Chapter 8

“Now? Ye wish tae go riding now?” Ilyssa asked, not doing much to hide the irritation in her tone. She had only just finished breakfast and had watched Bran throughout the meal, though he had avoided her gaze at all costs. He conversed with a distracted Tad and Laird Gilroy, who had spoken of his need that day to visit neighboring towns on clan business.

“Aye, of course,” Cillian stepped toward Ilyssa in the hallway of castle, offering his hand to her with his usual charming smile. “I ken now how much ye like tae ride. At least give me the chance tae keep up with ye.” He winked at her. “After all, wedded couples should ken one another’s physical abilities… should they nae?” The innuendo was obvious.

She supposed with other women such words were seductive, charming, even thrilling. Strangely, all Ilyssa felt was cold. The mere idea of being physical in any way with Cillian made her hands lock together tightly.

“Well, I…” She glanced across the hallway. Bran was leaving the feasting room with a rather insistent Catreena on his tail, who was doing her very best to get his attention. Bran hesitated for just a second, glancing Ilyssa’s way. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, as if trying to break free, then without a word, Bran turned away.

“Bran!” Catreena hissed, racing after him again as she clutched the skirt of her gown high. “Ye cannae avoid this conversation forever. Ye and I must talk.”

“Perhaps it is best we give the braither and sister time alone, dae ye nae think?” Cillian asked, stepping toward Ilyssa once again. “It seems Lady Catreena has much tae say tae him.”

“Aye. Aye, I suppose ye are right.” Ilyssa knew she could not object. As much as she wished to find a way to run back to Bran’s side, she could not, and when she remembered what had passed between them the night before, she recalled all too well the way that he had insisted she leave his room.

Whatever is happening between us, he isnae happy about it, is he?

“Aye, let us go fer that ride.” Ilyssa nodded. Rather than taking Cillian’s offered hand, she strode out of the keep and into the courtyard. Cillian raced to keep up with her and tried many starters to conversations, all which were dutifully ignored by Ilyssa.

“Is it nae a beautiful day? What glorious sunshine we are having today.”

“Hmm.” She nodded, not saying a word.

“The snow will be melted in nay time, will it nae?”

“I suppose so.” She allowed those words, then fell quiet again. As they reached the stable, she tucked her wolfskin fur tight around her shoulders and mounted a horse which had already been prepared for her. Cillian stood by her side for a second, showing no sign of going to his own animal.

“Ye rode much at home then?” he asked.

This time, she could not escape answering him with just a curt nod.

“Aye, I did. It gave me freedom,” she said with a sigh, looking out to the hills beyond the opening of the stable.

“Were ye always escorted? By Bran, perhaps?” His mention of Bran made her stomach clench. She kept her eyes on the hills as she answered him.

“Sometimes. Sometimes by me braithers.”

“He seems very protective of ye,” Cillian muttered, now moving to the horse that had been prepared for him. He took the reins from the stable boy and dismissed him with a sharp wave of his hand.

Ilyssa eyed him as he did so. It struck her that Bran would have thanked the stable boy for his help with the horse.

“I suppose he is as good as another braither tae ye,” Cillian went on.

A braither? Ergh!

The idea that she was fantasizing about a man who was practically her kin made her wriggle in the saddle uncomfortably.

“We are close,” she murmured, refusing to say anymore. “Well, shall we ride?” She flicked the reins and urged the horse out of the stable. Cillian shot off after her and did a decent job of keeping up with her.

When they reached the bridge leading out of the castle, he was at her side, his eyes more on her than the path ahead.

“I hear from me faither that Bran has something of a reputation.”

“A reputation? What kind?” She slowed up her horse, jerking her head around to watch Cillian.

“Well…” He grimaced, pausing as if in pain. “A diplomat. His braither’s right-hand man when it comes tae politics. I hear he travels much across the clans. It’s said he has a lover in every clan.”

