Read Warrior of the Isles Online
Authors: Debbie Mazzuca
Warrior of the Isles (9 page)
He took the coin, frowning at her outstretched hand. “Ye want it back?”
“No, but I said I'd share it with you, not give you all of it.”
He arched a brow. “If I remember correctly, ye said ye had no need of the coin.”
“Well, I do.” She wiggled her fingers.
Aidan figured he could hardly begrudge her a few coins since he'd have none if not for her. He untied the bag and dug inside, lining her palm in silver and gold.
“Thank you,” she said, closing her fingers over the coin, a wide smile curving her lips.
“Do ye mind tellin' me what ye plan on doin' with yer share?” he asked as they left the barn.
“It's a present for Lachlan's day of birth.” Her hand tightened into a fist, and she glanced at him through a fan of long lashes.
He groaned. “Nay, lass, 'tis too much. The lad will use it to . . . 'Tis no' a good idea is all.”
“But it's what I want to do. It will make him happy and then he won't . . .” She shrugged. “I just want to make him happy.”
Even though he knew what his brother would do with the coin, Aidan couldn't disillusion her. He sensed she meant to win his brother's friendship. Why it was so important to her, he'd yet to discover, but it was, and at that moment it was all that mattered. As sweet as Syrena was, Aidan imagined she was unused to being on the receiving end of someone's anger.
“Ye give him yer gift, angel, and I'm certain ye'll have gained a friend fer life.”
“Do you really think so?” she asked hopefully.
He entwined his fingers with hers. “Aye, I do.”
Syrena awoke to the sound of Beth clomping along the hall outside her chambers and pulled the blankets over her head, even though she knew it wouldn't do her any good. Despite spending several days at Lewes, she'd been unable to break the woman's annoying habit of dragging her from her bed in the early morning hours.
The heavy door creaked open and Syrena heard Beth chuckle. “Och, ye ken it will do ye no good hidin' on me.” Beth clicked her tongue. “Never did I see a body require as much sleep as ye do, my lady. Come now, we have much to do on account of the gatherin' bein' this day.”
Syrena groaned, lowering the blanket. “Don't tell me you want me to help in the kitchens again.”
“Och, nay. The laird left strict orders no' to let ye anywhere near them.”
She rolled her eyes. “It's not as though I set the kitchen ablaze, only the cakes.”
“Aye, but we didna ken that until the smoke cleared.”
Her cheeks heated. In her panic, she'd used her magick to put out the burning cakes and instead filled the room with thick, billowing black smoke.
“Ye were quite the sight covered from head to toe in soot. I doona ken when I've seen the laird laugh so hard.”
Oh yes, Aidan had found her very funny indeed. Despite herself, Syrena smiled at the memory and a happy glow enveloped her. But her smile faded, if she wasn't careful, the warm glow of contentment would grow into something more, if it hadn't already.
From the moment she met Aidan, she'd responded to him in a way she'd never responded to another. She touched her lips at the memory of his kiss. Although they hadn't shared another since that day in the barn, she could still feel his firm mouth pressed to hers. At first gentle and then more demanding, awakening in her a desire so strong it seared her to her very soul.
He spoke the truth when he said she was innocent, untouched, but that didn't mean she was ignorant of the ways between a man and a woman. The Fae were sensual beings, carrying on freely, no matter who their audience was. She shuddered, remembering Lord Bana's aggressive attempt to initiate her in sexual play, groping hands, and slobbering lips she barely managed to escape.
The memory of her first kiss would be one she cherished, but she knew it was because of the man she shared it with. Certain no other would make her feel as Aidan did.
She pushed aside a heavy sense of regret. They had no future. She belonged in the Fae realm. And if Lachlan told the truth, if ever Aidan learned who she was, he would want nothing to do with her. Worse, he would despise her.
“Are ye all right, my lady? Ye've lost all the color in yer wee face,” Beth said, her brow furrowed in concern.
Pushing the troubling thoughts aside, Syrena flipped back the covers and came to her feet. “Yes, I'm fine. Now, what can I do to help?”
Angling her head to study her, Beth said, “Ye ken, my lady, no' many of yer station would do as ye've done fer us. Ye should ken the lasses and I are verra grateful fer all yer help.”
“Even after the mess I made of the kitchens?” she asked in an attempt to lighten the moment. Afraid if she didn't, Beth would see how much her kind words meant to her.
“Aye.” The woman chuckled then her expression grew serious. “Ye've made a difference, Lady Syrena, no' only fer us but fer Laird Aidan. It may be bold of me to say so, but 'tis our hope ye will remain here at Lewes, that ye and our laird willâ”
“Listen to that, Beth. It sounds as if the men are already at work below,” she cut off the older woman abruptly and hurried over to the window. Turning her back, she gripped the sill and tried to gather control of her emotions. She cleared her throat. “It looks as though they're moving out the tables. You should probably go and be certain they don't damage them. You know how careless men can be.”
