Naked in my arms at eve,
That he might heave in ecstasy
As I cushion him against my breast so lovingly.
It did not escape Galen’s notice that upon hearing those highly suggestive lyrics, Laoghaire’s cheeks turned a vivid shade of red. For a woman who could not lay claim to being a virgin, he found her reaction strange, indeed.
“Why do they only play Norman music?” Laoghaire complained in a peevish tone, directing her comment to Galen. “It makes me think that ye are not a true Scot.”
“I am Scottish enough to take up arms against the English king,” he growled, irritated with how she framed the grievance by questioning his loyalty. “And, besides, I cannot abide the Highlanders’ penchant for those infernal pipes. The sound puts me in mind of a cow giving birth.”
In the next instant, whether it was happenstance or divinely fated, he and Laoghaire both reached for a pear at the exact same moment, their hands brushing together as they did so. Acting as though she’d just been singed by a hot flame, Laoghaire yanked her hand away from the silver platter, which was piled high with fresh fruit. Determined to force the issue, Galen took a knife to the contested pear and sliced it in two. He then wordlessly offered her one of the severed halves.
With a vehement shake of the head, she refused to take the proffered piece of fruit.
Undeterred, Galen leaned close to her and said, “I have plighted my troth to you. What is mine is now yours. Take the piece of fruit, lady wife.”
“Is that a command?” Laoghaire bristled.
Rather than answer the question put to him, Galen instead asked one of his own. “Is there a man alive who meets with your favor?”
If she thought the question strange, Laoghaire gave no indication as she blithely replied, “I am very fond of my brother Iain, as well as my cousin Diarmid. And I also have a fond regard for many of the men in my clan.” Pronouncement made, she snatched the piece of fruit from him.
Annoyed with her insouciance, Galen jabbed his knife blade into his half of the pear. “And let us not forget the ‘fond regard’ that you bestowed upon your Highland lover,” he snarled, the image of Laoghaire in the arms of another man causing his bile to fulminate.
“Sweet Jesu!” she exclaimed, the strident retort causing more than a few heads to swivel toward the high table. “We’re not back tothat, are we?”
“So, you don’t deny it?”
A trill of mocking laughter escaped from her lips. “To what end? I can claim my innocence from now until Domesday and still ye won’t believe me. In fact, it might make things easier if I simply conjured a lover with which to taunt ye. I’m sure ye’ll be interested to know that he is a brawny man, his arms like bands of steel, with a thick head of red hair. Oh, but I do find a redheaded man so very captivating,” she purred with glimmering eyes. “Such men are endowed with—”
“You dare to mock me!”
“Aye, I do,” Laoghaire affirmed, thrusting her chin at him. “On our wedding night, I told ye the truth of the matter, but ye refused to believe that I am a chaste maid. Ye showed yer true character that night. And ye wonder why I can’t stand the sight of ye.”
“Be that as it may, youwillsubmit to me,” Galen rasped.
“In a world where carpenters rise from the dead, I suppose anything is possible,” she said with an insolent shrug.
Infuriated, Galen reached under the table and shoved his hand between Laoghaire’s legs. Ignoring her shocked gasp, he looked her directly in the eye and said, “Whenever I touch you like this or likethis—” he next slid his hand to the juncture between her hips—“you will yield to me without complaint.”
“I never said that I wouldn’t,” Laoghaire warbled, the lady not nearly as defiant now as she’d been only moments ago. “Ye treat me as if I’m a whore and wonder why I’m miserable.”
At hearing that, Galen guiltily removed his hand from her person. “’Tis not my wish to make you miserable,” he muttered, that being the truth of the matter.
“Yet everything ye do deepens my pain,” Laoghaire said, her voice little more than a harsh whisper. “Earlier today ye forced yerself upon me, uncaring of my feelings or—”
“I did no such thing!” Galen protested, stung by the accusation. “If anything, I showed great restraint.”
“Just as ye showed great restraint that morning in the bailey when ye brutally kissed me.”
“I was not brutal,” he steadfastly maintained.
Clearly holding a differing opinion, Laoghaire glared at him and said, “As the recipient of yer unwanted slobberings, am I not the better judge of that?”
“Slobberings! God’s breath! I ought to—”
“Ye used yer greater strength to force yerself upon me,” Laoghaire said over the top of his voice. “And in so doing, ye were neither consideratenor tender. When the time comes, I will allow ye to consummate our marriage, but I don’t want ye to kiss me.Ever again!”
