Claire Delacroix (6 page)

Before Luc could ask her the same question, the lady took a deep breath and glared at him anew. “Have you forgotten
that you were summoned, after all, to compete for my hand?”

“That may be so,” Luc acknowledged easily. “But I
came
for an entirely different reason.”

The lady blinked and was momentarily at a loss. “You did?”

“Aye. I came to discuss another matter with my father.”

The lady appeared uncertain how to proceed in the face of this information. She looked at Luc, at her hands, at the ground. From what he had already witnessed, Luc suspected ’twould not take her long to chart a new course. He watched and waited, expectant.

He was not to be disappointed.

“You mean that you do not want to win Tullymullagh?” Brianna asked in evident amazement, the very idea clearly unthinkable to her. “Or my hand in marriage?”

Luc shook his head decisively. “Nay.”

She caught her breath at his blunt denial and her eyes widened in astonishment. Luc could see now that Brianna’s eyes were a thousand shades of green, their depths lit with remarkable golden flecks. They tipped upward at the outer corners, like those of a cat or an Eastern seductress, her lashes were of deepest gold and thick beyond all.

Luc saw in their depths a glimmer of intelligence and his resistance to the lady’s allure slipped dangerously. His heartbeat began to echo in his ears and Luc was very aware that he stood in a twilit orchard with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Brianna licked the ruddy fullness of her lips, frowned, then scanned the decrepit orchard in disbelief. When she spoke, her low tone was incredulous. “You truly prefer the company of ancient fruit trees to the pursuit of a quest that might make you a powerful lord?”

“Oh, without a doubt.” Luc watched the lady consider
his assertion, clearly never having heard the like, and enjoyed that he was challenging her belief that all would dance to her will.

He realized he liked surprising her. Luc had the distinct sense that Brianna was seldom surprised.

Much less denied.

Her ruby lips parted and Luc wondered, at a most inopportune time, what ’twould be like to kiss this determined Irish princess. Her lips would be softer than soft, he guessed, and his hands would fit right around her waist. She would kiss sweetly in her innocence, though Luc guessed that experience would make her passion burn with a bright flame.

He felt a sudden, quite unreasonable, desire to be the one responsible for that awakening. Indeed, Brianna stood so close to him in this very moment that Luc had but to bend his head to brush his lips across hers. ’Twould be so easy.

The thought was more than tempting.

But that would be wrong! He had no interest in marriage and noblewomen like Brianna could not afford to dally. Nay, ’twould be her chastity that won her a fine match, no more and no less.

All the same, he could not shake his desire for her kiss.

Clearly Luc was even less well suited to the life of a knight than he had previously believed.

Brianna, oblivious to his inner turmoil, wrinkled her nose in a most enchanting way. “But,
why
?” she asked in genuine confusion. “All men desire to be lords or barons or kings or otherwise greater than they were born. Surely you desire more than you have to your own hand?”

Luc arched a brow at her assumptions. “Which would be what?”

“Well, some holding smaller than Tullymullagh.” Her conviction and her words faltered. “I would assume. I mean,
your clothing is like that of a farmer.…” A soft flush suffused the lady’s cheeks and her gaze dropped away from Luc’s in her embarrassment.

Her blush deepened when he said naught. “Unless, of course, I misconstrue the import of your simple garb.”

When she flushed with such maidenly sweetness, ’twas difficult to recall that she was the one who had summoned the brothers here on a mere caprice. Indeed, she looked so innocent and vulnerable that Luc had a errant urge to protect her from harm.

As might better befit the chivalrous knight Luc had long ago decided he would no longer be.

Luc took a deep breath. He would not protect this princess or pursue her quest, but still, he could not be churlish with her for thinking her home fine.

“You guess aright. I administer a Welsh barony in lieu of my sire,” Luc acknowledged quietly. “ ’Tis a modest manor, but suits my needs well enough.”

Brianna slanted a bright glance through her lashes, her cheeks bright pink. “I would apologize if I gave offense. I meant no insult.”

Luc shrugged, unable to keep himself from smiling in reassurance. The lady smiled ever so gently back at him and his heart began to pound once more. “Most nobles think naught of what makes their board groan with abundance.” Luc tried to sound unconcerned by her broadening smile. “But ’tis the farmers and laborers, after all, who break their very backs that they might pay the lord’s tax.”

