The Scot's Pursuit - Keira Montclair Page 0,6
it to make it easier to pull out.” He studied it carefully, then said, “You smell nice, like wildflowers in the meadow.”
“You smell nice, too.”
He laughed, saying, “I doubt that given all the running that I do. Smell more like a group of warriors just back from a skirmish.” Then he gave her a mischievous look and said, “Or do I smell like wildflowers, too?”
She shook her head and smiled, enjoying his fast talk, his jests. Her life had such little humor. He used his fingernails to pull out the thorn, then kissed the palm of her hand afterward.
“There. All better.”
Just like her mother used to do. And he’d used the same exact words. She had this odd feeling that her mother was watching over her from above.
Her heart lodged in her throat, and she looked at him. And he reached up to touch her cheek. “You are a beautiful lass. I regret you have such a cruel sire. In fact, if I don’t bring you back soon, my sire will be yelling at me, too.”
Her entire body tingled from standing so close to him. He was so strong, so muscular. Then he surprised her completely by bending down and placing a chaste kiss on her lips. His lips were warm and sweet, and she had no idea how to react.
“Your first kiss?”
She nodded, embarrassed. But he ignored it and said, “Come, we’ll go back in through the gate.
How she wished this moment would never end. That they could run straight into a different life. One that didn’t include her father or either of her brothers.
Just Alick.
Her father was waiting for her at the gates, but he said nothing.
Alick raised a hand, palm up. “Whatever you do, you’ll not strike her. ’Twas my idea to take a wee walk. I wished to show her more of Grant land.”
Her father had brought another man along. A stranger to her.
“Leave us,” he said to Alick officiously. “I wish to speak with my daughter alone.”
Alick could hardly refuse, so she watched him go, the muscles in his back stretching the material of his tunic. He glanced over his shoulder once and winked at her.
That sent her heart aflutter. Her father guided his companion a slight distance away, speaking to him in an undertone, before leading him back to her. The stranger was quite a bit older than her, his wavy brown wavy hair in desperate need of a wash, and he stared at her in a hungry way that made her skin crawl.
“Daughter, this is Osbert Ware. He is of need of a wife because his died but half a year ago. He has offered for you and I have accepted. You are to marry in a fortnight.”
Branwen’s heart stopped beating, she was sure of it. She looked into the man’s gaze and her skin crawled with a thousand midges, all bent on digging into her skin and burrowing until she screamed for mercy.
She couldn’t come up with any appropriate greeting at all, she was too stunned to hear the word marriage. Her father had never mentioned marriage for her. She was only ten and nine and spent most of her time caring for her brothers.
“Greetings to you, Branwen,” Osbert said with a grin. “I’m sure you’ll suit me fine.”
“My lord,” was all she could manage to summon.
Osbert said, “I have four young daughters and two sons who need someone to care for them while I go about my business with my tenants. Do you cook much?”
She had no idea how to answer his question. Although she’d spent the last years looking after her brothers, the youngest only five, she couldn’t imagine watching six children. And cooking? She’d never done it. They lived in a castle with a full staff, including the maid who’d stayed behind with her wee brother so they could make this trip to Grant land.
“Branwen will make you a fine wife,” her sire answered. “What she doesn’t know, she’ll learn. Cooking, cleaning, washing clothes, caring for your bairns. She’ll do a fine job of it and be a good wife to you.” He cast an odd smug look her way, as if to say this would be her punishment for her time with Alick.
Her own father was about to punish her for acting like a young lass, like all the other lasses inside the keep. When had his feelings for her turned to hatred?
But she already knew the answer: it had started the day her mother died. He’d treated