“Aye, I do, my lady. I found a gown fer ye to wear to the gatherin'. I'll bring it by later,” Beth said quietly and patted Syrena's shoulder before she left the room.
Syrena wiped the moisture from her eyes. No matter what Beth said, there was no place for Aidan in her life. And it didn't matter how much she wished there were.
She blew out a resigned sigh and began to dress in the ugly brown gown Beth had brought to her after she'd ruined her own the day before. They had much to do to prepare for the gathering, for Lachlan's day of birth celebration. Syrena held out hope that somehow her gift would turn the tide in their relationship. Her time spent in Lewes certainly hadn't. Lachlan had avoided her at every turn, but today, today she somehow had to convince him he belonged with her in the Enchanted Isles. She just wouldn't think of the pain she would cause Aidan by taking him. But the thought that the two men did little more than fight alleviated some of her guilt.
Striding toward the heavy oak door, she came to an abrupt halt. Shaking her head at her absentmindedness, she returned to retrieve the coins from beneath her pillow. She folded her gift in a dull white handkerchief and tucked the treasure into the front of her bodice.
Walking along the dingy corridor, she batted at a silken web that floated above her head. Unable to contain her squeak of dismay when a black creature with long legs landed on the tip of her nose, she slapped it away, managing to throw herself off-kilter. The sole of her threadbare shoe slid on the top step and she lunged for the wooden banister, releasing a relieved breath when she managed to regain her balance.
She started down the long staircase, keeping a firm grip on the banister. Once her rattled nerves had calmed, she became aware of the low timbre of male voices coming from the hall. Her body responded instantly to Aidan's deep baritoneâcalling orders to his men in his thick, delicious brogueâa quickening of her pulse, a frisson of excitement racing along her spine.
She took a steadying breath and stiffened her resolve, vowing not to react to him. And then she saw him coming through the doors of the hall. Bare-chested, he carried a long trestle table with the help of another man. She couldn't take her eyes from him, mesmerized by the power and beauty of his glistening, sun-bronzed warrior's body, the bulging muscles in his arms and chest as they rippled and flexed. Clamping a hand over her mouth to contain a groan, she dug her fingers into the banister.
As he drew near the bottom of the staircase, she tried to tear her eyes away, afraid he would recognize the emotions thrumming through her. Just as she was about to lower her gaze, he raised his.
Their eyes met. An instant awareness crackled between them, and then Aidan cursed. Startled, she jumped. He dropped his end of the table and took a step forward, a hand raised in warning.
“Syrena, move away from theâ”
An ominous groan filled the air.
Chapter 7
The banister broke free of its moorings, dragging Syrena along with it. Her strangled cry was drowned out by his men shouting directions. “Quiet,” Aidan yelled and ran to position himself beneath her. He held up his arms. “Jump, lass, I'll catch ye.”
She clung to the wood, hanging high above him, her eyes wide with alarm.
“Let go, angel. Do it now,” he commanded in a voice that revealed none of his desperate concern. “Trust me.”
With a jerky nod, she squeezed her eyes closed, then let go. She landed with a whoosh in his arms. Crushing her to his chest, he stumbled backward just as a horrendous crash rattled the keep. A cloud of dust billowed around the rotted timber that lay on the floor, inches from his feet.
He drew in a shuddered breath, managing a smile for the trembling bundle in his arms. “Ye're wee, but ye're no lightweight,” he said, in an attempt to make light of what had happened.
Stepping away from the fallen timber, he tried not to think what would have become of her had she not trusted him enough to let go. “I'm sorry. I should've warned ye about that,” he said, angling his chin in the direction of the stairs. Like everything else in the bloody keep, the timber had shown signs of wear, he just hadn't had the time or coin to do anything about it.
She shook her head. Her long silken tresses tickled his bare chest, causing his taut muscles to twitch in response. “No, I should have realized it was unstable.” Uncurling her fist, she smoothed her palm over his heated flesh. The pads of her fingers moved in a slow rhythmic motion, up and down, up and down, as though she comforted herself.
“Good catch.” Gavin chuckled, drawing Aidan's attention from the havoc she wreaked on his overly responsive body. Several of the men came forward to inspect the damage before getting back to the job at hand. Wood scraped over the slate as they dragged the tables across the floor.
He looked down at Syrena and glanced pointedly at her hand. “I think it best ye stop, lass. We have an audience and I canna be held accountable fer my actions if ye doona.”
“Oh,” she gasped, jerking her hand away. As she peeked at him from beneath her lashes, her cheeks pinked.
He grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. “I'm teasin'. Steady now,” he said as he set her on her feet and she swayed against him. Her gown slid down her arm to reveal the delicate slope of her shoulder and enough of her breast to cause him to harden in his trews.
