Rory nodded then asked, “Do ye mind keeping it between us for now that I have decided upon Lillith?”
Iain scrubbed a hand across his face. Usually, he was not one for deceiving his family or keeping secrets from them, but in this case, it seemed the wisest course of action, so he inclined his head in agreement and hoped he was making the best choice for Lillith.
Chapter Nine
Lillith rose from another sleepless night of tossing and turning while thoughts of Rory kept her up. She muttered to herself as she shoved her arms into her gown. “Blast the Scot!” she growled as she stomped to her water basin and splashed water, so cold it made her hiss, onto her face. Well, she was awake now anyway, and with full alertness, the memory of the way she had laughed with Rory during the torchlight contest, the fun they had competing, and his kiss at the end of the night came back to her in a flash.
She groaned as she yanked her comb through her hair. She could not get the man out of her head, despite her very best efforts not to think about him. She didn’t like the desire he caused, or the yearning, and she certainly did not like the way her chest went tight when she thought of the man. And why could he not simply leave her be? Every time she’d had a moment in the last two days where she had managed to shove him from her thoughts, he’d appeared where she was, as if he had known somehow that she was trying and failing to forget him.
He’d been in the great hall both mornings she’d gone to break her fast, and then he’d somehow found her in the woods when she was practicing her archery. Then he’d managed to secure the seat beside her on the dais both nights, despite her telling Lenora, her grandmama, and her aunts to make sure that if he arrived to supper before her, he was not seated next to her.
If she didn’t know better, she’d almost be suspicious that her grandmama, sister, and aunts had decided to aid Rory in spending time with her. Disgusted, she threw down her comb, shoved her feet in her slippers, and, clicking her tongue at Masie,who jumped up immediately from sleep and bounded off the bed, Lillith set out toward the stairs, determined to outwit Rory today. She would skip breaking her fast, despite her growling stomach, and instead she’d go for her morning walk with Masie first, to throw the man off her routine.
She quickly made her way down the stairs and out the great hall door and headed for the gardens to set off on the path that led to the woods. She’d no more than shut the garden gate behind Masie and turned to start on the path, when Rory called behind her, “Lillith! Hold up!”
She clenched her teeth even as her pulse spiked in traitorous excitement. Devil take the man for seeming to have an uncanny ability to find her, and devil take her body for betraying her by getting a thrill out of the prospect of being near the man. She was clearly wanton. That’s what this traitorous pulse jump was. Lust had her by its firm grip.
She heard his fast footfalls behind her on the rock path, and a glance down at Masie’s wagging tail—traitor hound—told her Masie was as excited to see Rory as Lillith’s traitorous body. Her mind, thankfully, still firmly rejected the man. She could run, but she’d look like a fool and worse—a coward. So, she turned, determined to be cold, but instead, her jaw fell open at the sight of him.
He wore nothing but low slung braies that clung to his hips, exposing his broad shoulder, thick arms, and very muscular chest that had the tiniest trail of dark hair that led straight down to—“Och!” she gasped and jerked her eyes upward to his face where her gaze collided with his amused one.
He smiled with a slow, wolfish grin, gave his wet hair a shake, and raised his arms in the most enticingly fluid motion to his hair, pushing it back off his face to expose the work of some magical sculptor. How had she not noticed that he hadsuch a strong jaw, perfect eyebrows, and full lips? Those full lips explained why he was such an excellent kisser.
“I was coming up from a swim in the loch when I saw ye in the courtyard. Can I walk with ye?”
“I do nae ken,” she replied, arching her eyebrows at him, “can ye?” With that, she swiveled on her heel and started down the path toward the woods. She hoped her sharp tongue would make him want to stay back, but instead, he fell into step beside her, so close that his arm brushed hers, causing gooseflesh to rise on her arm.
He chuckled at her barb, which annoyed her more. “I can walk, as a matter of fact, but thank ye for being concerned.”
“I’m nae,” she retorted, picking up her pace, which he had no problem matching.
“Ye’re nicer when ye drink mead,” he commented.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she bit back.
“Lillith, I’m just trying to get to ken ye so that I can make my choice.”
She jerked to a stop, as did Masie beside her. Masie, traitor hound that she was, shoved her nose under Rory’s dangling hand, and the man began to pet her. He was so utterly annoying, but he was good with Masie. Her tail made indentations in the snow as Rory lavished her with attention. Lillith gave herself a mental shake. She had to get hold of herself! “If I allow ye to ask me one personal question, and I answer it, will ye leave me in peace?”
He quirked those lovely full lips this way and that before he finally asked, “Will ye ignore me if I simply keep walking with ye?”
“Aye,” she answered immediately.
“At least yer honest.”
“Aye, at least,” she said, having to fight against herself not to smile.
A smirk turned his sinful lips up, and in that moment, she recalled—again—the exact warmth and feel of them on hers. My, but she was suddenly hot. She had to curl her hands into fists to avoid fanning herself, which would surely provoke questions from Rory. A knowing gleam came to his cool blue eyes, darkening them a shade. He cocked his head at her. “Why do ye want to be a warrior?”
She opened her mouth to answer, realized she did not have an immediate one, and promptly clamped her jaw shut as her pulse ticked up in alarm. Whydidshe want to be a warrior? Silence stretched between them as her mind raced to come up with a suitable reply. To fight? No. She was not particularly fond of blood, and she definitely did not want to kill anyone or even maim anyone. For the glory? No, she did not care in the least to bask in any glory that might come along with winning battles where she had to injure another human being.
As Rory stared at her, a dreadful realization dawned. When all the other lasses, including Lenora, had started to notice the lads, and then all their conversations had revolved around gaining the attention of lads, Lillith had needed something else to focus on, so she chose being a warrior. Her stomach pitched with the discovery.
“I think ye’re scared,” Rory said, snapping Lillith back to the present.
Her heart hammered in her chest. Could he be right? Was she scared to wed? Was that why she clung to the notion of being a warrior? No! No! She refused to believe it. She wanted to be a warrior because she did not want to be a wife. Wives were ruled by their husbands, and she wanted no man to rule her. “Ye’re wrong!” she snapped. Then she poked him in the chest. “And ye’re a clot-heid.” She swung on her heel to leave him there. She’d answered his question, and he’d promised to leave her be. He didn’t follow her, true to his word. She stomped away insilence with Masie by her side, angrier with each step that she was even contemplating that she might be afraid of marriage.
By the time she was making her way to the beach for the fireball competition that night, she was worked into knots. Furious at him for making her question herself, when she spotted him on the seagate stairs ahead of her in the twilight on his way down to the beach, she doubled her step and caught up to him.
