Chapter One
Ériu (Ireland) 78 AD
This was where she felt most at peace. Deep in the uninhabited forest with nobody around to nag at her or tell her how to live or how a real lass should act, dress, or behave. The wind howled all around as it shook the thick branches above, causing the leaves to rustle soothingly while the cool summer breeze cocooned her in its embrace. Aye, this is where she preferred to be. Just her and her trusted bow.
As the only female hunter in their large tuath of Ráth Mór, and at only eight and ten summers of age, Aislin always felt more pressure to prove her worth. While her female cousins were married and constantly breeding or tending to their homes and husbands, Aislin felt ill just thinking of such an existence. She was not a lass who found comfort in working the loom or mending tunics. Nay. Her home was right here, amongst the trees and wild animals who she considered both companions and gifts from the gods. To be a hunter, one must respect the animals and aim true, eliminating their suffering and honoring their sacrifice. She prided herself on her skill with a bow, even if the rest of the tuath found her desire to hunt with the men irregular.
Another strong gust of wind pushed through the trees, causing her unruly red tresses to wrap around her face and block her vision. She had plaited her hair that morning, but with winds this wild, her silky strands never seemed to stay in place. Releasing her bow, she pushed her loose locks behind her ear and gripped her weapon just in time to hear a branch snap behind her. Instincts honed and bow pulled taught, Aislin silently shifted her stance to face the animal she would hopefully bring back to the village to share with her large family and many others, depending on the size of the beast.
Only, no beast was within sight. Furrowing her brow, she focused her gaze and strained her ears for any sound of movement. Leaves crunched and another twig snapped, pulling her gaze to the left. Arrow poised, she waited silently and held her breath, waiting for the approaching animal to come into her view.
Another step closer. She could hear its hesitant approach. One more step and she would have a clear shot. Pulling back further on the arrow, she prepared to let it go. When a head of full dark, shoulder-length hair came into view, she instantly lowered her weapon and sighed in annoyance.
“Och, Daniel! Have you nay survival instincts, sneaking up on me like that? I was one second away from shooting my arrow through your brains!” She grumbled and tucked her hair behind her ear again, rolling her eyes at her fellow hunter. More and more, Daniel was becoming a thorn in her side, ever trying to encroach on her peace to press his advantage.
“I only wanted to see how you fair today, Aislin.” His eyes trailed from her face, down her body slowly, fixating on the hide skin dress she preferred to wear on most days, rather than those over-long and cumbersome linen or wool dresses the other women wore. Aye, mayhap it was a slight bit more form fitting and a great deal shorter, but she could move freely in it and after being scolded for years for attempting to wear the trousers of a man, she decided this would have to do.
But when his gaze found her exposed legs and traveled back up once more, landing on her breasts, Aislin frowned and narrowed her gaze. “I would think you’ve seen enough. You find a way to seek me out and stare me down every day it seems.” Placing her hands on her hips, she tapped her foot in irritation against the forest floor, the leather ties of her boots laced up her calf tightening with every flex of her leg muscle. “And I tell you every day that I work alone. I do not need your help to hunt. I have done quite well on my own most of my life.”
“I know you have said as much,” he frowned and finally looked her in the eyes once more. “I only worry about you… alone in the forest.”
Aislin snorted and rolled her eyes again, deciding to walk away as she spoke over her shoulder. “I am not alone apparently, for you are always close by.”
Daniel did not respond, but as predicted, his footsteps fell in line with hers and he trailed in her wake as she headed back into the village. Today would not be a successful day of hunting. Nor had yesterday been, or the day before… or the day before. Daniel seemed to always show up and scare away any beasts she may have caught. Another huff of frustration left her lips and she gripped her bow tightly in her hands, straining to control her ire.
She was well known for her fiery temper… a temper she had inherited from her mother Ceara, who was one of the famed Sisters of Danu. The Sisters of Danu were well-known for their stubbornness and control over the elements. Where her Aunt Gwynneth controlled water and Aunt Una controlled earth, her mother was the sister who controlled fire. Aye, that fire ran through Aislin’s veins as well, only she was still learning how to control her inner sparks of defiance.
