She’d known Brothwell would move rapidly, eager to get her wed and bring her gift to life within her, but she’d not expected to be wed before the morrow like this. She stood, anxious, facing Father Dorian. William stood on one side of her and Brothwell on the other. There had been no time to talk with William, to tell him she supported King David, and to hear for certain where his loyalty lay. Brothwell had not left her side since he’d entered the solar, demanding her answer as to whom she would wed, and then sent a servant to fetch the priest. She stood there, fearful and wary, but reminded herself that if she was to be forced to wed this day, she would wed at least where passion existed.
The only things keeping her somewhat calm were Freya and Hella. Freya had positioned herself in front of Ada, and Hella had positioned herself in front of William. It was that show of love for William by Hella that made Ada confident she was making the best decision she could, given the situation. Some might think she was mad to trust a dog’s instincts, but she did when combined with her own. On top of that, she’d caught William gently petting Hella’s head mere moments before.
As Father Dorian cleared his throat and then began the ceremony, she stole a sideways glance at William. His shoulders appeared tense, his jaw tight, and there was a tic at his jawline. Her gut clenched. He did not appear at all happy to be wedding her. Mayhap he was just nervous. When Father Dorian told William to face her and he did, she started to smile, but the look he gave her was dispassionate, not at all like the desire that had been burning his gaze in the solar not long ago, and her smile faded. Worry set in. He seemed cold, as if he’d reined in all his emotions and locked them away.
When the priest asked for her to say her vows, she could not seem to form the words. Her heart raced. Her mouth was too dry, her tongue too thick. She took a step back, and William frowned at her as both Freya and Hella began to whine.
“Ada, what are ye doing?” Brothwell demanded.
An excellent question. Whatwasshe doing?
Perspiration dampened her brow, her underarms, her scalp. She was scared. She looked to William, hoping for a glimpse of understanding in his eyes, but if she didn’t know better she’d swear he looked angry at her. She had the overwhelming urge to run, but not only did she have nowhere to run to but she had Esther and Maximilian to think about. Not to mention she doubted she’d even make it to the door before Brothwell hauled her back in here.
Freya bumped her from behind, shoving her straight into William. He caught her with his large, sure hands, and she grasped onto him, feeling almost faint with fear now. He sucked in a sharp breath. “Ye’re clammy and cold and trembling.”
“Och,” Brothwell said. “She’ll be fine.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Dunnae tell me ye have changed yer mind, Ada. Ye ken what’s at stake.”
She bit her lip on his not-so-subtle threat and nodded, catching William studying her.
“Say yer vows, Ada,” Brothwell demanded.
“Aye, lass,” the priest added, “ye must willingly say yer vows.”
Hella and Freya whined louder. She knew she had to say the vows. The part of her that hoped for something special to come from this wanted to say them, but the rest of her needed a sign from William. Something. Any small sign to show he would be caring, warm, and not the cold man standing before her now.
Suddenly, he squeezed her hands. “Dunnae fash yerself, lass. I will protect ye with my life and nae ever harm ye.”
That was hardly the declaration of love she had once dreamed would come from the man she wed, but she supposed it would have to do considering the circumstances. Still…
“I would have yer vow,” she said. If he was honorable as she hoped, he would never break his vow once given.
He took her hand and placed it on his thundering heart. Her mouth slipped open to feel his own nervousness, and his mouth began to move. He was giving her his vow, but all she could hear was her own thumping heart in her ears, and all she could think was, despite how detached and unaffected William may look, he was just as hesitant as she was to bind himself to her. Knowing that gave her the courage she needed. She curled her fingertips into his chest, not moving her hand and holding his gaze as she said her vows. As she spoke, she would have wagered her life that longing glimmered in his eyes. It was not love. Of course not. They barely knew each other, but it was most definitely a start.
Curse it all.William clenched his jaw as Ada said her vows, her palm on his heart, her luminous eyes locked on his.This woman.Why did she affect him so? He’d known her for two days, and already she’d made him feel searing desire, as well as burning rage. And that kiss… Just recalling it made him hard as stone.
He’d kissed her to ensure she chose him, but he’d be a fool not to acknowledge that he’d forgotten himself when their mouths had met and he’d tasted her. He found himself staring at the long column of her neck that led to her chest, and he recalled in vivid detail the feel of her smooth flesh against his lips, the erotic sound of her moans in his ears. What he needed to recall, however, was that she was responsible for his brother’s life being in danger. So why had he taken her hands just now? Why had he given his vow to protect her with his life and never harm her?
Devil take it.He knew why. Because it was true. She would soon be his wife, and whether he liked her or not, he’d guard her with his last breath. He may wish to lash her for her hand in his brother’s current problems, but he wouldn’t. He’d never laid a hand upon a woman, and he was certainly not going to start now with his wife. The wordwifemade him uneasy. He had not wanted one, but in a few more breaths, he’d have one.
He swept his gaze over her beautiful, delicate body and then back to her gaze, which no longer glittered with fear but with something that looked suspiciously like determination. What was she determined to do? Rule him? Bend him to her and Brothwell’s will? It didn’t matter, though, because Ada was about to discover who he really was, who he really supported, and what he really wanted.
“Ye may kiss yer wife,” the priest announced, jerking William’s attention back to the present.
The words hit him like a punch in the gut. Kiss her? He feared if he kissed her, he’d not stop. He could see why poor Adam had taken a bite of that apple—damned Eve. William tried to pull his gaze from Ada’s lips, but his body would not cooperate. Kiss her? He could not very well decline. He needed to get her alone, so he could instigate the second part of the plan. With that in mind, he looked down at her, intent on giving her a peck on the lips, but he stilled, surprised by the eagerness in her eyes as she stared not at him but his mouth.
Ada was like the snake in the Garden of Eden—too tempting to ignore. That look in her eyes ignited his blood and set his inner warning bell to ringing. With no hope of avoiding it, William leaned down. He planned to quickly brush his lips to hers, but he was only human, for God’s sake, and the minute he touched her warm lips and tasted her seductive sweetness, he knew, with every finely honed instinct that had kept him alive thus far, that he was in trouble.
Instead of pulling back, he tugged her near. How in God’s name had his hands ended up around her waist? Her mouth parted and invited him to sin, and he wanted to imbibe in wickedness with her until he was drunk with pleasure. God help him, he did. The little sigh she gave nearly tipped him over the edge. Except then Brothwell said, “Enough,” and William luckily found the strength and sense to end the kiss.
He broke the contact, feeling her loss acutely, physically, painfully. His gaze went to her despite telling himself not to look at her. Her lips were swollen from his kiss and her cheeks were flushed, but it was her eyes—those stormy silver-specked eyes—that nearly sent him back to kiss her once more. She had a pleased look in her eyes—and a lustful one.
When Brothwell stepped between them, facing Ada, and grabbed her by the arms, William had to clench his fists not to haul Brothwell away from her. Ada’s gaze went wide with obvious fear. “Ye’re wed now, Ada, and willingly. So tell me, does the king ken of our plan to attack his forces in Glen Brittle Forest in a sennight?”
William stiffened at the news of the impending attack, even as his focus went to Ada. She bit her lip and shook her head. “I dunnae ken.”
“What do ye mean yedunnae ken?” Brothwell bellowed. “Ye are wed now! Ye will tell me, or I’ll kill that damned scruff boy and old companion ye hold so dear.”
“I kinnae tell ye what I dunnae ken,” she said, her words halting.