“That is nae true!” Ilyssa pulled sharply on the reins of her horse, turning fierce eyes on Cillian. “Bran isnae a cad, or a rogue. He is a good man. Ye have yer information wrong, Cillian. Quite wrong indeed.”

She faded, realizing that he hadn’t defended himself at all. As she had stopped riding, so had he. He was staring at her in the most curious way, with a very small smile turning up the edge of his lips.

“That was quite a reaction,” he murmured, the words barely noticeable at all.

Ilyssa’s breath stalled in her throat.

He was provoking me. He wanted tae see a reaction.

“Perhaps he is nae a braither tae ye and I was wrong. Perhaps he is something more than that?”

“Are we here tae talk, or tae ride?” she said in challenge and flashed him a forceful smile. When his eyebrows shot up in surprise, she flicked the reins hard and urged the horse to gallop away. In but a second, she was shooting off into the distance.

Try tae keep up with me now, Cillian.

“Bran. Bran!” Catreena was still on his tail. She had chased him through the castle, every single room in which he had tried to take refuge from her, and she was now following him out into the gardens.

Bran even considered wildly hiding in a tree, but the days were gone where he was small enough to climb trees without making branches fall down. He tried, instead, to mask his body around the back of a yew tree, but Catreena came upon him fast, making herself jump by finding him suddenly and yelping in surprise.

“Oh, me heart!” She planted a hand to her chest. “Dinnae dae that.”

“Ye were the one following me,” he reminded her. “Ye dinnae wish tae find me? Then dinnae look fer me.”

“Ye and I must talk.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the yew bush, deeper into the garden.

Bran sighed, knowing it was probably best to get this conversation over and done with. Throughout breakfast, both Ilyssa and Catreena had been staring at him. He could guess well enough why Ilyssa was looking at him. Her cheeks were red, suggesting that just like him, she was thinking of what had passed between them in his bedchamber the night before. Catreena, on the other hand, had looked sharply between him and Ilyssa, constantly.

She kens. Or at least, she suspects.

Catreena dragged him to the very edge of the garden where they halted beneath a Douglas fir that glittered with ice. They stood beside a low-lying stone wall, high over the nearby loch, staring down into its watery depths, which had frozen at the edge and were just beginning to melt in the strong sunlight of the day.

“What in the wee man’s name is happening with ye and Ilyssa?” Catreena asked.

Bran said nothing. He folded his arms across his chest and stared at Catreena. He could not get away with lying, not now. Something years of diplomacy had taught him was that it was sometimes wise not to speak too fast.

“Oh, Bran!” In her anger, Catreena reached out and slapped him around the arm.

“Ow. What was that fer?”

“Och, I barely touched ye.” She waved a hand dismissively at him, moving her palms to her hips. “Ye think yer tricks in politics will help ye now? Maybe staying silent like stone helps with people who dinnae ken ye, but I ken ye better than ye think.” She pointed straight at him. “Ye and Ilyssa are dancing around one another. Dinnae even try tae deny it.”

“I wasnae going tae.”

“Tae deny it now is madness! Wait, what!?” She jerked her head toward him, plainly realizing exactly what he had said. “Ye dinnae deny it?” Her face paled.

He offered the smallest shake of his head.

“Bran, what are ye doing?” She stepped toward him; her voice much quieter now. “Ye care fer Ilyssa, dinnae ye? Yet ye wait fer the moment she may be wed tae another tae declare it?”

“I have declared nothing.” He shook his head again. “It’s all just…” He sighed.

“A mess?” She offered, and he nodded. “What are ye going tae dae, Bran?”

He still had no answer, and anything he might have wished to say was cut short as they both heard footsteps hurrying their way. They turned in unison to see Tad marching toward them, with such heavy purpose in his steps that the gravel beneath his boots scattering around him.

“Dinnae say anything tae him,” Bran pleaded under his breath.

“What? Tell her braither ye are in love with her?”

“I didnae say it was love!”

“Aye, sounds a wise idea, doesnae it?” Catreena chuckled under her breath with full irony. “Tad would probably hang and draw ye himself.”