You must learn to control your temper, Aislin. Her Papa’s words rang in her ears over and over again. Aye, he was also a man well-known for his own stubbornness and a passion that burned deeply for her mama. If only they could understand that it was not anger that guided Aislin’s every thought, but the need for freedom: to break away from the expectations put on her simply because she was born a lass. She could shoot, hunt, and fight as well as any lad… if only the lads would leave her in peace long enough to do so.
As she and Daniel stepped out of the forest and back into the soft green pastures of their village, the strength of the summer sun finally showed itself, warming her skin and caressing her hair. Give her sun or snow, wind or rain… she was content in any climate as long as she was free to roam and exist amongst the bounty of the earth.
The sound of men shouting and blades clashing caught her gaze as she strode further into the village. She knew the warriors were training and having mock battles, as they did every day. It was a typical sight and one she was more than used to being around. Her father, uncles, brother, and cousins were the fiercest warriors in all of Ériu. The High King of Ériu was now her cousin by marriage. Her brother Eoin had taught her at a very young age how to wield a sword and protect herself as well as any man, but the bow had always been her weapon of preference.
“Aislin,” she heard Daniel’s voice plead behind her and she stopped in her tracks, spinning to face him. Control your temper. He means well. She had to always remind herself of this when in Daniel’s presence. “Will you please just hear me out?”
“Aye, Daniel. What would you like to say… that you have not already said many times before?” She licked her lips to hide her irritation as she raised a red brow in question.
Daniel sighed and stepped closer, placing both hands on her shoulders. “All I ask is that you give me a chance,” he shrugged. “I am from a good family, a hunter just as you are. I wish to know you better… to protect you.”
Wrong answer. Why did men feel she needed protecting? Had she ever been attacked? Harmed in any way by any man, weapon, or animal? Nay. She had done just fine all these years… never mind that the men in her family were just as overbearing and insistent on protecting her. The last thing she wanted in this world was another man looking after her every move and telling her what to do. Because, in the end, protection always led to control. She would never be controlled.
Shaking her head, Aislin took a deep breath and looked Daniel in the eye. He was a handsome lad. He could have many a woman with his bright hazel eyes and shoulder length dark brown hair. He was tall and lean, yet nothing like the warriors that were sparring several feet across from them as they spoke. Why was he so persistent about courting her? “Daniel. I am not like the other lassies. I do not need protecting. I do not want it. I have plenty enough men in my life doing that very thing.” When his face fell and his hands squeezed her shoulders with slightly more strength, she braced herself for his next argument.
“That’s what I love about you, Lin. You are so strong and beautiful. Your green eyes are like the rolling hills of—”
“There you are, Lin!” Her shoulders relaxed just as Daniel hastily removed his hands from her and took a step back. The familiar voice of her brother was just in time to stave off another round of overly-sweet words about her beauty. “I have been looking for you.” She knew he had not. He had been just over with the other warriors training and felt the need to rescue her from Daniel’s admiration… again. Inwardly, she balked at his believing she needed to be saved, but if she was being honest with herself, she was mighty glad Eoin had come along.
“Daniel, mate. Are you a hunter? Or a bard? Truly, I thought it was the former until you so adamantly started reciting sweet words to your fair lady love every day. Mayhap you should think of switching professions.”
Her shoulders stiffened again. She knew that voice, as well. Why her brother had become such good companions with the new warriors from Alba, she could not understand. Since the day a few new men arrived on a boat from across the sea with her brother Eoin, they had all become inseparable. Mayhap it would not be so bad if this lad, Alastar, would stop trying to win her over. What was wrong with all the lads in this tuath? There were many soft-spoken, traditional, beautiful lassies who wanted husbands and babes, who worked the loom with ease and wore respectable woolen garments… not animal hide that covered only half their thighs so they might frolic freely in the wild, wade through the river, or move with stealth without the swishing of heavy skirts.
Aye, Aislin knew she was not a typical lass, but she had always found herself more comfortable in the company of the lads, besting them with her archery skills or out-sprinting them in their games of prowess. Yet, over the last year or so, things had changed. Men suddenly saw her as a lass who needed protection. They saw her as a lass they sought to speak sweetly to or lure into their beds with those sweet words. Och, she found men interesting and often wondered what it would be like to go to bed with a man, but that was where her similarities with the other lassies ended. The only thing that came from bedding a man was a babe in the belly or a vow of marriage, and neither of those appealed to her in the least. If avoiding a man’s bed was all she had to do to keep her freedom, she could live with that.
