WINDKEEPER (11 page)

"Then perhaps it is time the wine was ruled by the man and not the other way around," Conar quietly reminded him.

Galen glared at him. "And you have no one and nothing that rules you, do you, Conar?"

"Everyone has rules they must obey, Galen. Even I." He took a bite of fresh steamed asparagus.

"Speaking of being ruled: did you happen to see Master Kaileel Tohre when you arrived?" Galen asked, his humor restored as his brother’s face lost some of its natural ruddy coloring.

Conar laid down his eating utensils and pushed away his plate, his appetite suddenly gone. He cleaned his lips on the napkin. "I saw him."

"I’m so glad you did. He often asks of you while he’s visiting with me. We have such long chats about you." Galen’s eyes hardened with malicious glee as his brother glanced uneasily away. "We discuss your childhood. He told me…"

Conar looked up to see Galen staring open-mouthed at the dining hall entrance. Turning his head to see what had caused his brother such surprise, Conar found he could not swallow past the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat.

Galen got slowly to his feet, his heart hammering wildly. He felt as though he had been kicked in the gut by a mule. He swung his stare to his brother. "Is this the lady you brought with you?" he whispered in a hushed, awed voice.

Conar could do no more than nod. His eyes were locked on Liza as she stood in the half-darkened doorway, her gown and hair gleaming from the light in the main hall. He followed Galen to his feet, snatching up his linen napkin to wipe the wine stain from his lips. He tossed the square of linen back to the table where it landed in the gravy boat.

Never in his wildest, most fevered dreams, his most intimate moments of fantasy, could Conar have imagined that the young girl who had accompanied him to Norus Keep was the one who now graced the chamber with her delicate, breathtaking beauty. He was unaware of his own gaping mouth, his own thundering heart. All he was cognizant of was the woman at the other end of the room.

"Conar?" Galen whispered. His mouth was dry, his breath ragged. "Who is she?"

"Who?"

Galen reluctantly tore his gaze from the beauty before him and glared at his brother, viciously nudging him in the ribs. "Introduce me to her, you dolt!"

Conar turned to him, his face devoid of expression. "What?"

"Introduce her!" Galen hissed. He pushed past his twin and started around the table, his hand outstretched toward the girl. "My lady! Welcome to my home!"

It took Galen’s movement to break the spell under which Conar had fallen. He snapped his mouth shut with an audible click of his teeth. He hurried to outdistance Galen, rudely shoving his twin out of the way and reaching for Liza’s hand.

Liza smiled warmly at him, amusement coming through. Her dazzling smile was like a ray of sunshine in the dismal room, lighting the darkened corners and warming the dank chill pervading the stone walls. As her hand slipped into Conar’s, she laughed, for he immediately brought her fingers to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. "Good eve, Mam’selle."

Galen was transfixed by the woman’s beauty as he walked toward her. Long black hair hung loose around her creamy shoulders, cascaded down her slender back to her shapely hips. One thick tress hung over her bodice and was braided with pale peach ribbon. Soft peach-colored blossoms nestled at her right ear, bringing out the rose blush on her high cheekbones.

The gown she wore was pale green, cut low in the bodice to reveal the budding cleavage of her high breasts. Gathered in the center beneath those upturned mounds of perfection, the gown fell in gentle folds and ended in deep, lace-edged scallops as it swept the floor. Peeking out from under the gold lace scallops, were mint green satin slippers studded with golden sparkles.

There was a hint of peach at her eyelids and her mouth had been darkened to a deep coral. Around the upper part of her left arm, a thin gold ribbon of serpentine chain banded the tender flesh. Tiny coral studs sat in the flesh of her earlobes. The only other jewelry she wore was a black rune stone on a thin silver chain around her slender neck.

Struck mute by the elegance and ethereal grace before them, neither man could think. They had both lost their hearts and souls. They had given them to the Lady Liza.

"Am I late?" she asked and her voice was a whisper of soft, throaty laughter.

"Never," Galen said courteously, reaching his brother’s side, taking the hand Conar did not hold. "You could never be anything but perfection." He smiled the first genuine, true smile he had ever bestowed upon a female. He brought her wrist to his lips and planted a gentle kiss on the upturned flesh.

