The Selkie’s Daughter (7 page)

“You dare the audacity to insult my wife.”  Rhys flung the gauntlet into the face of Breathan, hard.  “On St. David of Menevia’s feast day, I will meet you on a field of honor for trial by combat.”

“Who the bleeding hell is St. David of Menevia?”  Breathen snarled, flinging the glove away.

“He is the patron saint of Wales and the date is March one.”  Rhys took a step closer.  “Say your prayers, Scotsman, call for your sineater, for that will mark the day of your death.”

One of Breathan’s men took the opportunity of everyone’s focus being on Breathan to spur his horse to run.  Two of Baron Challon’s men drew the crossbows down and bolts slammed into the soldier’s body.

Breathan kicked out at Rhys, hitting him in the wounded shoulder, and then spurred his horse, wheeling him on the hind hooves.  Several men loosed their bolts, and one caught him in the back, but the horse plowed onward.

Annys ran to Rhys, who has down on one knee in pain.  He had been healing well, but a blow to the raw skin must be agony.  He sucked in air and tried to stand.

Guillaume leaned over in the saddle.  “Are you all right?  If so, I will go run the knave to ground.”

Rhys finally stood on his feet again.  “Leave him.  We do not know if he has more men out there waiting.  When I am healed, I shall deal with him.”

“Fair met.”  He glanced around at the small cottage.  “I did not come with a wagon.  We can send one back to fetch all her belongings…”

Annys did not wait to hear anymore.  She ran back to the cottage.  Instead, she found Meone and cradled the cat in her arms.  She held him so tightly; the cat wiggled trying to get free.  “Not now, Meone.  I
need
your warmth,” she whispered desperately.

Rhys’s tall body blocked the light coming in from the door.  “Annys.  What is wrong?  Why did your run?”

She rubbed her face against the soft hair of Meone.  “He asks what is wrong. 
Stupid stupid man
,” she told the cat.

“Annys, please, speak with me.  You were not injured, were you?”

Just my heart
, she wanted to say.  “You are a nodcock, Rhys de Valyer.”

He gave an uneasy laugh and came closer.  “Most likely.  But may I know why you think so?”

“You told them I was your wife!  Mayhap you are not learned in the ways of Scots, but to speak such words before others makes it truth.”

His eyebrows lifted slowly.  “Does it?  No, I had no idea that speaking such words before witnesses sees it made so.”

“Now you see why I brand you a nodcock.”  She buried her face against Meone’s neck to hide the tears she did not want him to see.

He stopped before her and slid a hand around her neck, using his thumb to lift her chin.  “Would that be such a bad fate?”

Bad?
  Oh, nay, it would be a miracle, to be Rhys’ wife, to love him would be all she wished for.

Again, the dream filled her head. 
The chance of fulfilling your heart’s desire
.  Oh, yes, she wanted Rhys, but hesitated to speak such.  She did not want him trapped into a marriage with her, just because he failed to ken her customs.

He lowered his head and brushed his lips softly across hers.  The cat squirmed, not happy with being trapped between two people.  Too scared, Annys could not let him down, using the cat as a shield against Rhys and how he made her feel.

“Ah, Annys, lass.  When we were in the byre, I had started to speak of my wish, that you would come to Glenrogha and be my bride.  My life has been so empty.  I only now understood how hollow, after spending these days with you.  Please do not make me go back to that life.”

His life had been empty?  His words echoed her own thoughts, how sad her life would be if she watched him ride away.

“’Tis Christmas.  You spake you had no present to give me.  Then grant me this and it would be the best Christmas gift I will ever receive.”

The fire danced as the breeze gusted through the open door.  Annys could almost hear the words spoken…
only if you are strong enough to reach out and shape the future with your hands
…

“Can Meone come?” she asked terrified of hoping, but even more frightened not to fight for what she wanted.

“Of course.  I would never separate you from your friend.  Agnes the cow can come, too.”

She choked on a sob, but then composed herself enough to answer.  “Very well, I gift you with Meone and me as your Christmas present.  Agnes, too.”

Rhys pulled her tighter and kissed her.  Not the gentle kisses they had shared over the past days, but a kiss full of promise and passion.

****

Annys sat on the grey charger, as Rhys handed her a bundle to hold.  Meone’s head popped out of the small, makeshift sack and howled.  She pulled the kitty close to her body and draped her mantle about him.

Rhys mounted behind her.  When she glanced up at him, he kissed her on the cheek.

As Rhys steered the stallion to join the formation of Baron Challon’s men, Annys glanced back to the tiny cottage that had been her sanctuary for the last decade.  Her time here was past, but the place had been good to her.  A stray ray of rare sunshine poked through the tall pines and fell on the cottage, and the air filled with sparkles of gold and silver.  Annys batted her eyes trying to focus, as she spotted a woman standing in the doorway.  She did not seem real, but made of golden shimmers of light.  She raised her hand and waved.

Annys watched as the brilliant shaft of light wavered, then vanished, leaving the grove in darkness.  The old cottage seemed to fade into the shadows and then she could see it no more.  Tears welled in her throat, but she leaned her head to Rhys’s chest, knowing he would drive the sadness away.

“Merry Christmas, Annys de Valyer, I love you,” he whispered, as she lifted her lips for his kiss.

About the Author—Deborah Macgillivray

Deborah Macgillivray has penned six award-winning novels and fifteen novellas and stories, which are translated worldwide in Russian, Japanese, German, French, Spanish and Portuguese, for Montlake Romance/Amazon Publishing, Kensington Books, Dorchester Publishing/Lovespell, and now Prairie Rose Publications.  She writes Scottish Medieval Romances, Dragons of Challon™, and Paranormal Contemporary Romances, Sisters of Colford Hall™, and has her on anthology of cat romances, Cat O’ Nine Tales.  Her novel, Riding the Thunder, picked up the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence for Best Long Contemporary Romance of 2008.  She currently lives in Kentucky with her husband and her beloved cats.

Blogger - http://deborahmacgillivray.blogspot.com/

Twitter - https://twitter.com/Scotladywriter

website - http://deborahmacgillivray.co.uk

A Cat in Jackboots

He is a hunter...despite being a scion of one of the most respected families of the ton, he enjoys solving the mysteries that life presents...at a price. And he is hot on the trail of a burglar robbing the titled members of London society.

She is saddled with a scatterbrained, matchmaking Grandmother and a retired battman for a butler...and a black cat named Romeo...and carries a world of secrets. One slip and it will cost her everything.

Neither is seeking romance...only sometimes love happens when you least expect it.... 
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              One Hot Knight             

Come join us for a medieval collection of wonderful romantic tales that take place during the hottest part of the year with ONE HOT KNIGHT! This unusual offering of summertime stories set between the medieval times of 1100-1300, of hot nights and even hotter knights, will keep you reading long past bedtime. You’ll be entranced with these five tales of knights and their ladies from some of today’s top medieval authors, as well as some rising stars in this up-and-coming genre. Lindsay Townsend, Deborah Macgillivray, Cynthia Breeding, Angela Raines, and Keena Kincaid offer you some of the best medieval-themed stories written, filled with romance and intrigue, laced with traditions and celebrations of this rich era. Prairie Rose Publications is proud to introduce yet another wonderful collection of exciting tales for your reading pleasure. ONE HOT KNIGHT is sure to bring you hours of enjoyment as you read on to find out how these knights and ladies will find their very own "happily-ever-after" endings at this very “hottest” time of year! 
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