Bride of Ice (The Warrior Daughters of Rivenloch #2) - Glynnis Campbell Page 0,69

or—”

“My cousin.”

“What?”

“My cousin is of marriageable age now.”

Colban gulped. He hoped she wasn’t talking about one of the two hellions he’d tangled with on the field at Creagor. The hostages Morgan was holding even now in his bedchamber. Colban wouldn’t wish either of those wild wenches on any of his clansmen.

Hallie was beginning to think the Highlander might be on to something.

If by some chance Rivenloch didn’t win Creagor, if her cousin didn’t get the castle she’d been promised, Jenefer wasn’t the kind of lass to surrender with grace. In fact, she’d probably harass and harangue the mac Girics for the rest of her life.

But if she wed a mac Giric, it wouldn’t matter which clan the king favored to claim Creagor. Rivenloch would maintain a controlling piece of the land.

Naturally, as soon as that thought formed, several obstacles popped into her head.

First, her cousin Jenefer refused to be commanded by anyone. The fiery lass could hardly follow Hallie’s orders. There was no way she’d agree to an arranged marriage. Especially to a Highlander, whom she considered savage and inferior.

Second, Jenefer believed Creagor was hers by rights. She didn’t think a marriage was required to grant her dominion over the land. No matter what the king decreed.

Third, Jenefer was impossibly hotheaded. Even if she did agree to wed a mac Giric, the marriage probably wouldn’t last a sennight. The bride or the groom would be killed ere the honeymoon was over.

“Not Jenefer,” she decided.

“Ye mean the other one?” Colban asked. “The one who tried to kill me?”

She grimaced. Feiyan wasn’t always so bloodthirsty. But she was unpredictable, which made her seem untrustworthy. Whoever married her would spend half the time watching his back and the other half wondering where she was hiding.

Still, Feiyan would be more amenable to a political alliance. Her heart, as capricious and elusive as the lass herself, belonged to no one. If she ended up unhappy with the arrangement, she’d simply slip away with none the wiser.

Colban stared down at the water. His face was unexpectedly grim.

“Very well,” he said. “If ye give me your word she won’t try to murder me with one o’ those pointy toys o’ hers, then I suppose ’tis worth the sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice? What sacrifice?”

“I’ll take the lass to wife.”

The bottom dropped out of her heart. “What?”

He exhaled a long breath. “If it means peace between our clans, ’tis a sacrifice I’m willin’ to make.”

Suddenly, Hallie couldn’t draw air into her lungs. Just the thought of lithe and lovely Feiyan with her arms wrapped around Colban’s neck and her legs entwined with his made her feel ill.

She couldn’t allow it.

She wouldn’t allow it.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t wed Feiyan.”

“Why not?”

“She’s…she’s…I can’t promise she won’t try to kill you.” In a panic, she stooped to an outright lie. “You wouldn’t be the first man she killed in cold blood.”

He gulped. “Is that so?”

Even as the words left her lips, Hallie regretted them. Why the devil had she said that? Feiyan had done no such thing. She might be sneaky and vicious and underhanded. But she’d never even seriously injured a man who didn’t deserve it.

“Well,” Colban mumbled, “I suppose murderin’ the bridegroom might damage the alliance a bit.”

“Aye. So you see? ’Twould be an empty sacrifice.” Only half-relieved, she twisted her fingers in her lap. “On the other hand, why should it have to be your sacrifice?”

He shook his head. “Och, when it comes down to it, I couldn’t ask anyone else to do it. To marry a foe? To wed out o’ duty and not fondness? ’Twould be cruel.”

Before this week, Hallie had given it little thought. After all, she was expected to wed out of duty and not fondness. It had never seemed cruel to her.

Until now.

Over the last few days, she’d sampled something more delicious than duty. More savory than responsibility. More nourishing than power.

She’d had a taste of affection. A wee taste, to be sure. But it had been sweet and warm and filling. And now the thought of marrying a man for whom she didn’t have those feelings left a bitter taste in her mouth.

And if Hallie—whose prize for sacrificing marital happiness would be the lairdship of all Rivenloch—felt the unfairness of that, she couldn’t imagine how it must feel to be Colban. He had naught to gain from a loveless union but the satisfaction that he’d done his master a noble service.

If only the union binding their clans weren’t loveless… If the bride and groom actually cared