Wager with a Warrior (Four Horsemen of the Highlands, Book 2) by Emma Prince

Author:Emma Prince [Prince, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Emma Prince
Published: 2020-08-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Seeing Birdie in the Gunn lad’s arms was the last straw.

It had been worse than torture by hot pokers for Gregor to look on in silence as the two of them moved through all the rituals of courtship.

They’d been seated next to one another on the raised dais for the feast that evening, and given one trencher to share. Cormack had carefully cut and separated the choicest bits of the braised lamb, then placed them on her side of the trencher like a most attentive suitor.

He’d also served her seasoned vegetables and hunks of aged cheese, skewering them with his eating knife and placing them before her. Every time Birdie gave him an awkward smile and offered her thanks, Gregor’s fists would clench a little tighter.

When they’d shared a goblet in the tradition of courtly wooing, Gregor had nearly broken a tooth from how forcefully he’d clamped his jaw together. Birdie had taken a delicate sip of wine, then Cormack had accepted the cup and placed his mouth where her lips had left a faint purple imprint, imitating a chaste kiss.

Ceremonial or nay, symbolic or nay, chaste or nay, Gregor had almost stepped onto the dais and leveled Cormack with his fists for it.

Which was madness, but there it was. Gregor was mad for Birdie.

And yet this was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? This had been his idea. The fact that he’d brought this torment upon himself only made his bitterness that much keener.

He breathed a sigh of relief when the meal was over and the table was cleared. But then Laird Morgan had called for the music to start. The trestle tables and benches below the dais where Laird Gunn’s men and the castle’s inhabitants had been seated were pushed off to the sides to make room for dancing.

The musicians had arranged themselves before the hearth, with Padraig sidling in close, watching them with wide-eyed fascination. Then the piper had launched into a jaunty tune, joined a moment later by the drums and flute. Those gathered had leapt out into the open space, hastily forming two lines, men on one side, and women on the other.

Cormack had risen and gallantly offered his hand to Birdie in invitation to join him for the dance. She’d placed her hand in his, letting him lead her out toward the others.

Of course, some small, withered seed of rationality told Gregor that she couldn’t refuse—not with her father and Laird Gunn watching all the while.

The amicability between the two Lairds was thin as parchment, and just as delicate. They’d managed to get through yesterday’s initial meeting without descending into another row, and had survived the entire feast with no more than a few awkward silences and tense moments.

The one area of conversation they could both agree upon, and speak on at length, was the topic of the merits, virtues, and fine qualities of their respective first-borns.

Though no official engagement had been settled upon yet, they were clearly vetting the possibility. And after the fine show Birdie and Cormack were putting on, it seemed the obvious, and mayhap only, next step.

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