‘Good.’ In one swift motion, Lianna extinguished the torch that lit the interior of the hut. In the darkness, Aileen could see nothing.
‘Take my place,’ Lianna urged. ‘That way you’ll ensure a good harvest. Connor won’t know the difference, and I can appease Tómas.’ Before Aileen could answer, Lianna crowned her with the hawthorn and flowers. She removed the ribbons, unbraiding Aileen’s hair until it spilled across her shoulders.
‘We should not do this,’ Aileen argued. She could never deceive Connor in such a way. And it was wrong. She was not the May Queen. If anyone found out, she would be punished.
‘You want him, don’t you?’
‘That does not matter. He’ll know, Lianna, and he’ll blame me for it.’
Ruthlessly, Lianna stripped away Aileen’s clothes and removed her own léine. ‘I’ll wear your gown. We’ll switch back later before anyone notices.’
Aileen did not protest because in her heart she feared the consequences of desecrating the ritual. The woman personifying the Goddess must be a virgin. And she understood that enacting a pure ceremony was far more important than who had been named May Queen.
But when she heard the sound of voices approaching, Aileen panicked. ‘Lianna, I cannot do this!’
Her friend had already disappeared from the hut. Naked, Aileen moved beneath the coverlet, her heart beating a fierce rhythm against her chest. Connor would discover her ruse and shame her before the others. Fear and panic consumed her.
‘Lianna?’ Connor called out into the hut. ‘Are you there?’
Now was the moment for her to admit the truth, to reveal herself. A virtuous woman would never rely on trickery.
But of all the men at Bealtaine, she wanted the embrace of only one: Connor MacEgan. She knew it would never happen, not if he knew her identity. But Fate had granted her a single chance.
Lianna had given her virginity to Tómas already. By taking Lianna’s place, Aileen could assure a fruitful harvest. Was it so wrong to wish good fortune upon her people?
Before she could lose her courage, she whispered, ‘I am here.’
She heard him enter, drawing the leather flap closed behind him until they were surrounded in darkness. The soft furs tantalised her bare skin, sensual and inviting.
She could not believe she had agreed to this deception. But it was far too late to turn back now. She heard the soft shush of Connor’s clothes falling to the ground, then felt the weight of him as he sat upon the pallet.
‘You know what is expected of us,’ he said. His voice, a deep resonant sound, fell over her like a caress.
‘I know it.’
His hand moved until it touched the wreath. He removed it, drawing his fingers through the length of her hair. She shivered and his hands moved over her bare shoulders.
‘You are beautiful,’ he said and, for a moment, she believed him. She reached out and her palm fit within his.
This is wrong, she thought.But this night I will have no regrets.If Lianna had no wish to play the role of the Goddess, Aileen could do so.
Connor leaned down, threading his hands through her hair. His mouth brushed against hers, teasing her. His tongue tasted her lips, and the light, gentle touch sent fires racing within her. Her breasts tightened as his mouth descended on hers, evoking a thousand sensations of pleasure.
With her palms, she touched the firm muscles, the warm male skin. His kiss tasted of mead and girlhood dreams. He pushed the furs away, cupping her breasts in his palms.
Feeling bolder, Aileen kissed him back, letting her mouth move against his. His tongue entered her mouth and she moaned as he slid it inside, the way he would enter her body later. An aching heat surged between her thighs.
Every part of her body exhilarated under his touch, and she discarded the guilt. There would be time for that on the morrow.
For now, for this night of Bealtaine, Connor MacEgan belonged to her. And she intended to enjoy every moment of it.
Connor reached out to Lianna in sleep, but found her gone. Only the barest hint of warmth upon the fur pallet gave evidence to her presence. He rose and stretched, staring at the place where he had joined with her.
The ritual had become a sacrament, though he had not fully believed in the superstition. Lying in Lianna’s arms fulfilled every adolescent dream he’d ever had. In his mind, he viewed it as a preliminary to their wedding night. He wanted Lianna as his wife.
Already he had offered a respectable bride price for her, but her father had turned him down. His pride stung at the memory. With nothing but a few head of cattle and sheep to call his own, it seemed his prospects were not strong enough.
He rose and donned his trews, his mind still filled with her. If Lianna would agree to handfast with him, they might overcome her father’s misgivings. He needed to find her and ask.