Daniel stalked away in a fit of temper with his usually olive complexion flushing brightly at Alastar’s taunting words, and Aislin felt a mixture of relief and guilt. It wasn’t Daniel’s fault that she was so stubborn or wild. He had the misfortune of believing himself in love with the wrong woman and nothing more.
“You are welcome.” Alastar’s arrogant words floated to her on the wind as her hair began to wrap wildly about her face once more. Removing strands of hair from across her lips, she turned to look Alastar in the eye and felt her heart rate speed up when her gaze caught on his sweaty, glistening bare chest. His muscles rippled when he moved and a sprinkling of golden hair caught in the sunlight, causing her to struggle to catch her breath.
“Watch yourself, Al,” Eoin warned as he looked from his new friend to his foul-tempered sister. She knew she wore the tell-tale flush she always wore right before the loss of her manners, but this man brought it out of her faster than any other lad. From the moment he arrived from Alba a fortnight ago and introduced himself to her with such conviction, as if her life would never be complete without knowing his name, she had sought to ignore him entirely. Nothing could make her ignore a lad more than his arrogance and over-confidence.
“I did not need your help,” Aislin said through clenched teeth. “Why does every lad in this village believe I am in need of his aid?”
“Och, I must have read that situation entirely wrong, then, because it appeared to me that Daniel had been following you since you left the forest, despite your best efforts. It also appeared that you tried ignoring him, but that did not work. Then it appeared you gave in and allowed him to speak, which led to him encroaching on your space, placing his hands on you, and reciting bonny poetry while you fumbled for a way to be rid of him. Had I truly read all that wrong?”
This was precisely why she disliked Alastar. He was quick with his smiles and even quicker with his witty banter, but he also had a way of using that smile and banter to disarm her completely. His sandy blond hair blew with the wind and his deep blue eyes bore into hers, clearly awaiting her response to his obnoxiously accurate observation. His brow rose and then his secret weapons, twin dimples and straight white teeth, flashed at her and made her heart flutter in a most aggravating way. She knew better than to fall for his charms. Every other lass in the tuath had apparently already fallen for his smile, laughter, and unusually companionable personality. She knew men like Alastar. They were all about the chase. The other lassies may be oblivious to his true nature, but that was their problem, not hers.
“Well?”
He wasn’t going to let it go, as usual. “I was handling it just fine,” Aislin said, propping her hands on her hips.
“Eoin,” she turned to her brother, effectively removing Alastar’s perfect smile and dimples… and his bare chest… from her view. “Treasa asked me to tell you that the babe is asleep, so if you do come home soon, do not allow your sword to accidentally clatter to the floor again.” Her brother blushed guilty, clearly remembering his wife’s ire when he woke up their daughter, Neassa, from her midday slumber the other day. The babe had cried for an hour after being awoken abruptly by her papa and insisted on suckling on Treasa’s breast for another hour before she calmed down, making it impossible for Treasa to finish her chores. As much as Aislin enjoyed her niece and watching her older brother dote upon his beautiful wife, it was moments such as those that made her determined to avoid the web of marriage and children altogether.
“Aye, Eoin. Treasa also told me to tell you that she locked your bollocks in a jar and put them where you shall never find them.”
Aislin snorted loudly and covered her mouth to keep from laughing uncontrollably at Alastar’s barb toward her brother. His humor was less annoying when it was aimed at someone other than herself. Looking at her with his bright blue eyes, the color of blue belles in the spring, he winked and flashed his cursed dimples. She could have sworn his gaze flicked over her body quicker than a flash of lightning, but before she could decide for certain, his eyes were locked once more on hers.
Narrowing her eyes at him to try and hide her blush, she turned on her heels with a frustrated growl and stalked back to her home where she lived with her parents and Eoin’s wee family. Every moment she spent in the presence of Alastar Mac Murray was a moment of her life wasted.
