Bride for a Knight by Sue-Ellen Welfonder Read Free Book Online Page A

orders you weren’t to come anywhere near me,” he snapped. “And that trumpet-tongued she-goat of a seneschal and every man belowstairs knows it!”
    Jamie sat down on the bed and folded his arms. “Mayhap if you’d eat more than the untouched gruel and watered-down wine on yon table, you’d have the strength to better enforce your wishes?”
    “I don’t have any wishes.” Munro glowered at him. “Or can you bring back my sons? And I dinna mean as bogles!”
    I am your son
.
    Jamie left the words unspoken, knowing now what had troubled Morag and his kinsmen.
    His da may well have aligned him in marriage to Alan Mor’s daughter, but he did so believing he’d be spared any contact with the son he’d e’er considered a bone in his throat.
    Even so, a wave of pity for the man swept Jamie.
    Pushing to his feet, he crossed the room in three quick strides, pausing before the nearest window. “Fresh air will chase the bogles from your mind,” he said, sliding back the latch and throwing wide the shutters.
    A blast of cold air rushed inside, but Jamie welcomed its bite. He braced his hands on the window’s stone ledge and stared out at the rain-chilled night.
    A quiet night cloaked in drifting mist so thick even the hills beyond Baldreagan’s walls were little more than dark smudges in the swirling gray.
    Somewhere out there Aveline Matheson slept.
    Or perhaps she stood at her own window, wondering about him.
    Just as chivalry deemed he ought to be thinking of her.
    If not with eagerness, at least kindly.
    Instead, it was a single glimpse of a dazzling will-o’-the-wisp he couldn’t get from his mind. A faery maid so delicate and fine he knew he’d barter his soul if only he could touch a single finger to her shimmering flaxen hair.
    Jamie frowned, shaking the notion from his mind.
    Other, more serious matters, weighed on his shoulders and in the hope of tending them, he turned from the window and plucked a cheese pastie off the platter on the table and returned to his father’s side.
    “Eat,” he said, thrusting the savory into the old man’s hand. “Bogles are more likely to come a-visiting those with empty, growling stomachs than a man well fed and sated.”
    Munro sniffed. “Dinna you make light of what I see nearly every e’en afore I sleep,” he grumbled, scowling fiercely. “And my wits aren’t addled as a certain clack-tongued scold surely told you.”
    “I am glad to hear it,” Jamie returned, pleased when his da took a bite of the cheese savory. “Finish that pastie and I’ll leave you to your peace. Eat two more and I’ll send up a fresh ewer of ale to replace that watery wine.”
    “Had I known what a thrawn devil you’ve grown into, I’d have ne’er agreed to Alan Mor’s plan,” Munro carped, between bites. “Broken alliance or no. And to be sure not to satisfy a snaggle-toothed old woman and a pack o’ lackwits who call themselves a council.”
    “Then why did you?”
    Munro tightened his lips and glanced aside. He’d finished the cheese pastie so Jamie went back to the table and retrieved two more.
    “Can it be you agreed for the pleasure of seeing me yoked to a Fairmaiden lass?” Jamie lifted a brow, betting he’d latched on to the truth. “’Tis no secret those sisters—”
    “The Lady Aveline deserves far better than the likes o’ you!” Munro blurted, snatching a savory from Jamie’s hand. “And I was cozened into the match, led to believe a groom would be chosen from your cousins. The
council
only saw fit to tell me yestermorn that Alan Mor specified you!”
    He all but choked on the savory.
    His eyes bugging, he leaned forward. “I’ll not besmirch my name by having Matheson and his ring-tailed minions claim I reneged on my word,” he vowed, wagging a cheese-flecked finger. “And, to be sure, you’re the lesser evil, much as it pains me to say it. I’m right fond of the wee lassie and I’d see her away from her da. He’s a scourge on the heather and