In truth, the selection of his future bride had been the subject of many amusing conversations, but that Cadell would never know the lovely lass in his arms filled Egan with a profound sense of loss. That he had so recently sworn never to want the woman who had kept him from his father’s bedside struck a particularly discordant note. His chest tightened with an anguished sorrow, and while he still wanted Oriana, he moved aside to gently cradle her head upon his shoulder.
Robbed of his warmth and strength, Oriana knew she had only herself to blame. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned your father at such an inappropriate time.”
“No, you needn’t apologize. I don’t want him to be forgotten.”
Certain he was merely being polite, Oriana settled into his embrace. For a few precious moments, she had felt adored, but by mentioning Cadell she had stupidly inflicted needless suffering. She had such little experience at pleasing men that surely nothing would ever run smoothly for them. Egan’s swift downturn of mood served to confirm her decision to leave the fortress on the morrow.
“Cadell would not have approved of me either,” she murmured absently.
“Not only would he have approved,” Egan teased, “he would probably have insisted on your spending our wedding night with him. It is a king’s right.”
“What?” Oriana sat up with a start. “Oh, I’ve heard there’s such a custom, but no king would treat his son that badly, would he?”
Intrigued by her question, Egan propped his head on his hands. “Would that be treating only me badly? Would you welcome the opportunity to make love with another man first?”
“First?” Oriana mimicked. “I don’t recall agreeing to make love with you.”
“And yet we’re discussing how you might have spent our wedding night?” His earlier hesitance forgotten, Egan began to laugh at the absurdity of her complaint. “My father never took another man’s bride, nor will I, but there is no pleasing you, Oriana.”
“Nor you either, my lord,” Oriana was quick to respond, but she had not meant to sadden him and was enormously relieved to hear him laugh. Turning away, she yanked a pelt up to her chin and tried to sleep, but she missed the comfort of his warm shoulder and wished there might have been a different end to their final night together.
The next morning, Egan waited until he was ready to leave his chamber before waking Oriana. She was curled amidst the furs like some hibernating forest creature and sleeping so soundly he had to shake her shoulder twice.
“Come, my beauty, the pheasant are waiting.”
Oriana opened one eye to peer up at him. He had rolled back the tapestry covering the windows, and the chamber was aglow with the pale rosy light of dawn. She covered a noisy yawn and snuggled deeper into the furs.
“I wish you great success. I’ll sleep until your return.”
Egan rested his fists on his hips, but quickly decided he dared not leave her alone in a household filled with curious strangers. He again leaned down to grasp her shoulder and this time was insistent.
“You’re coming with me. Get up and dress while I fetch our breakfast. I’ll not allow you to go another hour without eating.”
Oriana raised her palms to muffle a second wide yawn. She had meant to feign sleep, but truly was too tired to move. “I don’t believe I slept at all last night. Please, hunt with your friends and leave me to my dreams.”
Her eyes fell closed as though he had granted her request, but Egan quickly scooped her up into his arms and then nearly tossed her into the air. “Wake up. It isn’t like you to lie in bed. I want you to see the hawks and tell me if any resemble the one your mother owned.”
Oriana slid her arms around his neck to hold on. Freshly shaven, his cheeks were so smooth, she could not resist the impulse to caress him with her fingertips. “It was too
long ago. Please let me sleep.”
Her touch was featherlight, but she was fondling him nevertheless. It was a victory, although a small one. “If you’d rather, I’ll cancel the hunt and stay here in bed with you,” he offered.
Oriana watched his smile slide into such an enticing grin, there was no mistaking his intentions. “Is that my only choice, to be with you either in or out of bed?”
Egan laughed. “It’s still a choice, my lady, and I urge you to make it before I drop you. I should hate to see you too badly bruised to sit a horse.”
“You would never drop me,” Oriana replied.
Her voice was low, softly confident, and for an instant, Egan felt as though she could see into his soul. Though it was flattering to learn he had finally won her trust, the knowledge held a chill of danger. He wanted to drop her then, if only on the fur-cushioned bed, but his arms refused to release her.
No one had called him a fool this time, but he felt one all the same. He carefully placed Oriana on her little bare feet and with a forced bow backed away. “I promised breakfast,” he announced firmly, and swiftly left the chamber.
Deeply puzzled as to what had just transpired, Oriana thoughtfully reviewed their brief conversation as she bathed with the jug of water Egan had thoughtfully left warming on the hearth. Had she not known him better, she would have sworn fear had driven him away, but that was too absurd a notion to entertain.
Surely he had only been too hungry to tease her any further, but as she dressed, she began to wonder if perhaps he would be sufficiently distracted during the hunt to allow her to ride away. It was a possibility at least, and if the chance came, she vowed not to waste it.
When they reached the bailey, Oriana found not Brute, a horse she would have felt justified in taking, but a small gray mare Egan had chosen. “What a pretty little horse,” she exclaimed.