“Ye’d better understand that only I ken what’s best for her, nae ye nor anybody else. So ye need nae concern yerself with her,” Edan ground out.
He stepped forward threateningly again, and Olivia suddenly realized he was slowly and deliberately blocking Nurkirk’s view of her.
“Now, this conversation is over. I dinnae want to see yer face around here again, Nurkirk, nor anywhere inside me borders, or it’ll be worse for ye. And I strongly advise ye to leave now. Because if ye dinnae go at once, then I may end up doin’ somethin’ye’llregret.”
Olivia saw the look in Nurkirk’s eyes turn into icy hatred. Terrified by its ferocity, she was suddenly convinced that they would begin fighting. It was surprising to find herself worryingthat Edan might get hurt. Thankfully, the pair only glared at each other, but the tension in the air was palpable.
Nurkirk straightened up and said, “Ye seem to be forgettin’ that ye and yer men have been away for a year, fightin’ someone else’s war, Aberfeld. Ye’re battle-weary, the lot of ye, and nae as strong ye used to be.”
Edan squared up to him. “Is that a threat? Because if it is, then ye’d better be able to back it up,” he shot back.
“I’m nae threatenin’ ye, man,” Nurkirk replied hastily enough to make Olivia suspect that he was lying. “I’m simply statin’ a fact.”
“Is that so?” Edan replied. “Well, I suppose we’ll see whether ye’re lyin’ or nae in due course, eh? Now, as I said, ’tis time to for ye to leave. And dinnae come back. The guards will show ye out.”
Nurkirk gave him a last venomous glare before turning on his elegant heel and stepping out of the hall.
Olivia and Edan stood in tense silence, not looking at each other, as the door closed and the sound of several retreating footsteps echoed down the hallway.
4
Silence fell over them, and Olivia felt terribly uneasy. The hatred in Nurkirk’s eyes had shocked her, and she was convinced the man had been lying when he denied threatening them. Partly seeking reassurance and partly wanting to show her support for Edan, she reached out and grabbed his hand.
When he turned to look at her, Olivia could see from the darkness in his eyes that he was seething inside. The force of his contained fury was like a physical blow.
Believing that it must be directed at her, that Edan believed she had something to do with plotting to replace him through another marriage, she hurried to convince him otherwise.
“Ye must believe me, Edan. I had nothin’ to do with all of this. I’ve never even met that man before, let alone discussed marriage with him. It was the council who started all this, under the pretext?—”
“Hush,” Edan told her in a voice that belied the cold fury in his eyes. “Dinnae say another word.”
To her immense surprise, he cupped her face in his hands and brushed his thumb over her lips with a tenderness she could never have imagined he possessed. She quivered beneath his touch.
“There’s some urgent business I must see to, but I’ll meet ye in yer chambers later.” Then, looking intently into her eyes, he added in a soft voice that sent shivers through her, “After tonight, nay one will doubt that ye’re mine.”
As quickly as he had cupped her face, he released her and strode to the door, leaving without looking back.
Dazed and confused, Olivia stood looking after him. Unconsciously, her hand rose to her lips, her fingertips lightly tracing where he had touched them. It felt as though they were on fire.
“What are ye doin’ on yer knees, Megan? Sayin’ yer prayers?” Olivia asked jokingly as she entered her chambers, went over to the bed, and laid out clean clothing on top.
“Nay, I’m doin’ what needs to be done before ye retire tonight,” Megan explained, holding up a hunk of bread and a small dish of salt.
“Oh? And what, pray tell, is that?” Olivia asked, standing with her hands on hips, watching while the maid carefully placed the bread and salt beneath the bed.
Megan dropped the counterpane back into place and smoothed it before rising to her feet. “Why, ’tis an offerin’ to the gods, to ensure that ye and the Laird have good luck and that ye give him many strong bairns,” she explained, dusting off her hands.
“So, ’tis a sort of fertility blessing?” Olivia asked, starting to laugh at Megan’s perfect sincerity.
“Aye, that’s exactly what it is, Me Lady. And ye shouldnae laugh at such things. ’Tis serious.”
“I’m sorry, Megan. I didnae mean to laugh,” Olivia apologized, unable to stop her giggles.
The maid’s russet eyebrows drew together in a frown. “I ken ye dinnae believe in such traditions, Me Lady, but I do. And even if ye dinnae believe in them, ’tis best to take nay chances.”
Olivia stopped laughing and took the girl’s hand fondly. “Thank ye, Meg. I suppose ye’re right, and it cannae do any harm.”
Megan’s frown faded but quickly returned when Olivia added mischievously, “Except to attract an army of mice.”
