Warrior’s Redemption (15 page)

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Authors: Melissa Mayhue

BOOK: Warrior’s Redemption
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“There’s no coming together,” Dani denied, irritated at having been caught staring after the man. “And you were too eavesdropping.”

Elesyria shrugged, her face a picture of happiness. “Perhaps I was. But you can hardly blame me. True love is hard to resist, and for a Faerie? It’s like honey and bees. Like fish and water. We’re drawn to it.”

“True love?” Dani laughed aloud. “I’m afraid you have your wires crossed, my friend. There’s nothing going on between us. Just the pretend thing I offered to do to help him with his brother. I already told you all about that.”

“Danielle.” Elesyria made a little clucking noise with her tongue. “Perhaps you can fool yourself, girl, but you’ve
no hope of fooling me. I sense how you feel. And even if I didn’t, I asked the Goddess to send Malcolm’s SoulMate and here you are.”

The Faerie’s admission, so blatant, so matter-of-fact, weakened Dani’s knees, making her grateful she hadn’t attempted to stand.

“That was what you meant when you told him I’d been sent here for his benefit.”

Elesyria, poking through the leftovers in the basket, nodded her head. “Exactly. I’m still boggled that it took you both so long to realize it. As a result of his attempt to help my daughter, Malcolm deserved to be rewarded. You wanted what was intended for your life. Nothing is more intended or a better reward to the Fae than that they should find their other half. Their SoulMate. It’s what we all want most. And you, lucky girl, you’ve had it given to you.”

Dani didn’t feel very lucky. Though what Elesyria shared with her certainly explained why she felt the way she did, it didn’t explain Malcolm’s lack of reciprocation.

“Maybe you should explain all this to Malcolm. I’m not sure he’s feeling it.”

Now it was Elesyria’s turn to laugh. “Oh my dear, he’s . . . how did you say it? ‘Feeling it.’ Most definitely feeling it.”

For the first time in days, Dani felt as if a weight had been lifted off her chest.

She could find a place for herself here. Things weren’t really so different. She’d proven that to herself this morning in the kitchens when she’d made friends
with Ada and helped with the day’s bread baking. The moment she’d laid hands on that dough, she’d felt like she was where she belonged. She’d even offered to share her favorite recipes with the old cook, in trade for help in figuring out their conversions into current ingredients.

And now Malcolm. Learning that he felt about her the same way she felt about him?

It was like the old television commercials had claimed.

Priceless.

S
eventeen

A
S YOU DIRECTED
, Eric has established the encampment on the site where Isabella’s cabin stood. There’s fresh water and natural shelter, all within a half day’s ride of the castle.”

Malcolm nodded his approval of the actions taken by Patrick and their captain of the guard.

“Have Eric bring their senior men here to meet with us for a final review of our plans.”

Plans that fell far short of satisfaction. Too many lives at risk for his taste. He would go forward, but stay vigilant for any opportunity that might present itself that would allow him to avoid open warfare.

Patrick waited at the door, eyes on the floor, hands behind his back, every fiber of his being radiating an unspoken dilemma.

“Something troubles you, brother?”

The pause before he spoke, before he even looked up, concerned Malcolm as much as any words his brother might have to say.

“In all the years I’ve followed yer lead, I’ve never questioned yer decisions and you’ve never failed to deliver. You’ve taken us from vagabond warriors to
where we are today, with a home and a people to call our own.”

“But?”

The unspoken word hung in the air between them.

“Our timing on this is wrong, Colm. We place our army at a grave disadvantage with winter so close at hand. Once more I’d ask that you reconsider holding off until spring. Should the snows overtake us in the mountains, we risk losing many men.”

They risked losing many men even if they reached Tordenet Castle ahead of any snow. Unless he could figure out another way before the battles began.

“We canna wait, Paddy. It’s what Torquil will expect of us. You ken his powers and his strength as well as I do. Our best hope is to arrive with surprise on our side.”

“As you say.” Patrick nodded, all expression wiped from his face.

His brother understood the risks and the necessity as well as he did. But, as a good second should, he played the part of devil’s advocate well. It was one of his traits Malcolm appreciated most.

