The Handfasting by Becca St. John Read Free Book Online Page B

strode past the warriors, stepped over the threshold and
out the door. The MacKay men fell in step.
    “Stop
following me.”
    “We
have to see to your safety.” They told her respectfully, though they did drop
back. Unfortunately, it was not far enough to silence their banter.
    “Aye,
she has spirit.”
    “Feisty.”
    “She’ll
not tame easily.”
    "I'll
not tame at all." She snapped, her eyes on her destination. Someone would
answer for this.
    As
heads turned to watch the progress of the threesome, Maggie realized that she
would have to be the one to take matters in hand. So she would. Determined, she
spun around to confront them.
    “Do
you know, this is MacBede land?” She kept to her most ladylike voice. “And that
I am a MacBede?”
    “Aye,
we are knowing that.” They grinned stupid grins.
    “Well,
then, I don’t know how it is at the MacKay keep, but here a woman is safe to
walk on her own.”
    “You’ll
be safe on MacKay land.” One of them offered.
    She
stumbled on that, bewildered. There was naught she could say, but still she
hesitated. Even when she turned to walk off again, she did so with a great deal
of wariness. They were fools if they thought she would ever be in MacKay
territory. She'd never left MacBede land and had no intention of doing so.
    She
should set them straight. Walking backwards, she told them. “If I ever visit
the MacKays, which I doubt would be soon, I’ll be remembering that. But for
now, kindly leave me be.”
    She
stood still, waited.
    They
stood still, focused on her.
    “I’m
only going up to the keep,” she informed them, as if they were simple in the
head.
    They
nodded.
    She
turned, took a step and looked back. They hadn’t followed her, but their grins
were as wide as  doorways. She hoped their faces ached from them.
    She
walked a few paces before she checked on them again.
    “You’ll
do us proud, Maggie MacBede,” they told her.
    Harumph.
She strode up to the keep, without another turn.                            
    She
was not a pleasant person, right now. In truth, she was feeling a mite
shrewish, and it was all the MacKay's fault.
     
    ·       * * * * * * * * * * *
     
    The
swarm of people within the great hall helped break the chill of the changing
season. The MacBedes and their guests milled about the central fire pit, as smoke
rose, curled about their heads before drifting higher and out the window slits.
    The
main doors flew open. Fire flared, as smoke swirled wildly into a dancing
specter. Maggie stood upon the portal, fists planted on her hips, head high. Her
glorious mane billowed about her.
    Anticipation
speared Talorc. She was proud and magnificent and soon she would be his.
    “Shut
that door, Maggie,” her father called across the cavernous room, “and come
speak to The MacKay.”
    Talorc
watched her advance. Two of his men, William and Bruce, filled the entrance,
shut the door and followed in Maggie's wake.
    Aye,
she was magnificent, and raring for a fight. Talorc waited, knowing he was in
her sights, knowing that she’d stop no more than a foot's distance. Far enough
that she’d not get a crick looking up at him, close enough for confrontation.
    There’d
not been a day in Talorc’s memory when a woman, other than his ma or even his
grandma, had railed at him. Aye, for that, he could not remember a time when a
woman had been a challenge.
    He
wanted to laugh, felt it rise inside of him. Not in jest, never in jest. His
Maggie was no laughing matter. This was pure exhilaration. He had to fight it,
for she wouldn't understand the smile on his face, and she was riled enough
already.
    He
pictured her taunting him, goading him with her luscious body, using a mattress
for the battlefield. His body tensed, nostrils flared. Now was not the time for
this.
    For
distraction he focused on William and Bruce. They followed her path, close
enough to grab her if need be, far enough to give Maggie her own