Liza felt a shock of revulsion run through her at his touch and she shivered. She tried to smile, but her flesh felt as though maggots were crawling over it. She had to stamp down the urge to wipe her wrist on her skirt when he released her hand.

"I am Galen."

Conar noticed the look on his twin’s face and could not mistake the sexual arousal. If he hadn’t known better, known in which direction his brother’s interests lay, he would have been angrier still. As it was, he had the strongest urge he had ever had to slap Galen’s face. An intense prick of jealousy raced through the Prince Regent. "My brother, Mam’selle," he explained to her in a clipped voice shot full of wintry chill. He stared at Galen’s inquisitive eyes. "Her name is Liza."

"Liza." Galen made the name sound like the soughing of a soft breeze in the forest. He murmured the name again, silently, to himself, and his face took on warmth rarely seen. "It suits you, Lady Liza. It is a very sensual name."

"We’re so glad you approve since it is the only name she has!" Conar snarled. Reaching for Liza’s arm, he pulled her away from Galen. "I know you’re hungry!" He pushed her to the table.

Stunned by Conar’s proprietary manner, Galen could only gape at his twin as Conar seated the lady beside him, well away from the place where Galen had been seated.

"Aren’t you finished with your meal, Conar?" Galen ground out from between tightly held teeth.

"No, I am not."

"I thought you were," Galen hissed, sitting down and laying his napkin in his lap with a snap.

"You thought wrong."

"You had pushed your plate away."

"I…am…not…finished…Galen!" the young Prince Regent growled.

"The table is…" Liza looked around her. "Lovely. The food smells delicious." She looked from one man to the other as they sat staring daggers at one another.

"To your beauty, Milady," Galen said, raising his goblet.

From his place beside his brother, Conar scowled, but he held his goblet aloft in salute. He was about to speak, but Galen began to compliment Liza; telling her extravagant stories of their homeland; uncomplimentary tales of Conar’s exploits, and unbelievable lies of his own.

As Galen droned on and on with his effusive speech, Conar brooded. It was obvious the man was attempting to woo the girl. He was flirting outrageously. Never had Galen bothered to court a woman, any woman, for Conar had known for quite some time that his brother’s interests did not include women as sexual partners. The fact that Galen leaned toward his own sex had never bothered Conar. Galen was Galen. Now, he found himself looking at his brother with loathing.

Whether it was to annoy him or was a budding recognition of his own true male nature, Conar didn’t care. Galen’s sudden interest in a female, and this particular female, was irritating the hell out of him. He clutched his wineglass and took a large swallow.

"I haven’t asked from where you come, Milady," Galen said. "I know you are not a native of our land; no woman in Serenia could rival such beauty as you possess, or give birth to it."

Conar groaned and rolled his eyes to the heavens. By the gods, but Galen had gone around the bend.

"I have not seen you at court, either. I would have remembered such loveliness."

"You wouldn’t have noticed her since your attention wanders elsewhere," Conar snarled beneath his breath.

Galen threw his brother a hard glower of warning, then turned his attention to Liza. "You are not one of the Ladies-in-Waiting, are you?"

Conar toyed with his wineglass, glaring sullenly at Galen, and only half-listening to Liza’s evasions as to her origins. He tuned out Galen’s spouted garbage. The goblet twirled in his tanned fingers, the wine swirling up the sides in red waves. As Liza’s laugh rang out, a tight frown marred his handsome face and the sensual lips turned into thin, straight lines of disapproval. He drained the goblet and refilled it.

Everything Galen and Liza were saying and doing was rubbing him the wrong way. He found himself fighting the urge to jump up and throttle his twin then and there. From some inner resource, he drew on his resolve to sit still; but for a reason totally beyond his comprehension, his irritation soared by the moment. He mentally shook himself and paid closer attention to the conversation to take his mind away from his seething rage.

"But from where do you come? You still haven’t told me."

"She’s from Oceania," Conar snapped and could have bitten his tongue. He turned to Liza to warn her to go along with his outrageous remark.

"Oceania?" Galen pounced on the answer. One golden brow shot up in unconscious imitation of the way Conar’s often did. "Isn’t that the homeland of the Princess Anya, dear brother?"

"You know full well it is, Galen," Conar hissed, emphasizing his brother’s name with a warning of his own.

Galen smiled at Conar. "You did know this fellow is betrothed, didn’t you, Milady?"