Those words dismissed her smile before ’twas full.

“Oh!” Brianna drew herself up proudly, the fire back in her gaze. She shook a finger beneath Luc’s nose. “My sire does not overtax his villeins!”

“Nay?” Luc rolled his eyes at her naive trust, then nodded toward the stone keep looming behind them. “And what
built Tullymullagh? Such a keep is of great cost to construct, and coin comes from but one source on a holding.” He propped his hands upon his hips and stared down at the defiant princess. “Unless your sire wished thrice upon a clover leaf and had the fairies conjure Tullymullagh in the night?”

Her eyes flashed emerald lightning; when she spoke, her voice was low. “My sire crusaded to the Holy Land,” she declared, fairly biting out the words. “ ’Twas upon his return that he began to build Tullymullagh’s keep, the labor funded by what he had earned there.”

There was misplaced righteousness! Luc knew well enough how crusaders “won” their spoils!

“Earned?” he echoed skeptically. “There is naught
earned
by crusaders to the East.”

The lady’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“That riches brought from Outremer are oft stolen from infidels and heathens, naught more noble than that.”

Brianna gasped. “My sire is a knight of honor and repute! How dare you slight his intent, when you know naught of him or of crusade?”

“Naught?” Luc barely bit back an explanation of his own past before ’twas uttered. He glared at Brianna, as annoyed with himself for responding to her as with her ability to conjure old memories.

Crusade had naught to do with his life any longer. Luc gritted his teeth and turned back to the tree, removing a spur with more force than was necessary.

“Then you do know something of crusade,” Brianna observed.

Luc flicked a quelling glance her way. “Naught worth discussing.”

The lady was not quelled, but then he had hardly expected as much.

“You are a knight,” she charged softly.

Luc pivoted to face her and folded his arms across his chest in turn. He met the lady’s gaze steadily and determinedly changed the course of their conversation. “It seems to me that matters are most simple. You expect me to depart on your quest. I do not intend to do so. The hour is late, my lady, and I would suggest that you retire, despite your evident urge to be rid of me.”

To Luc’s surprise, his last words were greeted by a flash of fear in the lady’s remarkable eyes. Clearly she wanted him gone—why was she afraid that he understood the truth?

Luc had a sudden sense that something was in the wind.

He took a step closer and the lady, remarkably, backed away, her retreat fueling his suspicions. “Why are you so anxious to see me gone?” he asked. Brianna fairly danced backward, but Luc was in hot pursuit.

“I am not!” she protested, her guilt more than clear.

“What difference does it make whether I linger in the orchard or not, my lady?” Luc asked smoothly. “Have you some scheme concocted?”

Brianna blanched tellingly. What was she planning? “Nay! Not I!” she lied hurriedly. In her haste to escape his questions, the lady stepped on her skirts and stumbled.

Luc lunged forward and caught at her elbow. Brianna gasped as he scooped her off her feet in the nick of time. She clutched his shoulders for a tantalizing moment before she was safely upright again.

Luc could feel her heart hammering against his chest with a fear disproportionate with the potential of falling. Her small hands landed on his shoulders, her toes stood on his sturdy boots, her elbows rested in Luc’s grip. Luc looked into the lady’s luminous eyes, totally unprepared for the jolt of desire that rolled through him.

She was so tiny, so exquisitely feminine.

And she was so very clever. Luc had never been able to resist a puzzle, and Brianna of Tullymullagh was proving to be more of one than he had expected.

He wanted very much to know what plan was hatching in her mind. “I must go,” she insisted and tried to step away.

Luc adjusted his grip ever so slightly, summoning a smile to reassure her. He had no intention of hurting her, but neither would he release her when he was so close to an answer.

“Tell me first what you are scheming,” he suggested.

Her eyes widened. “Naught!” Brianna declared breathlessly.

Luc arched a brow. “That seems unlikely. Why else would you fear my remaining here?”

“I simply want you to go on my quest.” Her words tripped over each other in their haste to be heard.

Luc was not persuaded. “Why?”

Brianna swallowed, she looked away, then she looked up at Luc. “I like you best,” she said, then her cheeks flamed.

