Susan King - [Celtic Nights 01] Read Online Free PDF Page A

"One of our Norman knights will do well for a husband for you."
    "Sire, please." Her voice faltered. "Consider my request."
    In the quiet, Hugo shifted his weight, and his chain mail hauberk chimed. The girl glanced toward the sound.
    The clarity of her eyes touched Sebastien like a spark. Her gaze was like a penetration of spirit, a tug deep within, as if she had pulled on his heartstrings.
    He had no heartstrings left to pull, he told himself. Each strand, he imagined, had been torn off, leaving remnants that no one could grip.
    Before she looked away, he glimpsed desperation in her troubled blue eyes. Unexpected sympathy coursed through him. He stood impassive as stone, but his heart beat faster. He had known need and fear, had buttressed them with pride and will, as he suspected she did.
    "The king will deny her request," Robert murmured.
    "That area needs the stable military might of Normans, not another Celtic warlord."
    "I want land and a wife, and I have come to Scotland to gain them," Hugo muttered, "but I will not give up my surname for them." He nodded to Sebastien. "You could adopt her name without a second thought, where we cannot."
    "Enough," Sebastien said in sharp warning.
    "I meant no harm," Hugo said. "You lack—"
    "Enough," Sebastien hissed. He trained his eyes ahead, his back straight as iron. Hugo grunted as Robert reprimanded him with an elbow jab. Hugo often spoke without thought, Sebastien knew. The man had saved his life in battle, and was a good fighting comrade, but he had the courtesy of a boar.
    No matter the worth of the land or the worth of the woman, Sebastien could never accept a woman's surname for his own. He had struggled long and hard to bring value to the name of Sebastien le Bret.
    To give that up was inconceivable.
    The king murmured to the girl, and she looked at her Highland companion, her cheeks rosy with dismay or temper. The Gael smiled at her.
    Ah, Sebastien thought. Alainna MacLaren displayed her strength to others, and revealed weakness only to this man. They contrasted in savagery and grace, but their bond, whatever its nature, was strong. The Gaels of Scotland held kinship and loyalty in highest esteem. He saw that shining in these two.
    A pang of envy seized him. He frowned and let it slide from him like an unwanted cloak.
    Sebastien hoped the girl would find the proud Celtic warrior she sought, a man who could meet her impossible standards and match her fine spirit.
    He, for one, was not her man.

 
     
     
    Chapter 3

     
    "Lady Alainna, the matter of your marriage will be carefully considered," King William said. "Word will be sent to you when a decision is reached. Farewell to you both."
    Alainna glanced anxiously at Giric. She and her foster brother had traveled so far to reap so little. The king seemed determined to choose her husband according to his conditions rather than her own. "Sire—" she began.
    The king ignored her, and looked toward the three knights who stood on the dais, matched in green surcoats and chain mail, matched in blond handsomeness and brawn. "Sir Sebastien, escort Lady Alainna and her kinsman. See that they receive provisions for their journey."
    "Sire." The tallest of the three men came forward. Alainna had noticed him earlier. He had watched her throughout, his gaze steady, but guarded.
    The Norman stood before her and inclined his head politely. "My lady, come with me," he said in Gaelic. She felt the warm press of his fingers through her sleeve. Startled by his warm touch as much as by the use of her language, she looked up at him.
    "I will not," she replied in Gaelic. "I have something more to say to my king."
    His brow lifted. "As you wish," he said mildly. He stood beside her, solid and strong, his mailed sleeve brushing her shoulder.
    She stared at him, distracted for a moment by his hard beauty, which was flawed slightly by a scar that seamed his left eyebrow. His hair was dark gold, his eyes gray and cool, his face lean and