Ravensmuir’s hoard of treasures, and my mother left it in the treasury for safekeeping before they undertook the journey that proved to be their last.” He touched a fingertip to her chin. “I could scarce bear to look upon it before this morning, but now the gem reminds me of the hue of your eyes.”
“You could sell it, if you lack for coin.”
“Never,” he said with ferocity. “There are treasures with value beyond their price.”
“You should keep it, then, in case you might have need of it.”
His lips tightened and he spoke with vigor. “I should surrender it to my lady wife, as my parents doubtless intended I should do, that it might gleam from its rightful place upon her hand.”
Eleanor blinked, for she knew not what to say in the face of such generosity. She was honored beyond belief by this gift and ashamed anew that she had tricked him. Words eluded her.
Eleanor had little chance to speak, though, for Alexander bestowed yet another of his bewildering kisses upon her. Appreciative of his thoughtfulness, she leaned into his embrace after only the barest hesitation. She savored his heat and the crisp scent of him, welcomed his caress with a remarkable confidence that he would not press her too far.
She would do her best to serve him well as his wife.
The company cheered at this public show of affection and Eleanor’s cheeks heated, but Alexander continued his languorous kiss. One of his hands cupped her nape, the other held fast to her left hand, enclosing the ring that she now w ore. Once again, Eleanor felt cosseted and safe. Heat spread to her very toes and her flesh tingled, her h and rose to his shoulder and she eased to her toes, wanting more of whatsoever he offered.
Alexander broke their kiss all too soon, his smile warm as he gazed upon her. Eleanor smiled in return and liked how his eyes lit.
“This is a finer beginning,” he said, for her ears alone, and Eleanor felt herself flush. Her heart was light, lighter than she could ever recall it being.
Father Malachy tutted at Alexander with little censure, then turned and led the company into the chapel to celebrate the mass. Alexander gallantly offered his elbow to Eleanor, and his sisters beamed at what they had wrought.
It was perfect. This was as Eleanor had dreamed her nuptials would be and the truth of it put a lump in her throat. If this was illusion, it was not only artful but also one she ardently desired.
The candles had been lit and the priest had just lifted the Eucharist when destriers came galloping into Kinfairlie’s village. Eleanor knew in that instant that her fledgling dream was to be shattered. She braced herself for the worst, even as she bitterly regretted that her past should prove to be so fleet of foot.
* * * * *
A lexander heard the horses and would have thought little of it, had Eleanor not started in such alarm. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes wide, and her fingers tightened upon his. He looked at her just as the portal opened, heard her catch her breath, and saw the color drain from her face.
Then she pivoted to face Father Malachy anew. Alexander knew he did not imagine that her hand trembled within his, though she stood tall and straight.
He glanced back then and his own lips thinned at the new arrivals. It was the Black Douglas clan, the oddly fair Alan at the fore of the party. There was something uncanny about Alan, more than the pallor of his eyes or the strange fair blond of his hair. Just the sight of him made people awkward.
Alan’s party marched noisily into the chapel, sparing no respect for the service in progress. Alan smiled at the sight of Eleanor, though his was not a kind smile. It was a smile that put Alexander in mind of hungry wolves and he pulled Eleanor closer to his side. Rhys and Erik followed Alexander’s gaze and eased their wives away from the center of the chapel.
Alan cast his helm and gloves to a squire, then made his way through the chapel. The peasants fell
“You could sell it, if you lack for coin.”
“Never,” he said with ferocity. “There are treasures with value beyond their price.”
“You should keep it, then, in case you might have need of it.”
His lips tightened and he spoke with vigor. “I should surrender it to my lady wife, as my parents doubtless intended I should do, that it might gleam from its rightful place upon her hand.”
Eleanor blinked, for she knew not what to say in the face of such generosity. She was honored beyond belief by this gift and ashamed anew that she had tricked him. Words eluded her.
Eleanor had little chance to speak, though, for Alexander bestowed yet another of his bewildering kisses upon her. Appreciative of his thoughtfulness, she leaned into his embrace after only the barest hesitation. She savored his heat and the crisp scent of him, welcomed his caress with a remarkable confidence that he would not press her too far.
She would do her best to serve him well as his wife.
The company cheered at this public show of affection and Eleanor’s cheeks heated, but Alexander continued his languorous kiss. One of his hands cupped her nape, the other held fast to her left hand, enclosing the ring that she now w ore. Once again, Eleanor felt cosseted and safe. Heat spread to her very toes and her flesh tingled, her h and rose to his shoulder and she eased to her toes, wanting more of whatsoever he offered.
Alexander broke their kiss all too soon, his smile warm as he gazed upon her. Eleanor smiled in return and liked how his eyes lit.
“This is a finer beginning,” he said, for her ears alone, and Eleanor felt herself flush. Her heart was light, lighter than she could ever recall it being.
Father Malachy tutted at Alexander with little censure, then turned and led the company into the chapel to celebrate the mass. Alexander gallantly offered his elbow to Eleanor, and his sisters beamed at what they had wrought.
It was perfect. This was as Eleanor had dreamed her nuptials would be and the truth of it put a lump in her throat. If this was illusion, it was not only artful but also one she ardently desired.
The candles had been lit and the priest had just lifted the Eucharist when destriers came galloping into Kinfairlie’s village. Eleanor knew in that instant that her fledgling dream was to be shattered. She braced herself for the worst, even as she bitterly regretted that her past should prove to be so fleet of foot.
* * * * *
A lexander heard the horses and would have thought little of it, had Eleanor not started in such alarm. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes wide, and her fingers tightened upon his. He looked at her just as the portal opened, heard her catch her breath, and saw the color drain from her face.
Then she pivoted to face Father Malachy anew. Alexander knew he did not imagine that her hand trembled within his, though she stood tall and straight.
He glanced back then and his own lips thinned at the new arrivals. It was the Black Douglas clan, the oddly fair Alan at the fore of the party. There was something uncanny about Alan, more than the pallor of his eyes or the strange fair blond of his hair. Just the sight of him made people awkward.
Alan’s party marched noisily into the chapel, sparing no respect for the service in progress. Alan smiled at the sight of Eleanor, though his was not a kind smile. It was a smile that put Alexander in mind of hungry wolves and he pulled Eleanor closer to his side. Rhys and Erik followed Alexander’s gaze and eased their wives away from the center of the chapel.
Alan cast his helm and gloves to a squire, then made his way through the chapel. The peasants fell
Similar Books
