Read Online The Pledge by Helen Mittermeyer - Free Book Online Page B

wine.
    Much of the time she continued to bow, smile, and greet those who dared to approach, despite the glares from the Earl of MacKay.
     His own clan gave his trencher board a wide berth. Others were not so wise.

FOUR
    Now Eros had shaken my thoughts, like a wind among the highland oaks.
    Sappho
    Interminable platters of food, crocks of wines and ales continued long after most had finished and contributed to a queasiness
     that shook Morrigan. She declined offer after offer, understanding the generosity, the labor, the honor, bestowed by the many
     workers, but she wasn’t able to swallow anything more. She stared at the mounds of food left after most were sated.
    “What is it, wife?”
    His smile, his golden eyes that seemed molten, went over her, heating her. He was too appealing. She’d not expected that.
     Not just a brawny barbarian, but a perceptive man, one who’d showed care to a five-year-old. Such gestures were not common
     in the known world. Since meeting him she’d come to understand that most women would find him attractive. The shock was that
     she’d come to agree with that and hate that other womenwould look upon him so. She should seek a priest and confess her vagaries. Ponder something else, anything. “I want what’s
     not eaten given to the indigent.”
    “None without food or shelter reside upon your land, Princess. MacKays see to their own.” He touched the heavy ring on her
     finger. “So the princess from Wales considers her people. Wife, I didn’t need to find more of your virtue. You entice me enough.”
    Morrigan just stared. He’d shocked her once more. He wanted to see her hair. He’d called her a woman of virtue when all believed
     her to be whore. When he touched her headdress she trembled and blushed. “Sirrah, I…”
    “Pardon. You said?”
    “What of neighboring—”
    “It shall be done. ’Tis your bride’s day, so it shall be as you wish.”
    “Thank you.” She couldn’t look at him, though she sensed he wished she would. He made her dizzy, as though she suffered from
     the winter weakening.
    The worst of it was ahead of her. It hurt to admit that she’d come to feel a measure of admiration, and a liking for her spouse
     though they’d only met hours ago. What was there about him that made her blood rise, that caused her innards to squeeze, her
     heart to jerk instead of pump? Such had never occurred even with Tarquin of Cardiff, who’d told her he would approach the
     elders in the Llywelyn family and request a betrothal. Not once had she had this uncomfortable beating of blood, thehammering of heart that occurred each time Hugh MacKay was near. MacKay had a strange effect, indeed.
    What would he be like in a temper? He could rage and beat her. None would interfere. That could happen that very evening.
     The knowledge that she came to him a virgin… with a son, could be too much to bear. He could scream perfidy, and the thrashings
     could begin. To some it was the normal way of things. The pain of lashings made her fearful. She’d not ever been struck. Her
     father had been a gentle man.
    Even more it sickened her to think of the contempt that could mar those strong features of Hugh MacKay when he discovered
     she’d deceived him, that she hadn’t birthed a child. He might consider it an even more pernicious act that she’d dared to
     request and receive the regency of Trevelyan lands, when she’d hidden the heir to the holdings under the guise he was her
     son. Would he see her as greedy schemer? He might perceive her dealings with Edward Baliol as dire intrigue, as taking control
     of the estate under false pretenses for her own uses. He could be angered that her actions could jeopardize his own holdings,
     his fragile, new grasp on his ancestral lands.
    To her eyes there was nothing about the night ahead that boded anything but ill for her. If only he’d been an unconscionable
     boor, an ignoramus, or a gross barbarian. Hugh MacKay was none of those.