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He snatched her hand, glowering down at her. “Not if you want me. I don’t permit my women to entertain other men.”
She laughed. “I’m not your woman, Captain Marteinn. You’ve shown nothing but contempt for me. Have you forgotten our exchanges in the woods, kitchen, and training field? The looks you give me? The rude manner in which you treat me?”
“No.”
“And did you not just say you don’t want to speak to me?”
“Don’t twist the meaning of my words.”
Right or wrong, she enjoyed how quickly she made him snap. Pulling her hand free of his grasp, she settled on one of the padded chairs. “If you’re having a change of heart, and wish to proposition me, I’ll be happy to listen.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Blasted woman.”
“If that’s how you feel …” She started to get up, but he blocked her.
“No reason to run off.”
She arched a brow. “There’s a line of warriors waiting to dance with me.”
“You’re determined to provoke me.”
“Am I?” She leaned forward. “Captain Marteinn, as far as I’m concerned, we’re strangers. We should be cordial, respectful of each other. I have too much at stake to worry about your feelings.”
“Tis my point. Everything you say is meant to confuse and anger me. I’m not a boy, Mercia. I’m a full-fledged man. And believe me, if you keep testing me, there will be consequences.”
She shot up, offended by his baseless threat. “Let me make myself clear. I offered you something precious last night. You rejected me after you found out I was a virgin. Now Lady Rachelle expects me to find a husband and I need to return to the feast.”
“A husband?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t know.” He rubbed the middle of his forehead and closed his eyes. “Domarr?”
“Do you not approve?”
His eyes popped open. “I know little about him.”
“Let me enlighten you.”
“I’m not interested in hearing about Domarr—save your strength and spare my ears.” Marteinn leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest, pretending to remain indifferent.
“Your past should be my warning, Captain.” She waited for a reaction, something to suggest he might care the slightest bit, but he didn’t move. “I wish you good night.”
Satisfied she’d gotten her answer, she left the alcove. Captain Marteinn would either die in glory on the battlefield or grow old alone, living on the memories of a woman he’d never have.
Chapter Eleven
The celebration had lasted longer than anyone intended. By the time Mercia made it to her bedchamber, the sun was starting to peek over the horizon. She yawned as she kicked off her slippers, then sat on the edge of her mattress, her mind foggy from too much mead.
Although she’d danced with Domarr again and again, she couldn’t stop thinking about the captain. He’d left the great hall early, never to return. The guests didn’t miss him, but she had.
As she crawled across the mattress, ready to curl up and fall asleep, she found three more pearls carefully placed in the center of her pillow. In secret, she prized them; however, it was no excuse for someone entering her quarters without permission. And it still puzzled her to think a man would keep his identity and intentions hidden. What had started as a silly game had turned into something more serious to her.
She deserved to know who had feelings for her before she selected a husband.
She placed them on the table beside her bed, then pulled the fur back.
Someone knocked on the door.
