Free Mary Reed McCall by The Maiden Warrior Page A

himself away from the wall to stand straight before her. He wasn’t really smiling, but Gwynne sensed the expression hovering around his lips. Humor warmed his dark gaze, and she felt an odd tingle up her spine when one corner of his mouth finally lifted with what might have been the beginnings of a quirky grin.
    She scowled and looked past him. “I’m not here for charitable reasons, as well you know,” she said, trying to push by. “Now, if you’ll get out of my way, I need to go train.”
    When he didn’t budge, she stopped and fixed him with a hard stare. “Unless, that is, you’ve come to prove yourself a lying Englishman like every other by going back onyour agreement to provide me with a place to do it.”
    He paused, his gaze cooling. “’Tis clear that for all your training , Gwynne, you’ve failed to master the art of being civil.” He lowered his arms to his sides, all hints of his previous good humor vanished. Somehow, he seemed taller and more powerfully built than she’d noticed before, all rippling muscle and sinew beneath the smooth cloth of his shirt.
    A burst of familiar battle-heat shot through her at his aggressive stance, and she cocked her head, daring him to take action. Almost hoping that he would give it a try so that she could fight him and dispel some of the prickling energy that seemed to rise in her every time he was near.
    “But I’m not here to prevent you from engaging in your exercises,” he continued. “I just need to discuss our plans for tomorrow first.”
    “Our plans?” she taunted. “We have no plans. I am your hostage for three months, and you are my keeper. ’Tis as simple as that.” Her mouth tensed, her hand still itching to grip the comforting weight of her sword-hilt.
    “Stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.”
    Now he looked more exasperated than he had with his sister when she’d defied him in the courtyard.
    “I thought I’d made it clear,” he said. “While you reside with me, we have to make a good show of the story I was forced to craft for you.” When she didn’t react, he added tightly, “That you are a distant relative in need of protection? That I’ve taken you in to try to find a suitable husband for you?”
    Gwynne just looked at him. “Aye. So…?”
    A muscle in Aidan’s jaw jumped, and she had the sudden urge to smooth her fingertip over the spot—a reaction that nearly choked her when she realized it. She forced herself to loop her thumbs nonchalantly into her sword belt.
    “In order to make anyone believe that story, you have to behave as a lady ,” he continued. “Something that, based upon your performance at dinner tonight, it seems you are either unwilling or unable to do.”
    Gwynne felt her face heat at his gibe, but she held back a retort until he added, “You need to try to act less like a warrior, Gwynne, and more like a woman.”
    Anger bloomed to the surface then, and she almost flung his words back into his face—but the look in his eyes stopped her. They held such a serious cast, such sincerity, that she found herself glancing away. He’d spoken true—in part, at least. She had exaggerated her bad manners at dinner, because she’d wanted to shock Diana and perhaps pay him back just a little for making her wear a dress. But she’d be boiled alive before she’d admit that to him.
    “I’ve done what you asked of me, de Brice,” she grated.
    “I’ve donned your ridiculous clothes, kept my mouth closed about my true identity, agreed to your scheme to pretend I’m seeking a husband. By God, I don’t know what more you want of me.”
    Owin coughed lightly and ducked back into the chamber, obviously as uncomfortable at witnessing his leader’s embarrassment in handling this unfamiliar role as she was in experiencing it.
    Aidan waited until he’d closed the door, then met her gaze again. “I know this isn’t easy for you, Gwynne, but acting the part is just as important as looking it. And