Chapter Eight
Time was slow going – even for one as patient as Evander. There had been rides through his land with Diana, introductions to his people, and freedom for her during the day while he was occupied with matters of his clan. She had been quiet at his side for most of it, always watching, always waiting for when she could be alone again.
He had the reports from his guards who kept a discreet distance – she ran through the woods with her wolves, she explored the land in solitude. And she always came back.
The first week had given him silent acquiescence.
The second week had given him skepticism.
The third week had produced small smiles and curious looks.
He’d not yet kissed her again, though he’d caught her watching his mouth when he spoke. Several times, she’d even pursed her lips or flicked her tongue between them. As if she wanted him to kiss her. And God knew how he’d wanted to oblige her. But not yet. He wanted her to crave it before he finally gave in.
Truth be told, he feared what one kiss might to do him, perhaps igniting his simmering passion to a point where stopping would be difficult.
He told her he would wait, and he would.
He crossed the courtyard where she waited for him at the stables with Zeus and Hera. She smiled when her eyes caught his. Was it his hopeful imagination, or had she blushed?
“Ye look bonny, wife.” And she did, with her golden curls and waves loose down her back like a gilded cape. The freedom he’d afforded her had settled a glow to her face and left her eyes alight with the most radiant blue.
Hera bumped at his legs until he knelt to receive his customary nuzzling over his face and head. He scratched the warm fur behind her ears and was rewarded with a deep groan of happiness from the large gray wolf. His attention went to Zeus and he pointed at the wolf. “I’m still watching ye, lad.”
The golden eyes watched back without blinking, without emotion.
Diana gave a soft laugh and smiled at Evander when he stood. “Hera has made a mess of your hair.” She lifted her hand and gently smoothed her palm over half of his head.
He shot the wolf a look and she bumped her head against his leg once more, nearly knocking him off balance. “She’s a bit aggressive with her love.”
“She’s quite affectionate with you.” Diana’s voice was quiet when she spoke, reverent.
When Evander turned his attention back to Diana, he found her staring at his mouth. Quickly, she flicked her attention back to his eyes. A stain of red washed over her cheeks, the blush unmistakable.
“Where are we going today?” Diana asked abruptly.
“It’s a surprise.” Evander led the way to their horses and swung onto his steed.
Diana followed suit. “Sounds enticing.”
He certainly hoped she would find it so. Together they sped over the land, rushing only for the sake of the wind whipping at their faces and the exhilaration of the race. By the time they arrived at the open field, Diana’s cheeks and nose were rosy from the cold. The wolves panted with their pink tongues lolling out of their open mouths.
Evander hopped first from his horse and held a hand to Diana. She didn’t need his assistance, of course, but she still placed her fingers to his palm before leaping gracefully to the ground. She looked out to the field and cupped a hand over her brow to ward off the shine of the waning sun overhead.
“What is it?” she asked.
“This is the field that will save our people.” Evander nodded out at the dirt before them and imagined it speckled with curling green shoots. “This is how you have helped to save our people.”
“Me?”
“The soil doesna take to oats and wheat as it once did.” Evander bent and took a lump of hard, frozen soil. “It’s been too cold. Our summers have been too short to do any good.” He balled the dirt in his fist, and it shattered into thousands of rich, black granules. “But potatoes, they are going to save us.”
“And these…potatoes – they can grow here?” Diana asked.
Evander stood and looked out over the sad mess of dark earth and errant weeds. “Aye, a few farmers grow them in Ireland and have found success there with similar circumstances. They grow under the ground where the earth is warmer. The potato is made of a white flesh that softens when boiled. It’s quite good and verra hearty. I know a man who will be selling me the seeds, and I have a farmer willing to take on the risk of growing them. We will have food.”
“How have I—” She looked away. “I afforded you the funds to purchase the seeds with my dowry,” she surmised.
“Aye, ye did. I couldna use the money from yer original dowry to buy seeds when my people were starving. They needed food.” He took her shoulders in his hands and met her beautiful blue eyes. “When yer da doubled the price to come get ye, I knew it would provide me with the opportunity to obtain the seeds. The food I buy this season will last this season. The potatoes I grow will last a lifetime. We’ll no’ ever go hungry again.”
Before she could give voice to the anger glinting in her eyes, he continued. “I’m telling ye this for two reasons – the first is that I want ye to understand I dinna want to steal ye from England. That’s no’ how I wanted to obtain a wife. I wanted to get to know ye, to let ye choose me, for ye to come willingly here. Diana, I dinna have a choice. I only hoped that once ye came here, ye’d fall in love with the people as I do, and ye’d love the land. And some day ye might love me.”
The ire in her gaze softened.
His hands trailed down her arms to find her hands, warm beneath the thick cloak and mantle. “I know ye see yerself as abducted, as forced into this. I know it dinna start well. But I see ye as the savior to our people. I see ye as my wife. And I dinna think there ever could be so beautiful a woman to me in the entire world as ye.”
He released her hands and gently cradled her face. Her cheeks were cold under his fingertips, and her eyes sparkled with something deep and far more open than anything he’d seen from her yet.
