Love's Magic by Traci E. Hall Read Free Book Online Page B

watched, and yet he lingered. His breath tasted of mint and wine, and she carefully pressed back. Her stomach was on fire, and her legs trembled. She felt faint, and tension hummed through her veins.
    He was nothing like Lord Riddleton.
    With a great effort, they broke apart like naughty children, much to the enjoyment of their audience.
    Celestia brushed away Nicholas’s steadying hand and stood on her own two feet. Nobody needed to know that her knees were shaking like a newborn lamb’s.
    She was Lady Celestia Montehue … er, she swallowed sickly and straightened her shoulders … Le Blanc? Peregrine. It didn’t matter, as she hadn’t chosen the title. She sent the spectators, along with her family, a wobbly smile. A lady did not collapse like a melted beeswax candle on her wedding day, and that was that.

    “Ye’ll be packed and ready to leave first thing in the morning,” Lady Deirdre cried. “I hate the baron, I hate him, and I do not care who tells him I said so,” she ranted, looking more beautiful and warrior-like than any painting of Queen Boadicea. The outdoor setting, the dusky night, and the bonfire all added to the pagan allure.
    Sighing with all of her might, Celestia knew her family needed her to be strong, even stronger than before. “It was wonderful of him to give us the keep in which Nicholas was born.” Sending a pleading look toward her sister, who was playing the flirt with Sir Petyr, Celestia said, “I just do not understand why we have to go immediately. What is the rush?”
    “Something to do with protecting the keep, I think. Your father questioned Sir Petyr about the knights already there. You will be fine.” Her mother blinked quickly. “Very well protected. Petyr claimed his toast this evening will be good news, for once.” Lady Deirdre glared at the knight, who buried his face in a mug of ale.
    Gali appeared at her side, handing her a goblet of honeyed mead. “Drink, sister dearest, for tonight is your wedding night.”
    Nicholas coughed, and Petyr slapped his back, laughing like a boy.
    Galiana slid a glance to where Sir Petyr and Nicholas were talking, dark head bent toward blond head. “He is certainly handsome.”
    Surprised, Celestia giggled softly and whispered, “Aye, he is handsome. And with good food and no more bouts of fever, he shall only get more so. I especially like that he has on a pair of shoes this eve.” She watched to see if Nicholas returned her sister’s admiration, but Nicholas seemed oblivious to everything around them. It warmed her spirit to see that he hadn’t fallen to Galiana’s charms.
    “Hmm? Oh,” Galiana laughed and lightly smacked Celestia’s arm. “I was talking about Sir Petyr.”
    Celestia closed her eyes briefly in relief. Not that her sister would take a man from her side on purpose, but men seemed to gravitate toward Galiana like a horse to water. Her sister’s beauty was as legendary in their county as her own healing powers.
    Their mother pulled them back into the men’s conversation. “It will be Galiana’s turn next, and I vow we shall find someone suitable. With land of their own,” she added pointedly to Sir Petyr.
    Celestia felt a stab of guilt. Galiana had turned down more offers of marriage than there were eligible men in the county. She said that she did not have any desire to wed, but Celestia knew that her sister had waited, longing for a man to sweep her off her feet like a minstrel’s romance. “I will keep my eye out for any stray gentry in the woods of Scotland,” she promised, a touch tipsy.
    “Nothing less than an earl, if ye please,” Galiana laughed and curtsied.
    Celestia sometimes envied her sister’s lack of healing ability. Gali could be beautiful and witty and fun without worrying over the world. Her creams and lotions were much-wanted gifts, and her perfumes were nothing short of heavenly. Men wrote sonnets and laid them at her feet, and she didn’t have to fret over sickness and health, life