel's old enough. After all," she reminded him pointedly,
"she was nearly betrothed this summer to a man she didn't love."
That
man had been Pagan himself. He grunted at the pointed reference.
Deirdre
gave her a conspiratorial smile. " 'Tis only fair she be allowed to make
her own choice in this."
Pagan
muttered something under his breath about headstrong Scotswomen.
"Besides,"
Deirdre added, "Sung Li will doubtless be nigh to keep them out of
trouble."
As
if her words had conjured the servant, Sung Li appeared in the midst of the
courtyard, his arms laden with a platter of food.
Miriel
sighed. She'd won her way. Rand had permission to court her. But with Sung Li
present, her opportunity to learn what Rand was up to by charming it out of
him had disappeared.
************************************
Rand
wondered how many more surprises awaited him at Rivenloch. First he'd been
challenged to battle by a warrior maid. Then the delectable Lady Miriel, who
lied almost as smoothly as he did, had stolen a kiss. Now, unless he was
mistaken, the ancient maidservant who scurried forward to deliver breakfast to
them was a curiosity from the Orient.
The
shriveled, old, white-braided woman offered him pandemain loaves and soft ruayn
cheese with a nod. "You must be hungry from your long journey."
How
she guessed he'd had a long journey, Rand didn't know. But he
was
hungry,
and the fragrant steam of fresh-baked bread made his mouth water.
"We'll
break our fast in the garden," Miriel decided, dearly as anxious as he was
to be away from her meddling kin.
"When
you've finished, Sir Rand," Lord Pagan said, "come to the lists. You
may as well make yourself useful. I assume you can handle a blade?"
Rand
knew better than to boast, especially when he was talking to one of the famed
Knights of Cameliard. 1 manage."
Pagan's
skepticism was evident, and he exchanged a
glance
with Deirdre that said as much.
Rand
smiled to himself. If they knew how skilled he was at swordplay, they'd likely
insist
he
wed Lady Miriel. She could ask for no better protector.
The
garden turned out to be a walled square adjacent to
the
practice
yard. Though 'twas bleak and bare at this time of year, the odd little
maidservant seemed determined to take Rand on a tour of every inch.
"I
am certain you did not see the garden," she said, adding pointedly,
"the
last
time
you came to visit."
He
and Miriel exchanged careful glances. Was the old woman alert to their
deception?
“Besides,”
the maidservant told him, "if you learn what grows in the garden, on the
morrow I can send you
to fetch
what I need for the wedding."
"Sung
Li!" Miriel scolded. "He's not a kitchen lad."
"Oh,
aye," the servant said. "He is your, what
is
it,
friend?”
As
if to prove their relationship, Miriel looped her arm through his. "Rand
is my suitor."
The
impertinent maid only huffed once in disapproval, then led them down the garden
path. "These are pasternak and rafens."
"Ah,"
he said, feigning interest, gulping down a warm morsel of bread.
"And
these are roses," the old woman continued, adding with heavy sarcasm,
"which you, of course, will be cutting to give to your... ladylove."
"Sung
Li," Miriel warned.
They
didn't look at all like roses. At the moment, they were naught but bundles of
sticks with their heads chopped off. "Indeed? My love, would you like a
bunch of these thorny stems for your hair?"
Miriel's
lips twitched with amusement, and she raised
a defiant chin
to
Sung Li. "Perchance I would."
The
maidservant
growled in displeasure, then resumed
her tour.
"Colewarts!"
Rand called out as they passed the famil
iar
white mounds that grew in
every winter garden and graced every supper table in Scotland.
"Every
child knows colewarts," the maid sneered. "They are common."
"Aye,
most common, unlike my fair Miriel," he cooed, half to amuse the woman on
his arm, half to annoy the maidservant. Still, 'twas not a lie. Lady Miriel was
a rare sight, with her pale-as-cream skin, her crystal blue eyes, her dark,
shining tresses, and that cherry-sweet mouth...
"Wolfsbane."