She glanced down at his mouth and his heartbeat kicked. No. Not yet.
“Was that the second thing?” she whispered.
He couldn’t help but smile. “Aye, but I have more. There will be a feast tonight, and I would be honored to have ye at my side.” His voice was deep with desire. God, he wanted her so bad. For as much as he denied her, he denied himself too.
She put her warm hands over his, holding them in place. “When will the seeds arrive?” She leaned closer into him and wet her lips with the tip of her tongue.
Evander’s pulse rushed in his ears, but he pulled his hands from her face, disallowing himself lest he want too badly what was not ready to be given. “As soon as I can pay for it, and one of my scouts informed me the coin yer father promised will arrive sometime tomorrow.”
The food had gone first, even though there’d been plenty of it. Far more than Diana had seen since her arrival at Castle Leod, as if it had all been stored away for such an occasion. Ale flowed freely and the Mackenzie clan was quickly becoming drunk.
Diana was on her third glass of wine, a private stock held by Evander.
Evander.
The man was a curious one. She put the cup to her lips in preparation to drink and paused, reveling in the cool press of metal to her skin. He spoke to Camden, who sat on his other side, his eyes crinkling with delight. She liked it when he smiled. It was genuine and good-natured. She made him smile thus, and every time she did, a warm flutter of victory tickled inside her stomach.
The marriage had been unwanted on her part, of course. But speaking with Evander in the field earlier made her realize it hadn’t worked out as he’d wanted either. He had anticipated his own wedding day with a woman who wanted to wed him, one he’d selected based on love and consideration.
Despite their circumstances, he had been unendingly patient with her and tender.
Evander turned from Camden and those deep green eyes, burdened with an emotion he never seemed to fully conceal, found hers. Her heart leapt at the immediate connection.
“Are ye enjoying yerself?” Evander asked.
Diana nodded, for she had been enjoying herself very much. The music, the tales spun by a wandering bard, the food, the wine. The company. “It’s all been wondrous, but I confess I’m growing tired. I hoped you might…” Her blood roared in her ears so loudly, she could barely think to say the words aloud. “I hoped you might be willing to see me to my room.”
Evander studied her a long moment before gracing her with a smile. “Anything for my lovely wife.”
He’d scraped the whiskers from his face for the feast and his chin appeared silky smooth, his lips full and vulnerably bare without the frame of dark hair surrounding it. He’d done the same when they’d wed. When he’d kissed her.
An eager warmth spread through her body with more efficiency than the wine. Evander rose first and held his hand for her to join him. Diana swallowed and stood. Agnes had done beautiful work to the gown, restoring the beadwork and adding extra fabric at the hem to replace what had been tattered over the years. She’d even altered the gown to accommodate Diana’s frame. No longer did the dress hang on her as it had before. Now it hugged her body.
Evander put his hand gently to her lower back. The whole world melted away except for the simple pressure of his hot touch against her. A slow, steady pounding of warmth hummed between her legs at the place she swore no man would ever touch again.
Because this was so very different. Evander was so very different.
Several cheers bellowed at their early departure, a couple of them in Gaelic, which she was only beginning to learn, but a couple in English for her to understand their bawdiness. Evander turned to their audience and handled their jeers with the same ease he had through the past few weeks, with a smile and an easy, deflecting joke. Never once alluding to her inability to perform her wifely duties, or suggesting her faults.
Together they made their way into the empty hall where the path to her room dragged on for longer than ever before. The heat between her legs increased as she walked, as if the friction of her fast pace intensified it. She ran her tongue over her lips, teasing the newfound sensitivity there. She wanted her husband’s hands on her face, his mouth on hers, his fingers skimming over the tightly fitted dress.
Finally, after a lifetime of a walk through the castle, they arrived at her door. She spun toward him, almost bumping into his chest, awkward in her eagerness. “Will you see me inside?”
He was so close, the delicate spicy scent of him prickled her awareness and made her almost moan with want of his kiss. Her gaze slid to his lips, pink from the chilled air, but she knew them to be warm. And soft.
He opened the door for her, allowing her to enter first before he followed. He stood there, his green eyes hooded with something she didn’t need to bother trying to read. “Will you close the door?”
He closed it with far more care than she could have. Diana’s body trembled now with the most incredible desire she’d never felt before. Her heart raced and her breath came erratic. Everything in her betrayed her desire, and it was all she could do to bother attempting to control it.
Her legs threatened to fall out from under her.
Evander did not seem to notice. Instead, he caressed her cheek and sent a delightful shiver dancing over her skin. “Ye look so verra beautiful.”
She remained silent, unsure how to respond, the same as earlier when he’d been so complimentary. Part of her didn’t trust the admiration when she had been told otherwise for so long, and yet part of her saw Evander as different.
His praise was a spell curling around her, embracing her – a thing so dangerously fragile she was fearful of it breaking.
His fingertips touched her chin.
“Will you kiss me?” she asked.
A soft groan came from the back of his throat, and the hand on her face swept around to the back of her neck, gently holding her in place. He closed his eyes and Diana did the same, her face tilting farther upward in anticipation for what she had spent far too many days wanting – her husband’s kiss.