“I think Beth might have found ye somethin' more suitable to wear.” The cool calm of his voice belied his heated awareness of her. His fingers trailed over her satiny smooth skin as he drew the gown into place. Holding the excess fabric in his hand, he reached back and pulled the leather thong from his hair. “Turn around,” he said, his voice gruff.
She cast him an uncertain look then complied with his demand. Hair the color of burnished gold slid through his fingers as he moved the heavy tangle of curls aside. He inhaled deeply, determined not to give in to the desire to press his lips to the creamy skin at the nape of her neck. Afraid he'd be unable to stop at just a kiss. With unsteady fingers, he wrapped the piece of leather around the coarse fabric and tied it in place. She glanced warily over her shoulder.
He lifted a brow. “Better?”
She nibbled on her bottom lip and nodded. “Much. Thank you, and thank you for saving me, Aidan. Again.”
“Ye're welcome.” He drew his attention from her and kicked at the wooden remains on the floor. Glancing at the stairs, he dragged his hand through his hair. “'Tis just one more thing to add to my list of repairs and now it takes priority over the hall.” He gave an irritated shake of his head. “Bloody hell, this place is falling down around us.”
With a hand resting on the seductive curve of her hip, she looked around the keep in much the same manner as he had. “You're right, it is.”
He laughed. He couldn't take offense from her comment, not when it was the truth. And she looked so adorable saying it with her hair a tumbled mass of golden curls, eyes wide and earnest in her heart-shaped face.
She leaned into him, stretching up on the tips of her toes. “But you have coin enough to help you now,” she whispered conspiratorially.
He grinned. “Aye, I do, thanks to you.”
“Aidan,” his brother snapped, glaring at him over Syrena's head. “The men need to ken how many more tables ye'll be needin'.”
Entranced by the woman before him, Aidan hadn't noted his brother's approach. He shot Lan a quelling look before returning his attention to Syrena. “Ye're certain ye'll be all right, lass?”
“Yes, I'm fine,” she murmured. But as Aidan went to move away from her, she laid a hand upon his arm. “Since I've been banned from the kitchens, I thought I may be of some help to you with the tables.”
He smiled and ran his knuckles gently over her cheek. “Only because I feared fer yer safety.”
“Uhmm, mine and your cakes.” Her eyes sparkled with amusement and he wished his brother wasn't standing nearby glowering at them.
“Mayhap, and as fer the tables, I'm certain we have all we'll be needin'. Besides, 'tis no' a job fer a lady.”
“No, I meant I could clean the tables and have them ready for the linens and flowers.”
“Linens . . . flowers?” he asked over Lan's derisive snort. “I wasna plannin' on makin' it a fancy affair, lass.” They hadn't dined on anything other than scarred wood since his mother's death. All life's niceties had died with her.
“Oh, but you must make it special. It's the day of your brother's birth.” She cast a shy smile in Lan's direction.
His brother's expression darkened, and he all but shouted at Syrena, “How did ye ken that?”
“Your brother told me.” She edged closer to Aidan.
Bloody hell, he wanted to shake the lad for upsetting her. Aidan gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Aye, do as ye wish, Syrena.” He left his hand on her shoulder and skewered his brother with a look he'd be familiar with. “I ken this day reminds ye of things ye'd rather forget, but I'll no' have ye takin' out yer foul humor on Syrena.” Aidan wondered if the lass's gift would lessen his brother's anger. He hoped so. He didn't relish the idea of pummeling him on his day of birth. But if he continued to treat Syrena as he did, Aidan would be sorely tempted to do just that. He bent his head and said quietly, “Why doona ye give him yer gift?”
At his nod of encouragement, she took a hesitant step in Lan's direction. Slipping her fingers into her gown, she withdrew the wee bundle and tentatively offered it to his brother.
Lan looked as though she had offered him a newt and took a horrified step back. “What . . . what's that?”
She glanced over her shoulder at Aidan, small, perfect white teeth worrying her bottom lip before she answered, “Your present,” and once more offered him her gift.
Lan snarled, “Nay, I want nothin' from ye, nothin'!” With a violent sweep of his hand, he knocked the bundle from Syrena's fingers and sent the coin flying. Gold and silver bounced on the slate, a dull clinking sound echoing in the deafening silence.
Syrena let out a startled gasp and sank to the floor. Her head bent, she picked up the scattered pieces with trembling fingers.
Aidan strode to his brother's side. Fisting his hand in the front of Lachlan's tunic, he shook him. “Ye go too far, brother. Apologize to her. Now!” His voice was strangled with barely controlled rage.
Lan shoved him away. “Nay, I willna do it. I want nothing from her, do ye hear me? Ye're a fool, brother. Ye doonaâ”
“Aidan, please, it doesn't matter.” Syrena came to his side, covering his fist with icy fingers. “Please, don't,” she begged him. Her topaz eyes glistened, brimming with unshed tears.
