“It works for the other lasses, why not me? They get whatever they want. All the lads begging at their feet, telling them how beautiful they are—” She averted her gaze. “—and they’re not so very beautiful.”
A telling statement of how she viewed herself, but he resisted the urge to reassure her that not one of those lasses compared to her in looks or intelligence.
When she finally turned back, her expression had softened. “I do not normally prevaricate.”
He crossed his arms about his chest. “If ye say so.”
“I do say so. Ugh!” She blew an irritated breath. “I canna convince ye when ye won’t believe what I say.”
Brighit’s nose flared in irritation just before she shook her head in a most defeated way. The idea came to him in a flash, and Darragh smiled at his own thought before sharing it.
“A kiss. A kiss will convince me.” He half expected her to slap his face for even suggesting such a thing.
Only she didn’t. Her eyes widened, and she glanced at his lips before wetting her own. She was excited by the idea. Could it be she’d never been kissed before? He’d bet his favorite horse she had not, not with Sean as her father.
“Ye are willing then?” Her look told him she was not only willing but eager. With the slightest movement, he slipped his hands beneath the mantle to graze his open palms up her arms until they rested on her shoulders. Her lips glistened and the vein in her neck throbbed. With a low voice, he asked, “Would ye seal our agreement with a kiss?”
The sharpest tip of her head, barely a nod at all, but Darragh would not quibble. He slid a hand from beneath the heavy material to tunnel it under her thick, silky hair and cup her neck, the skin there still cool from her swim.
She leaned in, meeting him halfway. His mouth slanted across hers, a gentle caress, before he slipped his tongue between her parted lips. She gave as good as she got, deepening the kiss to where he was no longer certain who was doing the kissing. He was glad he hadn’t wagered his horse on her inexperience, though mayhap she was simply an extremely fast learner.
Without warning, she released him and backed out of his hold, wiping the back of her hand over her mouth. Her heaving chest matched his own.
He reached for her. “Brighit, I—”
She raised a hand, shaking her head, and put more distance between them. It was a long time before she spoke again. “We will wait the fortnight.”
Darragh tipped his head, blowing out a breath to slow his racing heart, and said, “Of course… and ye must promise to obey and get into no more trouble.”
“I do promise.”
Darragh closed his eyes, struggling to quell his throbbing desire. He’d had no expectation of how she would feel in his arms—like she belonged there. Total madness. More likely than not it was his own abstinence that made him so needy.
Brighit walked past him and he took a deep, cleansing breath, adjusting the tightness in his trews before turning toward her. When she mounted, he stiffened, half expecting her to take off at a gallop back through the woods, leaving him to chase after her. That would give him the perfect excuse to lay hands on her, although for what purpose he couldn’t be certain.
Instead, she stood tall in her saddle and said, “Would ye be so kind as to escort me back to my father?”
“At once.”
Retrieving his mount, he led the way back toward her village, her horse close to hand.
Neither of them spoke.
Chapter 3
Clan MacNaughton, Drogheda
It was a lovely sunny day with a deep blue sky. The kind of day that made a lass want to lie back and watch those wispy clouds as they drifted overhead. At least that was what Brighit would have been doing had she been home, but the fortnight was nearly over. The decision that the betrothed couple would be wed at Darragh’s home had come as a surprise. Something about one particular priest’s blessing and some local unrest.
It was such an obvious attempt to get her accustomed to her new clan before dumping her there. Even wee Lorcánn had rolled his eyes when their mother had mentioned yet again how happy Brighit would be when she married. Of course, they had all abandoned her once they’d arrived, finding everything else much more interesting than helping her become “accustomed.” Over the past few days, she’d seen little of her family except in the great hall of this cold stone castle left from the days of Brian Boru, the High King of Éire.
And now she was to be escorted on an official tour of thetúathof Clan MacNaughton, the clan of her husband,hernew clan, by none other than her future husband and his parents. She felt sick to her stomach.
“Are ye certain ye prefer to ride?” Darragh’s mother was more than gracious, never failing to show her that supportive little smile as if to say, “Now, now, Brighit, ye know ye can do this fine.”
Tisa was right. Brighit could definitely do this. Move here to live among these strangers, see to her husband’s needs, bear his children and provide a peaceful place for him to return to after battles at some far off place. Oh yes. She could definitely do this. She just didn’t want to. What she wanted most was to be at those battles. To use her training and her weapons. To catch the enemy unawares and then—SPLAT. She’d crush them like a bug.
Only lasses didn’t do such things… or so she’d been told again and again.
