Read Online The Chieftain by Margaret Mallory - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Margaret Mallory
Ads: Link
see any of it.”
“I suspect you’ll feel differently when the time comes.”
Niall had a soft heart. He would be the sort of husband who refused to leave his wife’s side and got in the way.
“I can smell spring in the air,” he said, drawing in a deep breath as they neared the gate.
Beltane would be upon her in no time. In the week since James and Deirdre’s hurried departure, Connor had been courteous but
distant. She missed the talks they’d had when she re-bandaged his wounds each day, but he had informed her that his wounds
were healed.
Niall grabbed her arm when she stumbled as they entered the castle.
“You’ve been up all night,” he said. “Go up to bed, and I’ll tell one of the serving women to bring ye something to eat.”
“I am tired,” she admitted. And she had not eaten since supper last night.
Ilysa intended to take Niall’s advice, but she scanned the hall from habit to be sure all was well before going upstairs.
Connor was not there. Most of his guard was gone as well, so she assumed he was away from the castle.
When she glanced once more around the hall on her way to the stairs, her gaze fell on a man she had never seen before. Her
vision swam, and she halted in her tracks.
The Sight came to Ilysa so rarely that she was slow to recognize it. At first, she dismissed her reaction as due to an empty
stomach and being overly tired. Then she realized that her weariness had made her mind open to The Sight. Teàrlag always said
that she resisted her gift.
The vision grew stronger, and vivid colors vibrated around the stranger. Alas, Ilysa had no idea what it meant.
The stranger sat alone on a bench against the wall with his arms crossed, as if waiting. From his dress, his muscular frame,
and the claymore strapped to his back, he was a warrior. He had fair hair, and his skin was tanned from being outdoors, though
it was early spring yet.
Ilysa was examining the strong, hawkish nose and broad cheekbone of his profile when he suddenly turned and met her eyes.
Men usually looked past her or through her, but this stranger fixed his gaze on her with unwavering intensity. Ilysa wondered
if he sensed that she saw something in him others did not. As they locked gazes, the feeling grew inside her that this warrior
had a secret he did not want known.
Ilysa went to investigate.
“Good day to ye,” she greeted him when she stood before him.
“I have business with the chieftain,” the stranger said as he rose to his feet. He was a tall man, and he held himself taller.
“Our chieftain is away, but he would want me to bid ye welcome.”
“Who are you?” he asked. “His wife?”
The man was rude.
“No,” she said. “My name is Ilysa.”
His sharp green gaze swept over her, making her recall her brother’s warning that her role in the castle would lead men to
assume she was the chieftain’s mistress. She could almost hear this stranger wonder why the chieftain had chosen such a plain
lass.
“My mother was our chieftain’s nursemaid, and my brother is his best friend.” She had never felt the need to explain herself
before, but the stranger’s scrutiny made her self-conscious. “The chieftain and I are nearly sister and brother.”
“Nearly?” He raised one eyebrow.
“ Very nearly,” she said in a firm voice and held his gaze. “If you’ll come sit at the table, I’ll have refreshment brought for
ye.”
She was a trifle annoyed that no one had brought him anything already. It was midway between breakfast and the noon meal,
but a traveler usually arrived hungry—and even a rude guest merited hospitality.
When she sent a meaningful look at one of the serving maids, the lass went scampering to the kitchens. The trestle tables
were taken down between meals, so she directed him to sit at the end of the high table. By the time he settled himself, the
maid was returning with a cup of ale and a bowl of steaming stew. Ilysa gave her a
“I suspect you’ll feel differently when the time comes.”
Niall had a soft heart. He would be the sort of husband who refused to leave his wife’s side and got in the way.
“I can smell spring in the air,” he said, drawing in a deep breath as they neared the gate.
Beltane would be upon her in no time. In the week since James and Deirdre’s hurried departure, Connor had been courteous but
distant. She missed the talks they’d had when she re-bandaged his wounds each day, but he had informed her that his wounds
were healed.
Niall grabbed her arm when she stumbled as they entered the castle.
“You’ve been up all night,” he said. “Go up to bed, and I’ll tell one of the serving women to bring ye something to eat.”
“I am tired,” she admitted. And she had not eaten since supper last night.
Ilysa intended to take Niall’s advice, but she scanned the hall from habit to be sure all was well before going upstairs.
Connor was not there. Most of his guard was gone as well, so she assumed he was away from the castle.
When she glanced once more around the hall on her way to the stairs, her gaze fell on a man she had never seen before. Her
vision swam, and she halted in her tracks.
The Sight came to Ilysa so rarely that she was slow to recognize it. At first, she dismissed her reaction as due to an empty
stomach and being overly tired. Then she realized that her weariness had made her mind open to The Sight. Teàrlag always said
that she resisted her gift.
The vision grew stronger, and vivid colors vibrated around the stranger. Alas, Ilysa had no idea what it meant.
The stranger sat alone on a bench against the wall with his arms crossed, as if waiting. From his dress, his muscular frame,
and the claymore strapped to his back, he was a warrior. He had fair hair, and his skin was tanned from being outdoors, though
it was early spring yet.
Ilysa was examining the strong, hawkish nose and broad cheekbone of his profile when he suddenly turned and met her eyes.
Men usually looked past her or through her, but this stranger fixed his gaze on her with unwavering intensity. Ilysa wondered
if he sensed that she saw something in him others did not. As they locked gazes, the feeling grew inside her that this warrior
had a secret he did not want known.
Ilysa went to investigate.
“Good day to ye,” she greeted him when she stood before him.
“I have business with the chieftain,” the stranger said as he rose to his feet. He was a tall man, and he held himself taller.
“Our chieftain is away, but he would want me to bid ye welcome.”
“Who are you?” he asked. “His wife?”
The man was rude.
“No,” she said. “My name is Ilysa.”
His sharp green gaze swept over her, making her recall her brother’s warning that her role in the castle would lead men to
assume she was the chieftain’s mistress. She could almost hear this stranger wonder why the chieftain had chosen such a plain
lass.
“My mother was our chieftain’s nursemaid, and my brother is his best friend.” She had never felt the need to explain herself
before, but the stranger’s scrutiny made her self-conscious. “The chieftain and I are nearly sister and brother.”
“Nearly?” He raised one eyebrow.
“ Very nearly,” she said in a firm voice and held his gaze. “If you’ll come sit at the table, I’ll have refreshment brought for
ye.”
She was a trifle annoyed that no one had brought him anything already. It was midway between breakfast and the noon meal,
but a traveler usually arrived hungry—and even a rude guest merited hospitality.
When she sent a meaningful look at one of the serving maids, the lass went scampering to the kitchens. The trestle tables
were taken down between meals, so she directed him to sit at the end of the high table. By the time he settled himself, the
maid was returning with a cup of ale and a bowl of steaming stew. Ilysa gave her a
Similar Books