"Wolfsbane?"
he murmured distractedly, capturing Miriel's gaze with his own. She bit her lip
to keep from laughing, and he lowered his eyes to that succulent lip, making
his desire to kiss her evident.
Sung
Li added with sarcastic hospitality, "Perchance you would like to try
some."
"Mm,"
he said, still gazing at Miriel's tempting mouth. "Maybe later."
"Hmph."
The old woman pointed to a row of strange plants with leaves like paddles.
"You do not know what
that
is."
Feigning
interest, he gave her his most earnest frown. "Nay." But while Sung
Li explained that they were
kailaan,
an honorable vegetable from
her homeland. Rand glanced over at his beguiling companion. Her eyes had gone
soft and dreamy, and he felt a swift tightening in his braies as a jolt of
desire raced through him.
"And
what about these?" Sung Li demanded smugly, nodding to a bed of plants
resembling large green roses.
Growing
weary of Sung Li's game, Rand rolled his eyes, making Miriel giggle.
Sung
Li whipped around, planted her fists on her hips, and snapped,
"You zhi!"
Rand
furrowed his brow, trying to appear serious.
"You zhi,"
he
repeated.
Miriel
giggled again, this time freely. 'Twas a delightful sound, and her teeth shone
as white as pearls. "Sung Li just called you a child."
Rand arched
a brow
of
disbelief
at the impertinent maid, who n
odded
in
curt agreement.
"A child?”
Simple
mercenary he might be, and a bas
tard
by
birth, but he was a proper
knight. No servant had
the
right to insult him.
"You
are
both
children,"
Sung Li decided.
The
impudent maid was asking for a beating.
But
before he could chastise her, Miriel barked, "Sung Li!"
The
maid threw her hands up in frustration. "I am done with you. You do not
listen to me today, Miriel. Tell me when you have grown up."
With
an imperial swish of her skirts, the tiny maid brushed past them and out the
gate.
Rand
couldn't be more glad to see the old crone go. 'Twas obvious that Lady Miriel
desired him, and the wanton wench was probably accustomed to getting what she
wanted.
He
was
only too happy to oblige. Particularly because it served his purposes
so
well.
After
the gate slammed shut, he turned to the lovely lass, perusing her slowly from
head to toe. "You look all
grown
up to me."
"Do
I?”
she asked coyly.
"Oh, aye,"
he
murmured, with a lazy grin. "You feel
like a
woman."
He raised her hand and rubbed it gently
against
his cheek. "You smell
like a woman." He bent
close
and inhaled the flowery
fragrance of her hair. "And you definitely taste like a woman." He
lowered his gaze to her mouth and hungrily licked his lips, then dipped his head
until his breath caressed her
jaw. "Even if
you
spy on people like a naughty child."
He
nipped at her lips
once, twice,
then engaged her fully,
sinking into the kiss as she made a soft moan of pleasure. Releasing her
fingers, he cupped her face in his hands, reveling in the silky texture of her
skin, the soft sweep of her hair, the delicate shell of her ear.
His
loins pulsed as she eagerly responded, opening her mouth for him, tilting her head,
spreading her fingers across his chest. She was definitely a woman who knew
what she wanted, and she knew how to get it. Encouraged by her enthusiasm, he
wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, delving tenderly
between her teeth with his tongue.
He
slid his palm along her spine until his hand rested at her waist. But he
hungered for more. Pressing the bulge
j
in
his braies against her belly, he slipped his hand down
farther
to urge her close, cupping the sweet curve of her buttocks.
The
next thing he knew, the earth was yanked out from
j
under
him. He was laid out flat on his back. And beside
j
him
was the patch of—what was it? Ah, yes,
kailaan.
Chapter
4
“W
hat the
...
!”
Miriel
looked down at him with a mixture of satisfaction and horror. She hadn't wanted
to do that. Forsooth, her heart was still racing with the thrill of kissing Sir
Rand. But she couldn't allow him such liberties, for if she did, she feared she
might forget all about her real motives for courting him.
"Sweet
Mary!" she exclaimed in faux surprise. "Did
you trip over
the
roses?"