“I am but a tree in a din of spears,” Patrick continued, reverting to the ancient way of speaking. “Yours to use as you will.”

Malcolm waited until Patrick closed the door behind him before propping his elbows on the table and rubbing his hands over his eyes.

The kenning his brother had used was not lost on him.
A warrior in battle.
It was, as it always had been, the perfect description for Patrick.

Malcolm only hoped that in this quest to save their sister he could prevent his brother from becoming a felled tree in a din of spears.

When he heard the door open, he assumed Patrick had returned.

“Do you want to talk about it? Whatever it is that’s causing you such worry?”

Not Patrick. Danielle.

“I’ve no worries.” None that he would share with her. She didn’t deserve such a burden.

“Right.” She pushed the door halfway closed before she crossed the room and seated herself in one of the chairs at the table, propping her arms in front of her and leaning forward to meet his gaze. “Let me guess. You’re a lousy gambler, aren’t you?”

“Gambler?” He shook his head, in no mood to try to decipher her odd words.

“Games of chance. For silver. I’m guessing you’re not very successful at it. Am I right?”

“I do no risk my people’s silver on games of chance.” It was a foolish waste of time.

“Because you’re not good at it. Am I right?” she asked again.

“No man is,” he countered, unwilling to admit more.

She chuckled, a broad smile on her face, and leaned back in her chair. “It’s because you have a tell. Someone would only need to observe you for a little while and they’d figure it out. You telegraph your feelings. I could tell you were worried when I walked into the room.”

“A tell,” he repeated, lifting his hand to his forehead.
He had too much on his mind this day to even attempt to understand her comment.

“That’s it!” she all but shouted, leaning forward again. “You do that every time you’re bothered. You rub your hands across your face like a man with a headache. You couldn’t send a clearer signal if you climbed up on the table and complained out loud. That’s what you were doing when I walked in. That’s why I asked what was bothering you.”

He started to deny it but realized even before the first word left his mouth that she was correct. Instead he responded by laying his hands flat upon the table in front of him.

Dani stood, a grin spreading over her face. “Oh, I do like a man who listens to good advice. I know you have stuff going on, so I won’t keep you any longer. I just stopped by to make sure you planned to be at tomorrow’s midday meal. Ada is allowing me to fix something special and I want to make sure you’re there to try it.”

Had he not yet made it clear to her that he did not consider her a servant here? Obviously, he had not. He rose to his feet and moved to where she stood, catching up her hand when he reached her side.

“Yer no one of the kitchen staff, Dani, and you’ve no a need to learn to be one. Yer a lady, aye? My lady. You can spend yer day in . . .” He paused, realizing as he spoke that he wasn’t exactly sure how the lady of the castle might spend her time. “In pursuit of a lady’s activities,” he finished somewhat belatedly.

“A lady’s activities?” she echoed, her smile lighting
her eyes and lilting in her voice. “Oh, Malcolm, I have no idea what those might be, but please understand, I love to cook. It’s a pleasure to me to create good food, and a whole new challenge here. It’s something I want to do, not something I think you expect me to do.”

As if he could deny her anything that brought her pleasure when she looked at him like that. He would have told her that very thing, too, but a flicker of movement caught his eye. The door, almost closed a moment earlier, was less so now. Someone had moved it, ever so slightly.

His guess was that Dermid or his man Rauf stood just outside. Listening.

One look at Dani and it was clear she suspected as much. Her back facing the door, she cut her eyes in that direction and back to him again as a slow, mischievous smile lifted her lips.

With a waggle of her eyebrows, she lifted her free hand to his neck, twining her fingers in his hair.

“So you’ll be sure not to miss tomorrow’s midday meal, right? I want to surprise you.” Stretching up on tiptoe, she pressed her lips close to his ear. “Dermid, you think?” she whispered.

He could only nod his answer, his body reacting too intensely to having her so close, the scent of fresh flowers filling his senses. His free arm tightened around her, pulling her against him, and he bent to her, his mouth finding hers.

Her lips were soft and pliant, opening to him, her tongue
dancing against his. She tasted of mint and cinnamon, like an end-of-meal sweet he found himself desperately craving.