"She knows!"

"And do you know the Princess Anya Wynth?" Galen asked Liza, but his eyes were still on Conar.

"I can’t say she and I have ever been introduced, Milord. I have heard the lady is crippled and not so pretty to look upon, though. Or so Prince Conar tells me."

Conar nearly choked on the wine in his mouth. He glared at Liza’s innocent expression. Swallowing with effort, he frowned at her. "I didn’t say she was a cripple, Mam’selle. I said she had a limp."

Liza pretended to think. "Ah, so you did. But I do remember you saying she was as ugly as a toad."

"Liza!" Conar shouted. He would have taken her to task for revealing such a thing in Galen’s presence, but his twin’s uproarious laughter stilled his angry retort.

"By all that’s holy, Conar, but I find this entire conversation enlightening! I can see now why you aren’t keen on marrying the poor little bitchlet. I can’t see you, of all men, shackled to an ugly lass, although I must admit I find it deliciously funny considering the bawds I have known you to tumble in your day."

"I’ll not have you speaking like that in front of this lady!" Conar snarled, half-rising from his chair.

"I’m sure the Lady Liza understands you, Conar. Your reputation has proceeded you throughout the Seven Kingdoms and even into Diabolusia!" He winked at Liza. "Don’t you agree that it is dreadful Conar is being forced to marry this ogress?"

He came to his feet, roaring, "You aren’t the one marrying the stupid bitch, Galen, so I don’t think your opinion matters! It is late, Mam’selle. If you ride with me on the morrow, I suggest you bid this jackass a good eve!" He turned and stalked away, his footsteps ringing.

"Milord! Wait!" Liza called. She scraped her chair away from the table, hastily getting up and moving from Galen before he could assist her. She looked over her shoulder at him. "Please, don’t trouble yourself, Prince Galen. A pleasant good eve to you, Milord." Her slipper-clad feet made hardly any noise as she ran after Conar.

The Prince Regent had stopped as she called to him, but had not turned around from where he stood in the doorway. "If you are coming, I would prefer it be sometime before dawn, Mam’selle!"

"Such an ass, Liza-love," Galen called after them. "You would find me far better company."

Spinning on his heel, Conar took a step toward his brother, but Liza ran to him, blocking his path, her face pleading for peace between the two men. Her presence and actions did not stop the fury pouring from his lips.

"She has no need of another companion when she has me, brother! I suggest you look elsewhere for your own brand of entertainment." He gripped Liza’s hand and jerked her after him up the stairs.

Taking the steps to their sleeping chambers at a brisk clip, Conar could feel Liza stumbling behind him, but his rage was towering and he was hard-pressed not to slap the girl for being the direct cause of it. He had always prided himself in not taking Galen’s barbs to heart, ignoring the insinuations and cheap retorts Galen aimed his way. Letting the bastard see that he had gotten beneath his skin infuriated Conar even more. A vein throbbed in his temple and his lips were pressed so tightly together to keep from bellowing his anger, there was a white line around his mouth.

When they reached Liza’s door, he spun around and took both of her upper arms in his hard hands, gripping them with enough force to bruise her. He soundly shook her. "I did not appreciate your remarks concerning my wife-to-be, Mam’selle! The lady may not be to my liking, but I will not hear insults directed toward her. She will be the next Queen of this land! Do I make myself clear?" Fury flashed in his icy blue eyes.

"I repeated only what you said to me."

"Aye! You women are good at repeating things, aren’t you?"

"If you don’t want people to know how you feel about the woman, don’t tell them!" she protested, trying to free herself from his punishing grip, but he held her fast, dragging her up hard against his body.

His upper lip curled with distaste. "I thought you were different, but I can see I was wrong. You’re just like every other female I’ve ever known. You open your mouth and nothing but shit comes out!"

Liza’s eyes went wide. "I’m like no woman you have ever known and that’s what you’re so gods-be-damned angry about!" she shouted, incensed with the way he was manhandling her.

"All women are alike! They take and they take and they take until a man has nothing left to give and then they leave him for another man who can provide more! They lie and they cheat and they steal and they spread vicious gossip about like so much manure." He pushed her against the wall, holding her prisoner with his body and ground himself suggestively against her. "And they spread their legs for any man with the price or the title!"