’Twas so obviously a lie—both from her manner and the simple truth of Burke’s greater desirability—that Luc laughed aloud.

“Indeed?” he said finally. “I believe, my lady, that you are merely trying to make me do your will.”

Brianna’s flush deepened. “Nay, not I.” She opened her eyes wide and stared up at Luc, as though willing him to believe her. “ ’Tis true.” She patted his shoulder. “Truly.”

Luc did not believe Brianna for a heartbeat, but that did not stop a wicked idea from dancing into his mind.

He arched a brow, enjoying the prospect of surprising this woman yet again. “Aye? Then, if you favor me so very much, why not grant me a token of your esteem?”

Brianna blinked. “My sleeve?” she asked hopefully, as though she knew ’twould not suffice.

Luc shook his head firmly. “Your kiss.”

Brianna’s mouth opened in a perfect circle of surprise. She paled, then another flush stained her cheeks. She dropped her gaze with maidenly modesty but not before Luc saw the sparkle of curiosity in her eyes.

That alone shattered his resistance.

Luc inclined his head and brushed his lips once across hers, not wanting to frighten her. Even that minute taste of Brianna’s lips proved to be sweeter than honey and left him hungry for more. Indeed, Luc wanted naught else but to gather Brianna closer and kiss her so deeply that she could think of naught else.

He paused, though, and waited for her consent.

Her gaze flicked to meet his once more, that sparkle dancing in the emerald depths. “One kiss,” she whispered breathlessly.

Luc did not grant the lady a chance to change her mind.

This, he resolved, would be a kiss worth remembering.

Luc lifted Brianna against his chest, his fingers spreading across the back of her tiny waist. To his delight, his hands did fit perfectly around her slender waist. He slanted his mouth across hers, claiming her lips with tender possessiveness. Brianna tasted of wine and honey, she smelled of roses, she felt more soft than anything Luc had ever felt before.

’Twas but a moment before she tentatively kissed him back.

Luc needed no further encouragement. He deepened his kiss, caressing her lips with his tongue until she opened her mouth to him.

When he took advantage of her move, Brianna gasped, then sighed. Luc swallowed both sounds, his heart thundering when her tiny fingertips landed against his jaw. Her touch was as light as a feather, the press of her curves
against him a temptation that was nigh impossible to put aside.

But her kiss revealed her innocence and ’twas not Luc’s place to take more than his due.

Even if he savored what she granted to him.

Finally, Luc set Brianna on her feet and reluctantly lifted his lips from hers. The lady appeared delightfully flustered, yet she would not meet Luc’s gaze.

Remarkably, she seemed to have naught to say for herself. Her breathing was hastened, those fingertips had fallen to Luc’s shoulder. He captured her hand securely within his own.

Brianna’s flesh was so creamy, her hand so fragile within the roughened breadth of Luc’s own palm. That protectiveness returned with a vengeance at the sight of her uncertainty, yet Luc could not resist his urge to plant a single chaste kiss in her palm.

Even her palm was breathtakingly soft.

Brianna caught her breath at his gesture, her other hand rose to her lips. Luc looked into Brianna’s eyes as he folded her fingers over his salute and pressed his lips to her knuckles. She stared at him, clearly well aware that she trod new ground and entirely uncertain how to proceed.

Luc grinned slowly, liking very much that he had surprised her.

Again.

This could well prove habit-forming.

“Off to your chambers, my lady,” he murmured. “ ’Tis late to be wandering about in the orchard with fallen knights, after all.” Brianna glanced up as though surprised by his words and Luc winked, unable to resist teasing her. “Even the one who is your
favorite
.”

Brianna turned absolutely crimson. She inhaled sharply and snatched back her hand, spinning away to flee across the
orchard. She did not glance back until she had reached the safety of the orchard’s perimeter.

Then she shook a finger at him. “I shall not forget this, Luc Fitzgavin!” she huffed. “You have gone too far in this.”

“On the contrary, my lady,” Luc grinned. “I only did your bidding. Is that not what you prefer?”

“Oh! Oh, you are insolent beyond all!” Brianna clearly struggled to find a better argument and failed. She opened her mouth and shut it again, glared at Luc, then pivoted and stalked across the bailey. The princess snatched up her veil en route and continued to the doorway to the hall without stopping.