Her stomach rumbled, reminding her of her failure for the fourth day in a row to successfully hunt some game with her bow. She really did need to find a way to turn Daniel away without breaking the lad's heart completely. Until then, she would head home and hope that Treasa or her mother had been more successful in supplying a meal.
***
Watching Aislin turn away from him with a frustrated growl, her curvy hips swaying in consternation with every step she took further away from him, Alastar groaned and bit down on his knuckles. The lass drove him wild. That short hide dress she wore clung to her backside like a second skin. Those leather boots wrapped tightly up her shapely calves made him wish to be one of those thin leather straps. And the quiver slung across her back filled with arrows, her bow cradled under her arm as her wavy red hair blew freely in the wind? The lass was primal and she brought the primal out of him.
“I’m right here, Alastar. Can you not watch my sister’s arse as she walks away? Jeoffrey was right, man. You truly have nay shame.”
Looking at his new mate Eoin, he could only shrug. He was a man who never shied away from what he wanted, and he had never wanted anyone in this entire world as fiercely as he wanted Aislin, Eoin’s sister or nay. With the very first glimpse he had of her upon his arrival at Ráth Mór, he knew she was it for him. It was the strangest and most invigorating experience to gaze upon a woman for the first time in his life and want more from her than one night in her bed. Nay. He wanted much more than that. He wanted her days, her nights, her dreams, and everything in between. Yet, he couldn’t even have a cursed moment, for the lass truly despised him.
“I would apologize, Eoin, but it would be a false apology and you know I am an honest man.”
“Aye, but can you try to at least pretend?” Eoin scoffed.
“I shall try when in your company,” he agreed with a tilt of his head as he continued to watch her walk away, eventually entering her family’s home.
“Do not believe him, Eoin. The man has no self-control.” Jeoffrey, Alastar’s best mate, came up from behind them and slapped him on the back. “I have known him since we were wee lads and I can tell you there has never been a lass Alastar wanted that he did not get. And he never pretends to not want her.”
Eoin groaned and rubbed his hands across his sweaty face. “I do not need to hear this.”
Àdhamh, the other warrior who came over from Alba with Alastar and Jeoffrey, shook his head and laughed. “Och, well the lass has made it clear she has nay interest in him. You can rest easy at night, Eoin. I do not think Alastar stands a chance with that one.”
“Aye?” Alastar said with a raised brow. “Wish to put it to the test? What will you give me if I can make Aislin mine?”
“You mean like a wager?” Àdhamh asked with raised brows.
“You shall not place wagers about my sister,” Eoin growled in warning.
Alastar laughed and pounded Eoin on the back. “I will pursue her either way, mate. And I will have her, make nay mistake. But if I can shut Àdhamh’s mouth in the process, and prove him wrong, I am happy to make that wager.”
“And what is it you believe I should give you, if you win over Aislin?” Àdhamh crossed his large arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes.
“That dagger,” Alastar pointed at the dagger strapped to Àdhamh’s leather belt around his waist. The handle was made of bone and intricately carved with circular designs around all sides.
“’Tis a bad idea, Al. If Aislin finds out, she will use that dagger to cut off your bollocks,” Jeoffrey laughed and shook his head. Eoin stayed silent but frowned as he watched two men make a wager over his sister.
“This old thing? I took it off a man I killed in a raid over in Alba. Means nothing to me,” Àdhamh shrugged.
Alastar squinted his eyes knowingly at Àdhamh. ‘Twas a fine dagger and even if the man spoke true, any man would wish to own it. “Then you do not mind losing it?”
With a snicker, Àdhamh shrugged. “I will not lose. Aislin will not have you. But if I make this wager, we must settle on specifics. When you say you will ‘have’ Aislin, what are you saying? Once? Twice? Forever?”
Eoin jumped between the two men and clenched his fists. “You go too far. This is dishonorable. Do not wager against my sister’s innocence or I will gut you both,” he growled through clenched teeth.
“Relax, Eoin. My intentions toward your sister are honorable. My wager is that I will marry the lass.”
Àdhamh and Jeoffrey laughed in unison.
“I will take Aislin to wife within a moon’s cycle, and then I will take your dagger.”
“And, if you lose?” Àdhamh asked with a crooked grin. “What then?”
