Loki (3 page)

“Nay, Papa. I do not need any. I’m tired. I’m going to sleep.”

Bella ignored her rumbling stomach and moved over to her small pallet behind the partition in the corner.

“Bella, you need to wash the dishes from the day,” her sire shouted.

“Morna could not wash them?” Exasperated and exhausted, she flounced down on her pallet.

“Nay, all that water would ruin the tender skin on her hands.”

Bella glanced at the red skin on her own hands, calloused from carrying heavy pots in and out of the great hall.

“I’ll take care of it in the morn, Papa. I’m too tired.” She leaned back onto her pallet and covered herself with the threadbare plaid, dreaming of a lad with one blue eye and one green eye.

Chapter Two

Once inside the Grant castle gates, Loki thanked Logan and Gwyneth, dropped his horse off at the stables, and headed straight for the great hall. Jake and Jamie, his twin cousins who were younger than him by five summers, ran to his side from an unknown location.

“Loki, you’re back. What tales have you for us today?” Jake asked.

Jamie added, “Must be at least one good one. Look at the scars and wounds he’s wearing this time. Tell us how you beat the devil out of the whoresons who attacked you.” His eyes widened in anticipation.

Not bothering to lift his head, Loki continued on his way. “I have naught to tell you, lads. I’m off to see my mother. I’m sure my sire is in the lists.”

“Aye, ‘tis where we’re going, to train. We’ll let him know you’ve arrived. But at least tell us where the black eye came from? Please? We’ll tell the others!”

He quickened his pace, but shouted back over his shoulder at them. “Uncle Logan and Aunt Gwyneth are on their way. They’ll be happy to tell all. I need sleep.”

He stepped inside the door to a large chorus of greetings. He waved to all the friends and family gathered in the great hall, then turned to the right to head toward the corner passageway that led to the tower rooms, the place where his parents lived. His uncle had continued to expand the keep, eventually adding another building of chambers due to the swelling size of their immediate clan, but his parents had remained in the towers—the most comforting place in the world as far as Loki was concerned, mostly because of his mother. He continued down the passageway, wondering how his parents had been. He grimaced and reminded himself that he was thinking of his
adopted
parents.

He’d been so fortunate to be adopted by Brodie and Celestina Grant, no one knew it better than he did. So why had he risked hurting them by seeking out his true parents? Even though they had never said so, he could tell how much it wounded his mother by the look that came into her eyes every time he mentioned searching for his real parents. He could not tolerate that look. In fact, every time he saw it, he turned away, feeling so guilty he wanted to run in the opposite direction. If not for Arabella’s foolish sire, he would never have tried to seek out his true sire. He believed he was a lad of value, but there was no way of proving his lineage.

Celestina’s English father had kept her locked up in their house as a young lass. Loki had first set eyes on her as she sobbed from the balcony of her home, basically her prison. Being wee at the time, he could sneak anywhere without being seen. So he had followed Celestina, his ‘missy angel,’ as he had referred to her, wherever life took her. It was this sneakiness that had earned him the admiration of Brodie Grant, the youngest brother to Laird Alexander Grant, for it had helped Brodie to find her after she was kidnapped, right before the Battle of Largs.

After the conflict ended, Brodie and Celestina were reunited in the Highlands, and it was then they had adopted Loki and brought him into their home. He still counted the day he became Loki Grant as the happiest—and luckiest—day in his life.

He opened the doorway to the tower chambers and stepped inside.

A chorus of “Loki!” greeted him. His mother sat with her needlework in her lap, but she stood as soon as she laid eyes on him, dropping her sewing onto a nearby stool. Her expression had gone from sadness to excitement in an instant. His two sisters, Catriona and Alison, twelve and five summers, ran up and hugged him. His brother, Braden, would be in the lists with his father.

His mother waited for him to come to her, as she always did—a relic of her proper English manners. With a still trim figure and long yellow hair threaded with only a few strands of silver, Celestina Grant was still a beauty. Some of his aunts had widened at the hips after carrying bairns, but not his mother. She was still the most beautiful woman in the Highlands.