“What?” Bran asked sharply.

Catreena turned and smiled as Tad reached them, as the time to discuss anymore had run out.

“Tad,” Catreena declared happily as he reached them. “So, have ye had a moment of brilliance yet figuring out how tae save yer sister from this marriage? Aye, I thought nae.”

“Always so doubtful of me, Cat.” He scoffed, blowing a strand of long dark hair of his eyes.

Catreena flinched at Bran’s side, and he looked toward her. She always seemed to do this whenever Tad called her Cat.

“I have had an idea.” Tad addressed the two of them, looking between them and speaking in a quiet rush. “Laird Gilroy has refused me first offer of money instead of Ilyssa’s hand, but I have written tae me council members tae see if they will concede tae a gift of land. Money, land, and an alliance – what more could they ask fer? Surely it will give them all they need.”

“If Laird Gilroy agrees,” Bran muttered.

“Why would he nae?” Catreena stood straight, clearly outraged just at the suggestion that he may not. “Why would he still insist on the marriage when offered with so much instead?”

“I dinnae ken.” Bran couldn’t explain it. He looked away across the loch, his eyes settling on the thawing frost. He couldn’t wash from his mind the memory of the way Laird Gilroy and Cillian had stared at Ilyssa when they had first arrived.

It was nae just that she was like a prize, but a suckling pig ready fer a feast.

“It is our best hope. The moment I receive news from me council today, I will have a meeting with Laird Gilroy.” Tad looked hopeful, even smiling, but Bran could not join in.

Catreena reached out and hit Bran around the arm again.

“Ow. Why dae ye keep hitting me today?” Bran said, glowering at her. Tad merely chuckled.

“Have hope, will ye?” she pleaded. “Ye have the melancholy.”

I wonder why.

Bran turned away. Across the loch, he caught sight of a woman atop her horse with her dark hair wild behind her. It was Ilyssa, unmistakably so and at the sight of her his felt suddenly heated. Only, she was not alone. Behind her, racing to catch up on his own horse, was Cillian.

Ilyssa turned and dumped another bucket of hot water into the bath. She adjusted the belt on her dressing gown as she looked into the steaming depths of the copper bath placed in front of the stone fireplace. This was what she needed. It would wash away the dirt of the day and hopefully, the memory of the way Cillian had constantly tried to rile her about Bran.

He suspects there’s something between us.

Ilyssa loosened the belt on her dressing gown and walked around the bathtub, trailing her fingers through the depths.

“This cannae go on,” she whispered to herself, though she was uncertain if she was talking about the impending marriage, or the way she and Bran were dancing around each other.

When she returned to the castle, streaking far ahead of Cillian, she had raced into the building to avoid speaking to him. She had searched for Bran, going to the library and the garden, but had been unable to find him. When Cillian had eventually reached the castle, she had gone up to her bedchamber to hide, not wanting to risk the chance of seeing him.

I pray me braither is right. I pray he can get me out of this.

Sighing loudly, she turned to face the bath and slipped the dressing gown down her shoulders, preparing to get into it. She had just pulled the cloth down to her elbows when she heard the door behind her click.

In surprise, she looked over her shoulder, expecting Catreena to be the one marching into her chamber, yet she was very wrong.

A man’s heavy tread followed into the room, his boots clomping across the floorboards. He practically slammed the door shut behind him, his body tense and furious, then he zeroed in on Ilyssa.

For an interminable second, one that was elongated and never seemed to end, Ilyssa stared back at Bran, her bare back exposed to him.

Then his eyes shot down to where he could undoubtedly see the curve of her rear peeking above the dressing gown and the sides of her breasts. When he didn’t look away, the tense silence suddenly broke.

He has never looked at me quite in that way before.

He continued to look, showing no sign of averting his gaze.

“Bran!” Ilyssa shouted and pulled the dressing gown sharply over her shoulders again, just as Bran turned away, running his hands through his hair. “What are ye doing in here?” she cried.