Free The Highlander's Tempestuous Bride by Cathy MacRae Page B

neither, ye louns . They have better manners than ye do.” She made shooing gestures with her hands. “Now off to bed with ye.”
    Jamie and Finn stopped their antics and turned to face her. Something in their expressions sent a warning chill up Gilda’s spine.
    “Who were ye talking to in the garden?” Finn asked.
    Rage overruled the shiver of warning. “How dare ye spy on me? Get out of my sight!”
    Jamie piped in. “We saw ye kiss him.”
    “Who is he, Gilda?”
    “If ye get us some pastries, we won’t tell Ma.”
    As her brothers voiced their demands, Gilda rounded on them. “Ye are both horrible! Leave me alone! I dinnae want to see ye again!”
    She pushed past them and fled to her room as Jamie grumbled, “She isnae going to get us pastries, Finn.”
    Fighting back tears, she slammed the door, leaning against the sturdy frame. Her chest heaved, the air in the room heavy, seemingly too thick to breathe. Gilda darted to the window and pulled open the shutter. Cool, moist air rushed over her face. She tried to shove thoughts of the past hour deep inside her, but Ryan’s curious, amber eyes rose firmly in her mind. Memory of the feel of the hard planes of his chest as she leaned into his kiss returned to tickle the palms of her hands, and she scrubbed them against the rock frame of the window.
    Bewildered, Gilda leaned her forehead against the stone and stared blindly into the night. She knew there had not been an alliance between the Macrorys and the Macraigs in many years, but Ryan had sounded so confident he could change things.
    Why did she want him to? He was an unabashed rogue. Gilda’s lips curved in a secret smile. He also made her long for him to touch her, which certainly vexed her, but the circle of his arms was an exciting place she’d never dreamed of, and his smiles made her melt. She raised a finger and touched her lower lip. It still quivered from his kiss.
    A shout from a guard on the parapet caught her attention and she stared into the bailey below. The yard was empty except for two men who walked unhurriedly from the stables. The Macraigs were gone. Once again Gilda’s heart grew heavy. Had Ryan played her false? Had he meant the sweet words he’d whispered?
    Her eyes brimmed with tears. Why did she feel so hollow? What was happening to her?
    * * *
    Morning sunlight pierced the narrow window. A splash of cool water eased the tightness of her eyelids, swollen from too much crying and too little sleep. Gilda reached for the linen towel hanging from the hook near the bowl. The unexpected dampness of the cloth registered in her sleep-deprived brain as she lifted the towel to her face, then recoiled at the foul odor it contained. She drew back in alarm, noting the discolored areas on the normally white cloth. Gingerly she sniffed the towel. It reeked of rotting fish and salt.
    “Finn! Jamie!” Gilda stormed from the room, the abused fabric clenched tight in her fist. “Ma!”
    Snorts of barely stifled laughter echoed in the hallway, giving Gilda no indication where the twins were other than somewhere nearby. And that was entirely too close to her this day.
    “Ma!”
    Riona appeared in her doorway, a finger raised to her lips. “Silence! There are guests in this castle, and ye willnae cause a scene.”
    Gilda propped her hands on her hips, unable to soften the anger on her face. “The louns in the hall below are fair puggled after their meeting last night. I doubt the baying of hundred cu sith would move them.”
    “Gilda!” Riona gaped in shock. “What has gotten into you?”
    For answer, Gilda waved the foul-smelling towel in the air. Riona ducked, her nose wrinkling in objection as the odor wafted toward her.
    She lifted a hand in surrender. “Finn! Jamie!”
    To Gilda’s surprise, both boys darted from their hiding places and ran to their mother. Pulling at her skirt, they clamored about her feet.
    “Are there cu sith here?”
    “ I saw their footprints outside—”
    Finn