Aidan released his pent-up frustration on a heavy sigh. Unclenching his fist, he covered her hand with his. Behind him, the door to the keep slammed. He shook his head, disgusted with his brother. “I doona ken what to say to ye, lass.” A tear trickled down her pale face. With his thumb, he brushed it away. “Ye doona deserve his anger. When he calms down, I'll speak to him.”
She swallowed hard and shook her head. “No, please, let it be.” The anguished look on her sweet face drew an emotion from him so strong it caught him off guard. He pulled her into his arms and held her as though he'd never let her go, and at that moment, he didn't want to.
He stroked her back. “There's much to do on account of the gatherin' and I need yer help. 'Tis no' only my brother we celebrate this day but a lessenin' of our troubles,” he said, trying to distract her.
She lifted her head to look up at him. “You really want my help?”
“Aye, I do.” He kissed the reddened tip of her upturned nose just as the door to the keep creaked open.
“See, didna I tell ye where he'd be. Ye owe me two shillings, Donald.”
Donald snorted. “'Twas said in jest, Gavin. I doona have a penny to me name and well ye ken it.”
Aidan looked down at Syrena and arched a brow, receiving the ghost of a smile in return. She handed him two gold coins, and he tossed one to each of them. “Ye can thank the lass fer it, and no' a word to anyone else.” If it was friends she was after, he was determined she'd have them.
Donald sketched her a bow that would do a mother proud. And before Aidan could stop him, Gavin was on his knees at her feet, kissin' her hands. At the sound of her soft giggle, Aidan knew he'd do whatever it took to ensure her happiness.
With a cautious glance over her shoulder, Syrena crept unseen from the bush she hid behind. Not an easy task considering Gavin and Donald had remained attached to her hip, and Aidan had kept a very close eye on her. Every time she'd looked up from setting the tables, she'd met his gaze, the gentle concern in his mesmerizing eyes a soothing balm to the bitter hurt of Lachlan's rejection. Donald and Gavin had lightened her mood, too, with their steadfast devotion and playful flirtations. But she was worn out from all of the attention and longed for the quiet companionship of her deer.
Syrena hurried across the deserted courtyard to the stables. She stepped within the dimly lit barn, and fingers closed over her wrist and jerked her inside. The doors banged closed behind her. The panicked scream that gurgled in her throat dissolved the moment she recognized her captor.
Recovering her voice, she cried, “Evangeline, what in the name of Fae are you doing here?” But she was immediately distracted by the notable absence of her deer. “My pet, she's gone!” She tugged on Evangeline's arm. “We must find her. Give us some light.”
“Calm yourself, my lady. She seemed lonely so I put her in with him. Look.” With a wave of her hand a lantern appeared on the post by Fin's stall. The light cast the stables in a soft amber glow. Syrena blew out a relieved breath. Her pet was happily cozened up to the big, black stallion.
Her handmaiden's violet eyes widened. “My lady, whatever are you wearing?” Before she had a chance to respond, Evangeline began to murmur an incantation.
Syrena tugged on the sleeve of her handmaiden's amethyst robes. “No, no. I don't want you to change my gown. I want to know what you're doing here.”
“You're right. We have no time to waste. Come, princess, we must go.”
Knowing the close confines of the stable would make transportation difficult for her handmaiden, Syrena dug in her heels. Dust billowed up from the dirt floor as Evangeline dragged her toward the door. At the sound of muffled grunts coming from the far end of the stables, Syrena jerked back in alarm. Noting Evangeline's furious glare in the direction of the sound, she slowly turned.
Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped. “What have you done?” she groaned. Her gaze darting from her brother, who hung upside down from the rafters, a rag stuffed in his mouth, to Evangeline, who simply shrugged.
Evangeline shot Lachlan a look of pure loathing. A look Syrena had never before seen in her handmaiden's eyes, and it shocked her into silence.
“He attacked me. But don't worry, I'll wipe his mind of the memory and release him once we're safely away from here.”
Lachlan fought his restraints. Returning Evangeline's hostile glare, his grunts grew louder.
Syrena tugged her hand free. “I told you, I'm not going anywhere, and”âshe pointed at Lachlanâ“you can't wipe his mind. He has Fae blood.” Anger at both her brother and Evangeline boiled in the pit of her stomach. Lachlan had hurt her badly, but she still had hopesâsmall though they might beâof changing his mind about her. But now, after Evangeline's's antics, she doubted there was much chance of that. “He's my brother!”
“Him?” Evangeline's lips pulled back in a menacing sneer.
“Evangeline, release him,” Syrena growled.
“I will not. The Mortal is an arrogant, disgusting, overbearing lout, with the sensitivity of a rock. He made you cry!”
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