Both his hands were at her back now, sliding down, lower, to capture the perfectly rounded curves of her buttocks, lifting her from her feet and pressing her against his heated, hardened desire.

She groaned into his mouth, and both her hands tangled in the hair at the base of his neck, sending shivers down his spine.

When she lifted one leg, hooking her foot behind his thigh, it was all over. Desire spiraled into a rage of need, beyond his ability to understand.

In two long strides he backed her into the hard slab of wood and pressed against her, crushing her against the heavy oak door.

The partially open heavy oak door.

Clasped together, they stumbled against the solid surface behind them as it gave way, slamming the door shut as their bodies fell against it.

A yelp from the other side hit Malcolm’s ears like a bucket of cold water tossed onto a randy dog.

He stared into Dani’s eyes, huge liquid pools, a languid green he wanted nothing more than to immerse himself in, as he fought to calm his breathing.

A scratching at the wood and he looked down to see a wiggling fold of plaid caught in the closed door.

Dani’s gaze had followed his and a strangled little huffing noise escaped from her as she stared at the twitching material.

Pray Odin he hadn’t made her cry! How he could have so lost control of his actions, he could not say.

Desperation invaded his heart as the noise continued, her whole body trembling with it as she clamped a hand over her mouth.

With a tentative finger, he raised her chin, his desperation washed away with the relief of what he found.

Her eyes sparkled as her lips pressed together in a vain attempt to hold in the sounds she made. No tears. Laughter!

“Lord, Malcolm,” she whispered, even as she fought the giggles that threatened to overcome her. “If you don’t open that door, do you think he’ll just abandon his plaid and make a run for it? I can already picture him. . . .”

Another scratch at the wood and she gave up all pretext, covering her mouth with both her hands as she leaned her head against his chest.

The vision she suggested was enough to bring a smile to his face as well.

One deep breath to regain himself and he was ready. With his hands on her shoulders, he directed her away from the door and pulled it open to greet a red-faced Dermid on the other side.

“There was something you wanted, little brother?”

Dermid opened his mouth and closed it just as quickly, once, twice, his eyes darting every direction except straight ahead.

Their spy had apparently gotten more than he’d bargained for.

“Well, I’m sure you boys have plenty to talk about, so I’ll
be leaving you to it.” Dani, having recovered, pushed between them, stopping at the last minute to blind Malcolm with another brilliant smile. “Don’t forget, now. I’m preparing a surprise for you tomorrow.”

Forget? Not likely.

Though he sincerely doubted there was anything she could prepare for tomorrow that would surprise him more than she had here today.

E
ighteen

L
IFE WAS GOOD
. Not just good. It was right next door to perfect.

Dani shook the long piece of linen she held, snapping it in the air in front of her with a satisfying crack. The cloth the kitchen girl, Jeanne, had brought to her would serve as a wonderful apron.

She wrapped it around her middle, tying the ends behind at her waist. Later she’d see if she couldn’t work with the seamstresses in the castle to come up with a proper apron, but for now, this would work just fine.

She twirled in a tight little circle, feeling more than a bit like a fairy-tale princess. She was making friends in her new home, and yesterday her fairy-tale prince had all but declared his intention of marrying her.
My lady,
he called her. And not in the vernacular of time, but as in “You are my lady.” Little wonder she hadn’t been able to sleep in more than catnaps all night.

With another twirl and one last reassuring pat to the coil of hair she’d fixed in place, she was out the door and hurrying through the dawn-gray halls to the stairs and beyond.

To her surprise, even as early as it was, the castle was already astir, with young boys and girls bustling about in the great hall. She passed through the cavernous room with its great fireplaces set at either side, wondering at all the activity.

Maids scuttled down the normally empty hallway, smiling and nodding in greeting as they passed, relieving some of Dani’s anxiety. It almost felt as if she’d passed some entrance exam over the past few days in the kitchens and was now accepted as someone who belonged.

She paused at the entry to the kitchen, squaring her shoulders. Though she had yet to carry off a dish on her own, today would be her true test, at least for her own sense of self. From start to finish, from baking the bread this morning to putting together the dessert she planned for the midday meal, today she would put her newly acquired knowledge to work.

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