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Offended that he would take such blatant liberties in front of her, Oriana fully intended to turn her back on him and return to his stifling chamber, where she sincerely doubted she would find the garments he had promised. Unfortunately, her feet refused to carry her away, and she swayed slightly as he hooked his thumbs in his waistband.
His skin was a pale bronze, and his body so handsomely muscled she could not bear to turn away. If the gods had sent Egan to tempt her, she feared she was rapidly failing their test. She had never been weak, had always been steadfast in the belief in her destiny. She had never met Egan’s equal, however, and she suddenly feared he must have inquired about her people for a reason.
He was a king, after all, a man who must wed to create or strengthen an alliance with an equally powerful family, and she was a wanderer dressed in a dead woman’s clothes. It was a sobering thought, but still she could not leave him.
In her travels, she had glimpsed a small boy or two running naked, so she understood how males were created. She was nonchalant as Egan stripped off his trousers, then realized there was a great difference between little boys and grown men. Her glance circled the dark curls framing the heavy weight of his manhood before trailing up the hard plane of his belly to his face.
A compliment seemed to be in order, and she supplied the first that came to mind. “It seems you have good reason to be such a proud man, Egan.”
That she could be so boldly admiring and yet insultingly flippant astonished him. His first impulse was to push her down on the ground and take her right there. He didn’t care if every guard in the fortress was hanging over the wall to watch.
He had never wanted another woman as he did this sharp-tongued prophetess who haunted his every thought. Oh, how he wanted her! He wanted her hot and angry and coiled around him like a snake. He wanted her to writhe, scream, and claw his back.
That only last night he had sworn she was the last woman he would never want struck him as ludicrous now, but as he began to grow hard, he turned toward the path while he still had the strength to leave. Egan was ashamed to want her so badly, and yet he longed to make her a willing captive, not a prisoner who would refuse to issue the warnings he desperately needed to hear. He cursed all the way down the rocky trail to the sea, but the frigid water chilled only his body and left the fire in his soul undimmed.
Oriana was uncertain just what had transpired between them, but she was deeply grateful Egan had pursued his interest in swimming rather than her. She knew he would be a strong swimmer, but she did not trust Manannan not to have a little sport with him.
That possibility terrified her even more than Garrick’s horrid laugh, and she watched from the bluff to make certain he returned safely to dry land. Then, ashamed she had not had the good sense to flee when he had first removed his tunic, she hurried back to the fortress, where the evening promised to provide exquisite terrors of its own.
Chapter Six
Ula clenched her fists and shrieked, “Make her disappear this very night!”
Garrick nodded as though he were in complete agreement, then crossed his arms and slid his hands into his flowing sleeves. “While I could spirit the wench out of the fortress, I doubt the effort would prove worthwhile, my lady. She’s nothing more than a comely peasant. Egan will swiftly tire of her.”
Ula grabbed a small ceramic pot filled with perfumed oil and hurled it across her chamber, where it burst against the stone wall in a fragrant, dripping splatter. “No mere peasant would have dared to threaten me. The slut’s dangerous, and like a tenacious weed, must be ripped from our soil.”
As Garrick stepped soundlessly toward the hearth, his elongated shadow brushed across the chamber’s high ceiling in an eerie dance. The Druid was careful not to stray too close to the leaping flames, and while he enjoyed watching the shifting colors, he dipped his head to feign a contemplative mood. Unwilling to engage in senseless debate, he allowed Ula to spew her vicious insults until she at last fell into an exhausted silence. He then turned to face her, his expression filled with sympathetic concern.
“Rather than protest so violently, my lady, you would be wise to encourage Egan’s infatuation with the girl. After all, as long as Egan is so conveniently distracted, Kieran will be able to amass support unopposed. He may well be named king of the Dál Cais before Egan even suspects there might be a challenge.”
“Aye, I understand,” she said, still fuming. “As always, your counsel proves invaluable, and I’ll endeavor to turn the willful chit’s presence to our own advantage. But how shall I tolerate dining with her this evening? Perhaps simply ignoring her would be best.”
Garrick bowed deeply from the waist. “It will be the perfect strategy, my lady. She will grow increasingly uncomfor
table, beg to retire early, and Egan will pursue her with the speed of a rutting stag.”
Highly amused by that ludicrous image, Ula raised her tiny hands to muffle riotous peals of laughter, and Garrick departed wearing a satisfied smile of his own.
The new sleeveless tunics and gowns Oriana found draped upon Egan’s bed were fashioned of as superb a woolen fabric as those borrowed from Egan’s mother. She raised the splendid cloth to her cheek and snuggled it gently. The garments had been sewn with delicate, nearly invisible stitches, making them a joy to behold. They were lovely and would surely be a perfect fit.
They were cut from cloth of a muted grayish brown. Oriana sat down and folded her new clothes across her lap. Clearly Egan’s orders had been followed with respect to fine fabrics. That the color was more suited to a man’s trousers than a woman’s gown was surely of no consequence, and yet she suspected the cheerless hue had been purposely chosen to dim rather than complement her vibrant coloring.
She wondered if Ula had hoped she would be so insulted by the drab garments that she would remain ensconced in Egan’s chamber rather than join the others for the evening meal. If so, the haughty woman would be sadly disappointed, because there was an advantage to owning garments whose color easily melted into the shadows, and Oriana knew it well.
Still, after wearing Adelaine’s colorful blue-violet gown, she could not help but wish for something equally pretty. Vanity was inexcusable, of course, and it was doubly foolish when in her travels bright colors would draw attention and be all too easily remembered.
Her shoulders slipped into a dejected slump as she wondered how long Egan would remember her. After the shocking scene out on the bluff, it would certainly be impossible to forget him. No, she chided herself, had she never seen him in anything less revealing than a Druid’s voluminous cloak, she would always remember him.
The unsuitability of that indelible memory left her drained of hope and feeling utterly lost. She found it impossible to summon the enthusiasm to dress for the evening and remained clad in Adelaine’s gown. Not relishing another of their apparently endless confrontations, she hoped when Egan finally did appear, he would be too preoccupied to comment on her wardrobe.
After ripping off his clothes in front of Oriana, Egan had spent the remainder of the afternoon cursing himself as twice the fool the disembodied voice had called him. What could have possessed him to behave in such an insufferably arrogant manner? Oriana’s presence had become a deep and painful torture, but he knew he should have behaved with more courtesy and far more dignity than he had exhibited that day.
When the onset of Mount Royal’s damp fog forced him to return to his chamber, he drew a deep breath before pausing to knock. Oriana promptly invited him to enter, but when he found her absently fondling garments whose color was more suitable for a goat herd than a fine lady, he lost his temper anew.
“I’ll not have you wearing those ugly gowns. Not today, not ever. Instead you’ll dress in my mother’s gowns until some more flattering garments are finally fashioned for you.”
Oriana sighed wistfully. “While somber, there’s nothing wrong with these gowns.” She continued to caress them fondly. “Brown is an excellent choice for travel, and that’s all I do.”
