A Love Unveiled

Chapter Twenty-Nine

  

            The evening meal came all too quickly. Alana found herself seated at the very table with the object of her brooding thoughts sitting to the left of her.

 

            She felt many eyes upon her and focused intently on her untouched plate to avoid them.

 

            A woman cleared her throat, that woman; sitting across from her, was Rosalind.

 

            “Forgive my obtuseness, but I thought serfs ate with the rest of the lowly peasants, not at the table with their Lord?”

 

            Alana lifted her head and her eyes connected sharply with Rosalind’s sullen black stare and she felt a redness creep in her cheeks as all eyes turned on her.

 

            The man to Alana’s right shifted in his chair and corrected sternly, “She is my betrothed-“ Curran was quick to reply, “It would be uncomely to have my soon-to-be-wife sitting elsewhere.”
            Rosalind shied away from Curran’s heavy stare and clamped her mouth shut, silently seething.

 

            Alana glanced from beneath her lashes to sneak a chance at Fallon. He had been silent all throughout dinner and appeared very much displeased in having her present.

 

            She would have done anything to avoid this happening but Curran had not given her much of a choice.

 

            His food remained untouched, all but his mead, which he gripped menacingly in one hand. His face was taut and expressionless.

 

            Her heart ached at the sight of him.

 

            How did she come into this mess?

 

            She would have done anything to avoid marrying Curran.

 

            Fallon was suddenly on his feet and exiting the hall. Alana watched him go, surprised at how calm and quietly he had left the table.

 

            She would have done anything to know his thoughts.

 

            Another chair scraped against the stone floor. Alana turned and caught eyes with Rosalind. Turning her nose upward in a haughty manner, Rosalind gathered her skirts and followed Fallon’s departure.

 

            The meal carried on and Alana waited until she felt it a good time to retire. Curran entertained his meal and the company of his men, paying little heed to her as she arose from the table and quietly left the hall.

 

            She was tired she realized, slipping into the darkened corridor, so tired, that she hadn’t noticed the massive shadow leaning casually against the stone wall, watching her intently.

 

           

 

            “Alana.”

 

            She froze, startled as Fallon stepped toward her. “Fallon?” she frowned, “What do you do?”
            His gold eyes leveled on her face, “Does it please you?”

 

            Her brows knitted together at the question, “Does what please me, Fallon?”
            His beautifully handsome face grew taut, “To become my brother’s wife?”

 

            She was startled by the question, even more so by the scowl that darkened his face, “He saved my life.”

 

            His jaw clenched, “So naturally, you would consent to marry him?”

 

            She tilted her chin, “I have no intention of marrying anyone, nor do I intend to have this conversation, you’re head is clearly clouded.”

 

            He stepped in her path, hindering her escape, “I won’t let you marry my brother.”

 

            Her green eyes narrowed deliberately, “Good.”

 

            “You will marry me.” He growled,

 

            Alana felt the floor tilt beneath her feet at his declaration. Her heart did a strange flutter as well as her stomach. She peered at him as if he had lost his marbles, yet, within, a part of her had waited to hear him say those words, confess some semblance of what she thought had been a blossoming love between them. Did this mean he loved her? Or could he not abide the thought of another man having her because he had yet to stake his claim on her virtue?

 

            She shut down any hopeful feelings and instead, hardened her heart. “Do you forget? You are already betrothed. Your King would not be thrilled if you violated your oath. You see what becomes the enemy when they betray your king? Must you tempt that path?”

 

            He inhaled deeply through his nose, and his large chest broadened with it. “I do not desire Rosalind as I desire you.”

 

            Despite her best efforts to reveal little of her feelings, she felt compelled to say the words that arose in her throat. “So naturally, you would wed me, just to bed me?”

 

            Say it. She demanded silently. Tell me that you love me and I will give myself to you freely. She was surprised that the thought came so naturally, so eagerly to her, and the truth behind it, was even more startling.

 

            His gold eyes burned precariously in the dark, “Curran does not deserve you.”

 

            “And you do?”

 

            He grinned, “You were made for me, Alana. I’ve held you in my arms; your body fits perfectly to mine.”

 

            She shook her head, “That doesn’t mean anything.”

 

            He stepped toward her and she felt her insides stir, “You know that it does.” He reached out and cupped her cheek. “I have wanted you the moment I laid eyes on you. You revived me with your kindred heart. Your gentle touch awakens a fire in me. It means more than a mere tumble.” His eyes settled on her mouth, “I will have you as my wife-“ he fell silent, teasing her jaw with feather-like caresses, “-even if I must defy my king, and betray my brother.”

 

 

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