But that wasn’t really what he saw. To him, she was simply the woman with the biggest heart he had ever known. She held her arms wide and he stepped into her embrace, towering over the wee woman.

“Loki, how I have missed you.” She patted his shoulders. “I am so glad to see you.” She stepped back and cupped his cheek. “How do you fare? Did you find your true parents?”

And that look of excitement in her gaze changed to one of worry as fast as could be. Just the mention of the identity of his true parents was enough to send heartache through his adopted mother. Loki chastised himself, as he’d already done countless times already. He could never love his birth mother as he loved Celestina. Someday, he promised himself, he would tell this woman how much her love had meant to him.

It had all been for Bella—to prove to her father that he was not some worthless orphan. True, his uncle could force the marriage, but it would feel wrong to allow his powerful adoptive relatives to fight his battles for him. Since he’d been so long without parents, he wanted Bella’s relationship with her sire to be strong. He had no desire to cause any discord between the two. Someday, he hoped he and Bella would have their own bairns, and bairns needed their grandparents, just as he had needed parents of his own.

But he had searched and searched, turning up naught. Now it was time to give up.

Or was it?

“Nay, Mama, I have not found them. I believe I’ll stop searching. There is no way to determine who they are or were.”

Celestina took his hand and ushered him over to the table. “Catriona, find your brother some mead. He must be thirsty.”

Five-year-old Alison stood next to him and said, “Loki, my friend said you are not really a Grant. ‘Tis not true, is it? I told her that you are truly my brother, and she said you are not and you are a phony.” She turned to her mother. “Mama, she’s wrong and I’m right, do you not agree?”

“Shush, child. You are not to bother your brother with such foolishness when he has only just arrived home. Of course, he is a Grant. Now apologize to him.”

Alison hung her head, clasped her hands behind her back, and whispered, “My apologies, Loki.”

Loki smiled at her and ran his fingers through the golden strands that were just like her mother’s. “Do not worry, wee one. They cannot hurt my feelings.”

How he wished that statement were true. Aye, it was this incessant need for others’ approval that niggled at him. He wished to prove he was of value, that he deserved to be a Grant, that he was intelligent, braw, and strong of his own right.

He wanted to prove that he deserved his adopted name—and that he deserved Arabella.

But how was he to do that if not by finding his birth parents?

“Catriona, if you please, after you have gotten the mead, I would like for you and Alison to go to the kitchens and find something for your brother to eat.”

As soon as the girls left the chamber, his mother drew his attention again. “Loki, will you speak to Arabella while you’re home? Will you be staying for a while?” His mother settled on a stool across the table from him, her back straight and her hands on her lap as she’d been taught. The beautiful woman in front of him had been brought up by a brute. How Loki wished he had gotten his hands on her father before Brodie Grant had killed him. His mother was as prim and proper as anyone Loki had ever met. Loki would do anything to keep from disappointing her.

“Mama, I have just arrived. I do not think Bella’s sire has changed his mind.”

“Oh, but Loki, I think Bella missed you terribly. I do believe you make a lovely pair. But you do not?”

“Her sire believes I am not good enough for his daughter. There is no point in pursuing the lass.”

“Loki, can you truly dismiss your feelings so easily? I know in my heart how you feel about her, and I know she reciprocates your feelings. Why not marry her and start a family? You’ll make such a wonderful father. Uncle Alex would speak to her father on your behalf. As laird of the clan, Uncle Alex can force the marriage if you truly wish it.”

Loki did not know how to answer her. “I’ve actually decided to work with Uncle Logan for the Scottish Crown. I’ve come home to tell you my decision, then we’ll be leaving again. I think I’ll head out to the lists to speak to Da. Do you need anything?”

Celestina’s face fell. “Nay, go as you wish.” She stood up to embrace her son again.

The door opened and Arabella entered carrying a trencher of stew for Loki. “Lady Madeline instructed me to bring this for you, Loki.”

Celestina hurried over to the door. “I’ll just go check on the lassies.”

Once she left, silence echoed throughout the tower chamber. He did not doubt that his mother had intended to leave him alone with Bella.

