Moon Burning - By Lucy Monroe Page 0,61

think of speaking your vows with me?” he asked her, causing many in the room to go silent as Chrechte hearing picked up his quietly spoken words.

She glared at him, but he was unperturbed. She was his. All should be made aware of that fact.

“We will discuss this later.”

“You can’t be serious, laird.” It was Muin’s grandfather again. The man had no sense of propriety when speaking to his laird.

Unlike Rowland, Wirp was not a direct threat to Barr’s leadership and he was inclined to show some mercy. Osgard was not at dinner tonight to berate the other Chrechte one elder to another as he had done with Rowland.

Osgard had taken a turn for the worse with his health after witnessing the challenge. Memories and the present vied for supremacy in his mind and Barr’s pity for the man grew daily.

“I have said it once and will repeat it this last and final time. The next remark made in this regard will be viewed as a challenge. Who I take to mate is my choice, no one else’s, and certainly not yours.”

The old man glared and opened his mouth, but Muin must have kicked him under the table because Wirp winced after a dull thud and did not speak.

Barr looked around the assembled. “Do any here question my right to choose my mate?”

“Nay, but laird, where does she come from?”

“Her memory is sketchy on that.” Or at least her admission in that regard was.

“Did she hit her head in the forest?” another asked.

“Aye.”

“Oh.” A chorus of understanding went around the room.

Although they had heard the same the night before, now that they saw Sabrine, the soldiers seemed more inclined to accept her story. He wasn’t, but he knew that for her to tell him the truth was a matter of trust.

Trust she did not yet feel, but would.

He was her mate.

And he was laird.

And a Chrechte of honor, damn it.

She simply had to open her eyes to these important facts.

Sabrine went to take a bite of her dinner as an unfamiliar and very faint scent came to Barr’s nostrils. His wolf howled a warning and he’d grabbed her hand before thinking of it.

The meat fell from her fingers and she stared at him. He snatched her plate and lifted it to his nose. The unfamiliar scent was stronger. It could be a spice the Sinclair cooks did not use, but his wolf warned it was more.

“Verica, smell this.” He thrust the plate at her.

She sniffed delicately and then turned pale, her worried gaze locking on Sabrine. “Did you eat any of your supper?”

“Not yet.”

“Good.”

“What is it?”

“Tomato leaves, dried and ground to a fine powder. They’ll make a man very ill, but will kill a bird,” she whispered the last bit very quietly. “There shouldn’t be any in the kitchens.”

“Then how did they get on her plate?” Barr demanded.

Verica did not have an answer and neither did Sorcha, or the other cooks. His and Sabrine’s plates had been served up separately with the best of the cut of the lamb and set aside while the rest of the meal was prepared for carrying to the hall.

Anyone could have sprinkled the poison on Sabrine’s plate, but how could they know it was to be hers? Sorcha had not even distinguished in the portion size, giving silent testament to her approval of the laird’s mate, even if that mate herself wasn’t willing to be named such.

There was no indication whoever had sprinkled the plate with the dried tomato leaves had wanted to do anything other than make him or Sabrine ill. In point of fact, it might well have been a test of his abilities as well.

Regardless, he did not like knowing the prank could have been deadly for Sabrine because of her raven nature.

Sabrine stood rigidly beside Verica, still stunned the other woman had asked her to stand up for her at the marriage ceremony. As a guardian, she spent little enough time among her people. She had never attended a Chrechte mating ceremony, much less one of the rare weddings when an Éan and human joined their lives.

She did not want to do anything to spoil the moment for her new friend but had no idea what to expect. Or what might be expected of her.

They stood before the priest, Earc beside Verica and Barr on the other side of the groom. If a single person in the clan was not standing in the crowd around them, Sabrine would never have