“What are your terms?” Alastar said confidently. It did not matter, for he would not lose.
Àdhamh took a deep breath and tapped his chin dramatically as he thought, no doubt, of the worst fate possible for Alastar. Then he gave Alastar a devious grin. “If you lose, I get to select the next lass you must woo into your bed.”
Alastar grimaced. That sounded awful. Not only would Àdhamh most assuredly choose the least bonny lass as some sort of cruel jest, but the thought of bedding any other lass besides Aislin made his stomach go sour. He was so certain of his success, however, that he would agree to any terms without worry. “Deal.”
“I will take this wager and enjoy watching you fail,” Àdhamh said as he wiped a tear from his eye from laughing so hard and put out his forearm. When Alastar clasped it, they shook and Alastar gave Àdhamh a feral smile. Fool. He would have Aislin. He had already set his mind to that task and nothing would stop him from succeeding, not even her stubbornness or disdain for him. He could remedy that.
A flicker of doubt crossed Alastar’s mind. Wagering against Aislin was not very honorable, nor was agreeing to bed a lass of Àdhamh’s choosing if he failed. But he knew his heart was in the right place. All he wanted was Aislin and mayhap the wager was what he needed to push him in that direction.
“I want nay part in this. But if you lay a hand on my sister before she agrees to wed with you, you are a dead man, Mac Murray,” Eoin vowed.
Jeoffrey laughed and wiped his sweaty chest with his balled-up tunic in his hand. “As much as I enjoy discussing Alastar’s chances of failure with Aislin, I am off to my farm. Clarice awaits me with Wee Jeoff for our evening meal. Care to join us Alastar?” Alastar looked at his best mate and for the first time in his life, he felt a twinge of envy for the contentment Jeoffrey had found with his wife and wee son. Now Clarice was starting to show with their next child. A fortnight ago, Alastar had nothing more on his mind than starting his life over anew in Ériu, building his own quiet home within the village, spending his days training as a warrior for his new king, Tuathal Techtmar, and mayhap spending his nights with a new lass or two when the opportunity arose.
What was this sudden need deep within his gut to seek something more out of his life? Why did his existence as a man with no family and little responsibility, beyond his service as a warrior, suddenly feel so hollow? He could put a name to it if he tried, but that was a dangerous game and he wasn’t ready to admit that one lass could change him so abruptly… even if she was a spitfire with a mouth as dirty as his fellow warriors or hair as wild as the wind. He would set his mind to wooing her into marriage, but he would not focus on the emotions driving him to do so. It was time to settle down and wed, and Aislin was the one he wanted. He would think no deeper on it than that.
Mayhap he had been spending too many nights over at Jeoffrey’s home. He and Clarice oozed love out of every pore. It was in the way he rubbed her swelling belly, and the way Wee Jeoff practiced with his wooden sword and looked up at his papa with so much pride and respect. Nay, Alastar had the right of it. ‘Twas best to go back to his empty, quiet home to enjoy the peace and quiet he had always sought, and to not allow Jeoffrey’s happy family life to further muddle his mind. He had enough to think on.
“My thanks for inviting me over again, Jeoff, but nay. I have spent almost every night over at your farm since we arrived here. I think I will leave you to your family tonight and seek my entertainments elsewhere.” That was the right idea. Perhaps he should head down to the gathering hall for a meal, an ale, and a lass to distract his thoughts and remind him why he preferred short, uncomplicated relations with women. He may plan on marrying Aislin, and not only for the wager’s sake, but he was not married yet.
Jeoffrey shrugged and slipped his tunic over his head, smacked Alastar on the back, and walked toward his farm. Àdhamh waved and took off in the other direction, no doubt to go home to his sister, Maggie, as he chuckled to himself, clearly doubting Alastar’s ability to win this wager.
“I will be off then,” Alastar said to Eoin, feeling an unfamiliar twinge of loneliness. Why did it bother him so cursed much that everyone had someone to go home to? It had never bothered him before. “I will see you tomorrow for training, Eoin.” Looking up, Alastar saw the sun quickly fading away behind the mountains in the distance, coloring the world all around in purples, corals, and pinks. The breeze cooled his heated skin and he slipped his red tunic back over his head.
