Page 38 of The Outlaw's Bride
“Aye … now go on, make yer move.”
Adaira cast Lachlann a look of simmering hate, before she dropped her gaze to the board. She focused on it, her lips compressing as she remembered her father’s advice on how to play Ard-ri well. He’d told her to attack aggressively, and so she did, moving a counter diagonally across the board so that it sat up against the defending pieces.
Lachlann inclined his head, eyes gleaming. “Interesting move.”
Adaira gave him a cool look in reply, before she took another sip of wine. “Yer turn.”
Hours, and four games of Ard-ri later, Adaira held up her hands in defeat.
“That’s it. I’m not playing with ye anymore.”
Lachlann leaned back in his chair and crossed one long leg over his knee at the ankle. “Why not?”
“Because I’m tired of losing,” Adaira said ungraciously. “Ye crow like a rooster every time ye beat me.”
He cast her a look of mock-hurt. “No, I don’t.”
The clay bottle of wine had long been emptied, and although she felt the most relaxed she had in a long while, she also felt drowsy and hungry. Outside, the light had faded. The maid would arrive with supper shortly.
Realizing their games had indeed ended, Lachlann shrugged and began to put away the counters. Adaira watched him, lazily admiring his profile, before she caught herself.
This afternoon had been a distraction, but he was still the man who’d broken his promise to her. She wouldn’t let attraction pull her in, drown her good sense, as it had on the journey here.
“How many days tillSamhuinn?” she asked, breaking the silence between them.
Lachlann looked up, his gaze meeting hers. “Five.”
Adaira’s belly clenched at this news.So soon. It felt an eternity since she’d been locked up in here, and yet at the same time it wasn’t long enough. Time marched on. She’d known autumn was slipping toward winter, for the days grew short and the breeze that wafted in through her window had a bite to it in the mornings and evenings. Only, she’d told herself that Samhuinn must be still some way off.
“I tried to talk to Da … to get him to change his mind,” Lachlann said. His face was stern now, his gaze hooded. “But it’s impossible. His need for vengeance consumes him—and I’m the last person he’d take counsel from. He’ll not be swayed.”
Adaira’s pulse accelerated. She’d tried not to think of the future, about what it would be like to be Morgan Fraser’s wife. Suddenly, Aonghus Budge almost seemed an appealing alternative. He was a boor and a bully, but at least the chieftain of the Budges of Islay wasn’t driven by blind hate.
Swallowing hard, Adaira wished she had some more wine to calm her nerves. “What will become of me?” she asked, a tremble in her voice.
Lachlann held her gaze, his jaw tightening. “I don’t know.”
Adaira leaned forward and grabbed his arm, squeezing tight. “Help me, Lachlann,” she gasped. “Ye can’t let me wed him.”
Lachlann blinked. It was as if a portcullis had just slammed down between them. He took hold of her hand and gently pried her fingers free, then he pushed back his chair, rising to his feet. His face was like hewn stone when he answered her, “I can’t.”
Chapter Sixteen
A Feast for the Betrothed
“YE WILL JOIN the chieftain and his kin for supper this evening,” the maid informed Adaira coldly, setting down the tray of bannocks, butter, honey, and fresh milk.
Despite that she’d been expecting a summons from Fraser, Adaira tensed. Samhuinn was just a day away now. The waiting was finally over.
The maid, a tall, slender young woman with dark-blond hair pulled back in a severe braid, ran a disparaging look over Adaira. “Ye look like a peasant. I will bring ye up a fresh léine and kirtle to wear.”
Adaira no longer wore the soiled clothing she’d been captured in. Instead, she was clad in a coarse ankle-length tunic with a tattered plaid shawl around her shoulders. It wasn’t what Morgan Fraser would wish to see her in.
The maid’s face screwed up then, and she sniffed. “Ye also reek. I’ll have a bath prepared.”
Adaira sat there numbly, not bothering to answer. Over the past weeks she’d spoken so seldom she was beginning to wonder if she would lose the use of her tongue. That afternoon a few days earlier playing Ard-ri with Lachlann had contained the longest conversation she’d had with anyone in a long while.
She hadn’t seen him since.
