Page 73 of Come the Morning

“You are a despicable Norman lackey, no matter what clothes you wear, no matter how you speak.”

“That’s not nice at all,” he said politely, but a warning was in his tone and grip.

She lowered her head, bit her lower lip, and stared back at him, her eyes still on fire. “Indeed, noble sir! Will you be ever so kind as to marry me and allow me to remain on my own birthright?”

“Better,” he said, his eyes as hard on hers as the touch of his hands. “Not exactly humble, but better.”

“Well?” she cried.

“Never.”

“What?” she cried, outraged. She tried to jerk free from his touch. He pulled her closer.

“Maybe. But not on your terms.”

“Oh, God, if you’ll just listen—”

“No, milady, you listen. A marriage, legal and binding, creates legal issue. I will have sons. So you will marry me, you will be my wife, and there will be no bargains, terms, or conditions. It will be as I say.”

He felt her shaking, and he almost felt sorry for her. Almost He could too easily remember her very real attempt to kill him tonight—even if she claimed she had thought herself facing a different enemy.

“Well,” he repeated harshly.

“Aye …” she whispered, barely finding breath.

“Aye—what, milady?”

“Aye, it will be as you say!” she snapped angrily.

“Fine.” He released her, and turned away from her. “I wish to leave by midmorning. The wedding is planned for the following day—king and countrymen in attendance. Go and get what sleep you can.”

“Aye, m’laird, just as you say, m’laird!” she cried, spinning away from him. She stumbled, as if afraid he would reach out and touch her again. He did not. He let her go. Yet as he did so, he suddenly realized that he, too, was shaking.

It would not be a terrible hardship, taking her as his wife. Indeed, anticipation grew hotly within him, and he was disturbed to realize just how much he did long to touch her again.

He’d have to watch his back, every minute of his life, he warned himself harshly.

Aye …

Indeed, he’d have to take care. But he was suddenly anxious to have her as his wife, whether she chose to be friend or foe, and whether he found himself forced to house her in a tower, dungeon, or cell.

After all, he didn’t care where he visited with his bride. As he had feared, it seemed that battle had begun.

CHAPTER13

At midmorning, as they prepared to ride, Waryk warned her that the king was unaware that she had fled the fortress at Stirling with Daro. If she hadn’t been quite so angry, she might have thanked him for the courtesy of his silence, but she did not. Daro had surely done so. And her uncle was as irritating as the man to whom she would shortly be shackled by vows of marriage. He was so pleased to be with Anne. They were to be married in the chapel at Stirling the following week, and were so blissfully happy that they were entirely annoying. She was the only one left to suffer the teeth of fate, she thought.

Yet she couldn’t help but wonder about Waryk, and she was curious about his mistress, if he really loved the woman, and how he had managed to accept the king’s commands without protest. She bit her lower lip, aware that he probably intended to keep his relationship with his mistress. He was simply separating his life. He would have his wife, his title, his land, and his family. And he would have his woman on the side.

Yet, Mellyora thought, it was true that he could have rid himself of her—if the king thought she had conspired with a Viking enemy, she’d be lucky to keep her life, much less her title and land. She didn’t deceive herself that Laird Waryk wasintrigued with the thought of her as a bride, but neither did she want to accept the fact that he’d been willing to set aside his own desire to marry elsewhere for the peace of the people he would govern.

As they rode back to Stirling, he kept his distance from her. Watching him, she felt a tremor snake down her back. She was the one who had been adamantly opposed to him as a husband. He had accepted her as a wife. He had come for her again and again—but he avidly disliked her. Marriage seemed a more and more chilling concept.

As they neared the walled fortress, she urged her horse forward, closer to his. She knew he saw her, but he didn’t speak to her. “Waryk?”

“Aye?”

“Where does the king think I’ve been?”