but t’would be a waste to use such a fine horse for naught but that.”
“True but who is to say he will never turn to me? Given long enough away from ye and good care at my hands and the bond that ties him to ye could slowly weaken, even break.” He took careful note of the fear that briefly flashed in her eyes. “’Tis worth a chance.” He let her think on his words for a moment before drawling, “I may be willing to bargain.”
Her impulsive start of hope was quelled briefly by the strange glint in his eyes. “What sort of bargain?”
Leaning forward, he murmured, “Ye or your horse.”
Aimil frowned in confusion, wondering why the other men at the table were suddenly so quiet. “I dinnae understand.”
A slow smile touched his face as he traced the gentle curve of her face with one long finger. “Nay, ye truly dinnae. ’Tis astounding. I want your horse. I also want ye.” He smiled a little more when she blushed. “I willnae steal your horse if ye come to my bed.”
The outraged refusal she knew she should make immediately did not come forth. “I must speak to Leith.”
He sat back with a nod and signaled Malcolm to take her to her brother. “I will have my answer this night, Aimil.”
She paused in the doorway to look back at him with all the icy hauteur of a duchess despite her tangled hair and odd attire. “Sir, I dinnae recall giving ye leave to address me so familiarly.” She turned sharply on her heel and left before he could reply.
When Parlan had stopped chuckling, Lagan ventured, “So ye ask her to choose one stallion or another.”
Parlan frowned, wondering why being termed a stallion should bother him. “Aye, in a manner of speaking.”
“Why dinnae ye just seduce her? For such a stud as ye, t’would be easy or so says your reputation with the ladies.”
“I dinnae think she would be an easy one to seduce and I havenae the patience to wait long for her.”
Lagan’s brows rose sharply in a gesture of surprise. “If ye are that hungry for a wench…”
“I am not that hungry for a wench. Leastwise, I shouldnae be after Catarine wrung me dry but twa days past.” He grinned when Lagan laughed. “Nay, I am hungry for Aimil Siubhan O’Connell Mengue and I mean to have her.”
“Even if she doesnae come to your bed this night?”
“Aye. I will simply find another way.”
“I think ye also mean to try for the stallion as weel.”
“Aye. I said I wouldnae steal it. I didnae say I wouldnae try to win the beast over.”
“Parlan, ye are surely destined for hell.”
“Aye. Nay doubt, but I mean to have a taste of heaven first.”
Chapter Four
“He said what?”
Aimil looked at her brother, thinking how much a warm, dry bed and food had restored him. He was as weak as a baby and the fever still lurked in his blood, but she no longer feared he would die. She did think, however, that he was close to bursting a blood vessel in reaction to the bargain Parlan had offered her. Leith seemed ready to start spouting all sorts of male nonsense about honor and duty to name. It was going to be very difficult to tell him her decision.
“If I come to his bed, he willnae steal Elfking from me. ’Tis his ransom for my horse.”
Leith noticed the way she could not meet his eyes, busying herself with disrobing to her shift and performing her ablutions. “Ye mean to meet his price.” She began to brush her hair. “Answer me, Aimil.”
“Aye, I mean to meet his price.”
“Ye would sell yourself to him for the sake of a horse?”
“I would sell myself for Elfking. He isnae just a horse to me. Please, try to understand.” She wondered if he would guess that it was not for Elfking alone that she had decided to accept Parlan’s deal.
He sighed, regretting his harsh words. “I do understand. I ken weel what Elfking means to ye but what of honor?”
“Honor.” She set down the brush and turned to look at her brother. “Honor says I should cling to my chastity, save it for my husband who will be Rory Fergueson, a man I dinnae even like. Elfking is but a horse yet he is worth ten of Rory. Where is the honor in losing the best while clinging to something for the worst?”
“If t’was for my sake, t’would be understood but not to save a horse.”
“Those who ken me weel ken that there is a difference between ye in my heart. To save ye, I would give up Elfking. To save something Rory Fergueson will tear from me in but a blinking and with nary a thought to me, I willnae do. I cannae. I dinnae want to.”
He closed his eyes for he knew there was no argument to sway her. Having made it clear he did not want murder on his hands, Parlan MacGuin had searched and found the only other weakness Aimil really had. When Leith opened his eyes, Aimil had donned her shirt and stood by his bed, looking at him anxiously, tears streaking her pale face.
“Will ye turn from me, Leith?”
Lifting the bedcovers slightly, he patted the space beside him. She hastily filled it, huddling next to him and resting her cheek upon his chest. When his arm, heavy with weakness, curled around her shoulders, she closed her eyes with relief. Although she had no intention of turning from her decision, she had feared what it would cost her in her relationship with her brother.
“Brat, I think ye could whore yourself bowlegged and I would still love ye.” He smiled weakly when she gave a watery giggle. “God, if only I wasnae so weak,” he cursed. “I have been a poor protector for ye.”
“Nay. Odds have been against us from the start. Ye cannae fight a whole clan. Even if you were in full health, ye wouldnae be able to help me, Leith. If ye tried to put a stop to things, they would simply lock ye out of the way.”
“Aye, I fear what ye say is true. Are ye afraid, sweeting? He is a man about whom many a dark tale is told.”
“’Tis odd but nay.” She told him of the incident concerning Alex. “Ye see? The fearsome Black Parlan doesnae hold with the abuse of women. I cannae say the same for Rory Fergueson.” She noticed that Leith could not either but was not really surprised. “What is the worst that can happen to me?”
“Why, ye will be dishonored and,” Leith paused, blinked and continued slowly, “possibly unweddable.”
“That isnae a verra great loss to my mind.” She decided to be honest. “I hope for that, pray for it. Aye, I act partly with that firmly in mind. Ye never can tell. I may even enjoy myself. ’Tis said he is a great lover.”
“’Tis hard to ken if they mean his skill or the size of his staff,” Leith muttered. “I heard some ladies, if ye can term them such, their morals being loose, speaking about the Black Parlan last time I was at court.” He frowned as he recalled