“Alastar… wait.” Turning to look at Eoin, he quirked a brow in question. “Come to my family home for the evening meal. Brennain and Flynn will also be there.”
Considering the offer, Alastar bit the inside of his cheek. He did enjoy the company of Eoin’s family, especially his cousins Brennain and Flynn. Just before opening his mouth to accept Eoin’s offer, an image of Aislin’s narrowed eyes and pursed lips entered his mind. The lass wanted nothing to do with him and though Alastar wished it wasn’t so, he refused to be like Daniel. Nay, he would not show up to the lassie’s home and force his presence on her. That was the last way to make her warm to him. He needed to distance himself from her distracting curves and think on how to proceed with his plan to make her his.
“My thanks for the offer, Eoin, but I will take my evening meal at the gathering hall tonight. I am certain your sister has nay wish to have her evening ruined by my presence. See you at dawn.”
Before Eoin could offer a rebuttal, Alastar tipped his head in dismissal and walked toward the increasing noise and laughter of the hall. He may be alone at home but at least at the hall he was surrounded by people who sought fun and laughter and enjoyed his company… unlike a certain red-haired lass with eyes greener than the rolling hills of— och, by the gods, if he was not a besotted fool. He was sounding like Daniel more and more by the moment. At least he knew better than to speak such thoughts or push his unwanted attentions.
A strong gust of wind pushed against his clothing as he strode over to the open entrance of the hall. Flickering lights streamed through the doorway and the laughter was contagious, already tugging at the corners of Alastar’s mouth. These were his people. Aye, he took his warrior training seriously and anybody who knew him knew, when needed, he would fight by their side without a word. Aside from battle and training, he didn’t take much else seriously. Everything worthy of worrying over left him the day his entire family had been slaughtered before his eyes those many years ago. That was why he had resisted any further attachments in his life. He knew all too well how quickly a loved one could be taken away from him and the lifetime of suffering that would remain.
Life was much too short to scowl or feel offended every day. If a man did not like him, that was all right, so long as the man kept his hands to himself. If a lassie did not prefer him, he knew better than to pine for her attentions or waste his time. He had proven that tonight by turning away Eoin’s offer. He could have spent his night in Aislin’s company, pushing his intentions upon her and trying to sway her into his bed…but nay, that was not his style.
He was not fond of a chase… at least he had not been until now. The excitement of pursuit tugged at his stomach, almost guiding him back to where he knew she was at that moment, but nay. For the first time in his life, he had his eye on a lass who was worth the pursuit and he had every intention of following through. Only, he would do it slowly and bide his time. The chase was only worth it if the lass was caught in the end.
“Alastar!” a loud laughing voice called to him from the back corner of the gathering hall and with a smile, he followed the call, pushing amicably through the crowd and offering pats on the back as he went. When he arrived, he saw Àdhamh with his sister Maggie and some of his fellow warriors drinking ale from large jugs. “I thought you were heading over to Jeoffrey’s home?” Àdhamh questioned as he sipped his ale. Alastar was thankful for the man’s discretion about the wager. If Maggie heard them speak on it, she would box both their ears.
He shook his head and grabbed a mug for himself. “Nay. Not tonight, mate. Jeoffrey and Clarice need some alone time, even if they’re too polite to say otherwise,” he winked and took a gulp of bitter ale. Àdhamh nodded in understanding and took another swig.
“Not with Aislin?” Àdhamh smirked and Alastar couldn’t help but scowl in warning.
“Not likely.” He took a seat on a wooden bench and placed his elbows on the table. “I have been properly dismissed by the lass enough times to know where I stand… for now,” he clarified.
“Do not take it personally, Alastar,” Maggie chimed in with her sweet voice and kind smile. “She is much the same with all the lads. She has told me time enough that she refuses to live the traditional life of a lass… marriage, babes. She prefers her freedom, her bow, and the wilderness.” Maggie smiled and sighed. “How I do envy her outlook.”
Mayhap wagering that he could wed the lass in one moon’s time had been hasty, Alastar admitted to himself. The lass openly distained him and marriage. To turn both around in such short time would require a finesse that even he may not own.
Àdhamh frowned at his sister. “You do not wish for marriage and children?”
