Violet dusted her palms against her gown and immediately felt bad for doing it in front of Moira. The poor lady was only trying to help. “Well, I am going to remind me future husband that women daenae become wives by being ignored until the wedding.”
Moira reached out a hand in a bid to stop her. “Me Lady, the training yard may be full of half-dressed men. I daenae ken if that is the right place for ye.”
Violet paused at the door. “Unfortunately, Moira, I have been exposed toworse.”
She walked out of the breakfast hall and moved through the passageway. Soon, she stepped outside, the cold morning air kissing her face. The sky was grey and bleak, but the outline of the sun continued to grow more evident each second.
The training yard rang with the clash of steel against steel, and she watched as men moved in pairs across the dirt, boots grinding, blades striking, shoulders braced against force.
A young man called Alex, whom she had learned was Connor’s man-at-arms, stood near one end with his arms folded, calling a correction to a younger warrior. At the center, Connor moved with a sword in hand and no shirt on his back.
Of course.
His hair was tied back, and his chest was bare. His shoulders flexed with each controlled turn of his body as he corrected a man’s stance with the flat of his blade. He looked entirely at ease among weapons, dirt, and men who obeyed before he finished speaking.
She wondered if this was the place he enjoyed being the most. Was the training yard the ultimate kind of bliss for him? She kept her eyes on his face with great effort.
One warrior spotted her first. His blade lowered, and another turned. Within moments, the yard had gone still.
Connor lowered his sword and turned around. “Oh, me Lady, I thought our being shirtless would prevent ye from coming to the training grounds.”
“A mistake on yer part,” Violet said. “Ye will find out soon that I can beremarkablystubborn when I’m offended.”
Alex snorted. “Well, that explains the dungeons.”
Connor shot him a look. “Leave.”
Alex lifted both hands and began ushering the men away. Curiosity followed them openly, poorly hidden behind coughs and glances. Violet waited until the yard had cleared enough to stop feeling like an audience.
“Care to walk with me, me Laird?”
“Is that a request or an order?”
“How could I order ye? I am, after all, nothing but a servant ye can order out and about.”
Connor exhaled and dropped his sword, before he walked back and fell into step behind her. The gardens were quieter, and there was nothing to see but the stone paths and hardy flowers bent by Highland wind.
Violet did not waste time admiring them. She almost let him know that whoever his gardener was, he was doing a beautiful job. But then, knowing Connor, he would have a smug smile on his face and make her feel terrible for bringing it up in the first place.
“How are we going to do this?” she asked.
He turned to look at her. “Walk?”
A sarcastic laugh escaped her lips. “Hilarious. Marriage.”
“Well, I daenae ken what ye do where ye are from, but here we say vows, have witnesses, and provide enough food for everyone who attends the wedding.”
A sigh escaped Violet’s lips. “I meanafterward.”
His gaze flicked to her, dark and steady. “Explain.”
“Well, since ye have an heir,” she said, “we need nae spend time together like that.”
“Like what?”
“Daenae make me say it.”
Connor smirked before the next words escaped his lips. “I amverytempted to make ye say it.”
