“She will be soon. There’s nowhere her prey can run, and they won’t swim back to the mainland.”
Rhiannon laughed, the sound like magic stardust to his soul.
“Come, I want to show ye the rest of the keep.”
They entered the great hall where servants were bustling to set the table, chattering excitedly.
“My laird.” Cook rushed up to them, his cheeks rosy and a grin of merriment reaching his eyes. “I’m preparing your favorite meal.” Then he looked worried. “At least I hope it’s still your favorite meal.”
“All meals are my favorite,” Ian declared, squeezing the man’s shoulder.
“Excellent, my laird.” Then, seeming to realize who he was standing in front of, Cook bowed to Rhiannon, “My lady, I do hope ye like pheasant pie.”
“I’m certain I will love it, Cook.”
After showing her the other chambers in the keep, Ian finally showed her the bedchamber they would share. As he pushed through the door, watching her eyes scan every part, it was as if he were seeing it through her eyes for the first time.
The stone walls, wide wood floor planks. The massive bed in the center was not the typical four-poster with curtains but intimidating all the same. The headboard and footboards were made from the doors of the enemy holdings he’d vanquished, with the metal rings of their ring-pulls still in the center of the intricately carved Celtic knots. A chest at the foot of the bed held extra blankets and the wardrobe beside it had his clothes. On the wall above the bed were wide circular shields with ancient runes, swords, lances and axes.
It was a warrior’s chamber, and he worried she’d see it as that. A brutal reminder of the life he’d led. But instead, she turned and smiled.
“This room is a glimpse into your soul, isn’t it?”
Ian grunted a laugh. “I suppose it is. We can take down some of the weapons if ye like?”
“Oh, no, I wouldn’t dare do such a thing. Besides, if the castle is besieged at night, we can grab a sword from the wall and push back the enemy.”
“Ye know how to use a sword?”
She shrugged. “A dagger, aye, as you’ve seen. With a sword, I’m merely passing. But I want to learn. And shouldn’t the Countess of Orkney know how to protect her lands as well as her husband? Or at least almost as well?”
“I will protect ye always, my love.” Ian put his arms around her and pulled her into his embrace, kissing her gently on the lips.
“I have no doubt you will. But it would be silly for us to think that you won’t be called away.”
“I’ll take you with me.”
“There may be times I can’t go.” She bit her lip and glanced toward the bed. “If I am with child or have just delivered one.”
He nodded, not having thought about that before. “I will do whatever it is ye wish. If it’s swords ye wish to learn, I will teach ye. I already know ye can ride like the wind, and while I would prefer ye no’ joust if that is—”
Rhiannon laughed and gave him a hearty squeeze around his middle. “I don’t need to learn to joust. I think swords and a bow should be sufficient.”
“I will see that it is done.”
“Now, in the meantime.” She glanced back toward the bed. “Perhaps I should test out the comfort of your mighty bed.”
Rhiannon broke away from him, strutted over to their bed and flopped down on the mattress. She scooted herself to the middle, reached her arms back and wrapped her fingers around the rings on either end of the headboard.
“My laird,” she purred. “Are you going to leave me here all alone?”
Ian swallowed. Like hell he was.
His clothes were shed before he reached the edge of the mattress.
19
Rhiannon woke the next day and swiftly realized it was no longer morning. The sun shone through the opened curtains, and the other half of the bed, where Ian had been after their celebration with the clan last night, was empty. She’d imbibed in wine, and her body still had that wonderful ache of dancing for hours.