She blushed, looking away. Alastar knew that look. She longed for those things very much and already had a man in mind. “Aye, I do wish for those things, brother. But when a lass feels invisible to most lads, tis easy to prefer she did not.” Alastar frowned at her words. She was a bonny lass with golden blonde hair, beautiful big blue eyes and the sweetest soul he knew. She felt more like a sister to him than anything and he knew she felt the same about him. But what man could she be thinking of? And why was that man too blind to notice her?
Taking a large gulp of ale and deciding to shut down the topic of Aislin, Alastar shrugged and took another large sip. “Do not fret lass; I take very little personally. In fact, it seems she and I both long for the same things, which, ironically, make us the worst match possible,” he laughed at that thought. Two people bent on living alone forever, without a family, relishing their freedom? He scoffed to himself. Mayhap he did not stand a chance. Only, because of her, he had been second-guessing his life plan for a fortnight now.
With her, he could see himself with a wife and children, but if he did not have the same effect on the lass as she did on him, then mayhap he was out of options. Perhaps he should simply give up and move on, losing the cursed wager. The more he pondered their ridiculous agreement, the more unattainable and illogical it seemed. Why chase the skirt— the very short animal hide skirt— of a lass who was unbendable in her will? And if it was her very wildness that drove him mad in the first place, would attempting to tame her even make sense?
Running a hand through his shoulder-length dark blond hair, he grunted at that sudden realization. Aislin was never going to happen for him, at least not for a long while and certainly not within a moon. He had been over confident in his ability to claim her. She was a lass of eight and ten and he a lad of four and twenty. If she was as much like him as he believed her to be, it may take her another six years to finally consider settling down. Six years was much too long for him to wait around on a lass… even one as bonny, enticing, and feisty as Aislin. With a sigh, he relinquished himself to the truth. It was never going to happen between them. Though he felt a distinct squeezing pain in his chest and disappointment in his gut, he also breathed deeply, feeling a slight bit of relief.
Sometimes letting go of an impossible dream was best. He would call off the wager in the morn. It had been brash, foolish, and disrespectful. Even he had never been so low as to wager on getting a woman into his bed. He admitted to himself that this was about so much more than just having her in bed, but now that he had gained distance from the situation and truly analyzed his options, he felt like an arse. But enough self-loathing for one night. He had plenty of ale to drink and other skirts to chase. Downing the entire contents of his mug, he belched and wiped his mouth.
“Ello, Al,” a seductive voice whispered against his ear. Looking up, he saw first the over-large and mostly exposed bosom of Janice, one of the serving lassies at the hall. Her big blue eyes narrowed suggestively at him and she leaned over, allowing her breasts to spill over into his openly admiring gaze. “Care for a refill?” she pointed to his nearly empty mug. “I can fill ye up and then… mayhap, ye can fill me up later.”
His eyes grew wide at her meaning and he couldn’t help the twinge of desire down below. He had not enjoyed a lass since stepping foot on Ériu’s soil again, not since the moment his gaze had found Aislin. He had made it his quest to bring Aislin to her knees, but in the process, he was the one down on his knees like a love-sick fool being led by a rope of leather… only, Aislin had not meant to lead him anywhere. It was his own ego that had persisted to hope. Now, he knew better.
Mayhap he could still gently pursue Aislin and hope, someday, he would wear her down. For now there was Janice, bonny as a lass could be with her dark brown mane floating about her face and those large breasts heaving before him. Her snug green dress revealed more than enough to let him know she had curves to hold onto while he drove into her later. It was only pleasure of the flesh she sought, which was all he could offer. Although this was not how he had planned to spend his evening, it suddenly seemed like the most enjoyable option.
Pulling Janice down onto his lap so she was straddling him, the lass squealed and tilted her head back. Ale spilled out of the large jug in her hand and all down the front of her breasts, causing them to glisten in the fire light. “My two favorite things are before my very eyes. Ale… and breasts.” Alastar chuckled and burrowed his face playfully in her ample cleavage, licking up the ale dripping down the slope of her bosom with his tongue. Janice laughed and squirmed in his lap, very purposely grinding herself against the bulge in his trousers and he could not help but groan against the soft mounds of her flesh. Aye, it would be a good night.