“Is there aught else I could get ye?” Arabella lifted her chin to stare off over Loki’s head, her pinched lips telling him exactly what she thought of him at the moment.

Loki sighed as he stared at her luscious pink lips and soft curves. True, Bella was a wee thing, but it did not stop her from having beautiful rounded hips and an enticing pair of breasts that was presently level with his eyes. Hellfire, what he loved most about her was her feistiness. Never shy, she let everyone know her feelings, including her feelings about him.

Aye, he’d promised himself that he would give up on her—on them—after his failure, but that was akin to asking a Highlander not to carry his sword. He rubbed his hands on her saucy hips, then grabbed her by the waist and plopped her onto his lap. Her scent set him afire in a way that no other lass could do. “Och, my Belle,” he whispered close to her ear. “It has been a long time. Both the scent and sight of you reminds me of how I’ve missed you.”

She feigned disinterest and shoved against his chest. “Leave off, you brute. You left me.”

Loki could tell her efforts were minimal, so he cupped her cheeks to force her gaze to meet his. “Do you truly wish me to leave off, or would you rather I kiss you senseless, lass?”

Bella threw her head back and giggled, then wrapped her arms around him. “Loki, why must you work for the crown? Stay here on Grant land. I missed you so.”

Loki’s mouth descended on hers and she leaned close to him, moaning that sweet sound he so loved to hear. He angled his lips over hers, parting her mouth to tease her with his tongue. When she responded, he groaned and tugged her closer, deepening the kiss and threading his hands through her hair. When he ended the kiss, he leaned his head against her forehead and whispered, “You’re mine, my Bella. We belong together.”

Bella fussed with her skirts and mumbled, “‘Tis no use, Loki. My sire would never allow us to marry. No matter how I reason with him, he stays the same, saying my mother insisted I marry someone born into the Grant clan. He wants me to help Morna get ready for her marriage. You know how I feel, do you not?”

“Aye, I know you love me, lass, as I love you.” She’d snagged his attention with that comment. “What? And exactly what does he expect you to do to help Morna?”

“I do not know, nor do I care.” She rubbed her hands up and down his arm, squeezing his biceps.

Loki tugged on her hair, lifting the fine strands that had escaped her plait. “Is your hair golden or red? Sometimes I cannot tell. It seems to depend on the light.”

She shoved at his hands, forcing him to release her hair and bring his gaze back to hers. “Why can we not marry as we wish? Is that not what you wish?”

The failure of his recent venture found its way back to the forefront of his mind. “Aye,” Loki sighed. “Say no more. I know I will never be good enough for your father. I’ll leave you be. My thanks for the meal.”

Sounds of wee feet in the passageway brought Loki back to his senses enough to set her away from him. The door flew open and Catriona and Alison ran in and stopped in front of Loki, wee Alison staring at him wide-eyed. “Look, Aunt Madeline sent two sweet tarts for you. May we share one with you?”

Loki smiled at them, then glanced over his shoulder as Bella walked out the door, unable to tear his gaze from the enticement of her bottom. “You can eat them all, lassies. I’ll eat the stew. My taste for something sweet is leaving me.”

Bella turned to grin at him, and Loki winked at her.

He ate the food Bella had brought, trying to figure out a way to convince her father that he was a fit husband for his daughter. At the moment, he could think of naught that he hadn’t already tried.

Just for a moment, he imagined what it would be like to tell Bella’s father that he, Loki Grant, truly did have noble blood in him. Being of noble birth would change everything. If he could just find his true sire, he’d know. What had his father been like? Was his mother as sweet as Celestina? How had he ended up living alone behind an inn in the royal burgh of Ayr? He’d tried so hard, but now he would never have the answer to his questions. Perhaps it was better to just leave it all alone.

He’d also understood he could discover the complete opposite to be the truth. Was his father a thief or a murderer who had been condemned or sent away? He’d never know, and perhaps it would prove a blessing.

Nay, coming home had been the right thing to do. Unfortunately, Bella could soon leave Grant land to assist her sister. This news told him he was doing the right thing. He’d never have a chance with her, so his decision to leave with his aunt and uncle was the right decision. Everything here would merely remind him of his love and his loss.