AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Eyes widening, Edith looked swiftly toward the chairs by the fire, relieved to see that old Bessie appeared to be asleep and had not witnessed her grandson's use of foul language.
"We shall have to post men at the windows during the day to prevent something like this happening in the future and--Leave off, Laddie!" Niels interrupted himself to snap at the dog trying desperately to lick his hand. When he pushed the dog away again, Laddie gave up and moved back to Edith.
"M'lady, I really think ye'll want to clean up before ye eat," Moibeal suggested in slightly pained tones.
Edith shushed her, and again pushed Laddie away from her lap as Tormod frowned and turned to Rory to ask, "Ye're sure Effie's no' conscious?"
"Aye," Rory assured him. "I test her morning and night to be sure."
Tormod nodded as if he understood what Rory meant by testing the old woman, but Edith didn't understand herself. Before she could ask what kind of test it was, Niels cursed, drawing her attention again as he cupped Laddie's face in one hand and told the dog firmly, "Enough. No more licking."
The dog stared at him wide-eyed and then let his tongue loll out, trying to lick the hand that was holding him.
A small laugh slipped from Edith before she could stop it. Shaking her head, she said, "I do no' ken what's the matter with him. First he's licking me head, then yer hand and he keeps poking around me skirts as if he thinks I ha'e a treat hidden in me pocket fer him."
"He probably smells ye on me," Niels said with a sigh as Geordie returned with a pitcher of mead in hand.
Eyeing it with interest, Edith shrugged and said distractedly, "Aye, well ye were laying on both Ronson and me out there, but he's no' licking--" Her words died abruptly and her gaze and full attention slid to Niels's hand as she recalled exactly where it had been. Her gaze dropped to her own lap as Laddie returned to nose around curiously, and then she recalled Niels pushing her head down with his hand, and she stood abruptly. "I'd best go clean up before we eat."
"Thank the good Lord fer that," Moibeal muttered, but Edith hardly heard the maid, her attention was on the slow, sexy smile that was now claiming Niels's lips and chasing away his anger. He did have such a lovely smile, but Edith wasn't thinking about that so much as the things he'd done to her in the meadow. Just the memory of his hands and mouth on her body made her nipples harden and wet heat pool between her legs. Edith wanted nothing more than to drag the man above stairs with her, strip off her clothes and--
"Are ye coming, m'lady?" Moibeal asked when Edith just stood there staring at Niels. "Ye really need to--"
Edith sighed as the imaginings in her mind bumped up against reality. She couldn't drag Niels anywhere, and she certainly couldn't try to seduce him into giving her pleasure again with Moibeal there, nagging at them. Turning on her heel, she headed for the stairs, muttering, "I am coming, Moibeal. I do no' ken what ye're all upset about though. 'Tis just a bit o' mud on me skirt."
"And all over yer face, and in yer hair," Moibeal said with some exasperation of her own as she fell into step beside her. "And yer hair's sticking up every which way too. I do no' ken how ye managed that. It looks like ye're standing in the middle o' a confused storm."
"Laddie was licking me head when we were on the ground in the bailey," Edith explained, reaching up to her hair to feel around, and then sighing as she felt that Moibeal was right. Dear God, her hair was wet and almost stiff from Laddie's licking. It was also standing up every which way. How could Niels look at her with those hungry eyes when she must look like an utter idiot?
"So."
Niels tore his gaze from Edith's retreating behind and turned warily to his brother. "What?"
"Ye asked and she said aye?" Rory asked with a grin.
Niels smiled and relaxed for the first time since the arrow was loosed. Turning to face the table, he nodded. "Aye."
"Aye to what?" Geordie asked with confusion.
"I'll second that," Tormod said, settling on the other side of Ronson. "What did we miss?"
"Me brother's marrying yer Lady Edith," Alick told the older man with a grin.
"Oh." Tormod's eyes widened and then he smiled and reached past Ronson to thump Niels on the back. "Well, say, that's fine, that is."
"Aye, congratulations," Geordie said smiling widely. "This calls fer a celebration. Does anyone want a drink?" he asked, holding up the pitcher of mead he'd just fetched.
Niels nodded, but paused when Tormod stood up with a grimace.
"Aye, I'll have a drink. But no' of mead," the man said heavily. "I'll have one o' the maids fetch us some ale."
"Even better," Niels decided.
Geordie set the mead aside with a shrug. "We'll save the mead fer Edith then."
Niels nodded absently, his thoughts turning to the problem of keeping Edith safe. Men at the windows during the day, guards on her at all times . . . Keeping her inside would not hurt either, he thought.
"The ale'll be out shortly," Tormod announced as he claimed his seat again a moment later. He then turned to eye Niels with approval. "Well-done," he said. "She's a good woman. Ye're a lucky man. When do ye plan to wed her?"
"Where's yer priest?" Niels asked for answer.
Tormod grinned. "That soon, eh?"
"Sooner," Niels said firmly.
Tormod nodded and stood up. "I'll go have a little chat with our Father Tavish, then. If he's in a good mood ye may be married by the sup
."
"Should we no' discuss what to do about this latest attempt on Edith's life?" Rory asked with a frown.
Tormod paused and turned back with interest. "Have ye any ideas about who may ha'e shot the arrow at our lady, or how to catch them?"
"Well . . ." Rory frowned, but finally admitted, "Nay."
Tormod nodded slowly, but his expression was pensive and he didn't move away at once.
"Do you have any ideas, Tormod?" Niels asked, eyeing him curiously.
"I may," he said slowly, and then grimaced and added, "Of a sort."
"And what would that be?" Geordie asked at once and then patted the bench seat he'd just stood up from. "Sit down and tell us. I think I can safely speak fer everyone when I say we'd be happy fer any ideas at all."
"Aye," the others murmured together.
Tormod hesitated, but then sat down at the table and cleared his throat before saying, "Well, I ken the three o' ye planned to guard her in shifts, but it occurs to me that if we get ye and the lass married, Niels, she'll be that bit safer with ye snug in her bed."
"Aye," he agreed with a nod.
"And then I could send men out to find Brodie," he added. "I can send a couple to court and others to each keep belonging to one o' his friends until we find him and can pass along the news that there is no fear o' illness anymore."
Rory shook his head. "Brodie can no' be behind the poisonings and attacks, Tormod. They are no' here."
"Nay, I ken, but if he comes back, we can pretend we're no' concerned about him and only guarding Edith. But we watch him anyway, real sly like, and when the killer tries to kill him, we can hopefully catch them in the act," he pointed out.
"Ye want to use yer laird as bait?" Rory asked with disbelief.
"Well, better him than Edith," Tormod said gruffly. "She was at death's door fer three weeks, and then was nearly killed today. He can take a turn and help solve this, the cowardly bastard. 'Tis his place as laird anyway."
"Aye, 'tis," Niels agreed solemnly. He wasn't too worried about Brodie. He didn't like the man on principle alone, but liked him even less for leaving Edith here alone and ailing. He also didn't like that the man would have apparently tried to ship her off to the Abbey did he not plan to marry her first. Besides, in his experience, cowards were usually the last ones to be injured in any endeavor. The man would no doubt survive if they went through with their plan. What had his interest was that Tormod was willing to risk him that way. What's more, he suspected the man would no' be torn up if Brodie died as they caught the killer "in the act."
