Tangled (Handfasting) by Becca St. John

never tasted of me nor
touched me as you have tonight."  He sounded as if he meant that.
    Maggie
rolled her eyes rather than let him know the exhilaration of his words.
    "And
you, Maggie?"  Talorc leaned up, pushed her over onto her back, "While
we are talking of pasts, what of the Bard, that was here tonight. Who is he to
you?"
    Please bed swallow me up . Maggie
did not want to answer.
    "Well?" 
He was not going to give up.
    "Why
do you want to be knowing?"
    "He
sang to you, did he do that before?"
    "He's
a bard, Bold, he sings for everyone. Back home they call him Babbling Birk the
Bard because he sings and talks so much."
    "He
courted you."
    No,
she thought, I courted him. "We were friends."
    "Close
enough that your brothers ran him off." 
    She
tilted her head, to see if he spoke the truth. She had never thought of that. If
her brothers had run him off, then Birk hadn't run from her. She smiled. There’s
a grand difference between running away from protective kin and running away
from a woman.
    "My
brothers ran him off?"
    She
pictured Birk, as he had been this evening. Sweet, hopeful, eager to please. Like
an expectant child, next to Talorc.
    Talorc
could never be seen as a child.
    "He's
more mouse than man."
    She
laughed at his predictable response. He sounded just like her brothers. "Birk
has a good heart and can sing better than any other."
    "He
could never love you better than me."
    "You
don’t love me Bold."  He didn't know her to love her. And once he did know
her, there would be no chance of love.
    “That’s
not the kind of love I’m talking of.”
    She
snorted.
    He
kissed her, a slow insistent taste.
    "Don't
MacKay." She fought the molten heat that trickled through her with his
words, the touch of his lips. He will love my body, but he will never love me.  She
held the thought like a chant.
    "Just
one more," he whispered, his mouth pressing against hers, his lips urging
hers to open.
    "Sleep
well, lass." His voice wrapped around her as surely as arms.
    It
was neither Seonaid nor Birk she pictured as she drifted to sleep, but Talorc. 
The one man she did not want to dream of.

CHAPTER 5 – MEANS OF ESCAPE
     
     
    Sun
filtered through the shutters in a time of year when the sun was a late riser. Maggie
overslept. So had the Bold, sprawled out on the bed as though sleeping with her
were a normal thing. He needed to catch up on his rest after nights of watching
over her. She, on the other hand, had slept enough since reaching Glen Toric. It
was time she started to do something.
    Anything.
    Only
it was cold, she was naked. The cold she could face, had been doing so her
whole life. It was the man in her bed that had her hesitating and an imp of
desire that wondered what would happen if he caught her slipping free of the
bed in no more than she was born with.
    She
closed her eyes to the temptation and listened to his steady snores. It would
be better if they were louder, deeper more arrogant. The noises he was making
could be mere play. He was on his stomach, his head turned away.
    There
would be no better chance. Maggie slipped off the bed, onto all fours. Should he
wake, he would have to roll over and move to the edge of the bed and peer down
to see her. She would hear that, and have enough time to scuttle behind the bed
drapes.
    Secure
in that plan, she crawled to the trunk at the foot of the bed, full of clothes
left by some of the clans’ women for Maggie.  Her chemise hung behind a screen
in the corner but she dared not go that far, and risk being seen.  Instead she
grabbed the first kirtle she found, pulled it over her head only to find it too
small when her arms got stuck. The reverse process proved harder than getting
it on.
    The
bed sheets rustled.  She stilled then frantically tried to pull the garment
off.  A great rending rip later she was free enough to use the garment as a
screen. Naked, except for the fabric held at her chest, she peaked over the
side of the feather mattress.
    The
Bold