Warriors In Winter: In the Bleak Midwinter. Michelle Willingham

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      ‘Turn your eyes elsewhere, Spaniard,’ she whispered. He recognised the edge of grief beneath her words. If she had lost her husband, then likely she would find his interest offensive.

      ‘I know your pain,’ he said softly. ‘The grief never leaves you. But time dulls it, eventually.’

      He gave a slight bow, and turned back to join the others. He didn’t have to turn, to know that she was now watching him.

      Brianna’s cheeks rushed with colour as Rhiannon returned to her side. ‘Why did you tell the Spaniard I was a widow?’ she accused.

      Rhiannon’s face narrowed with confusion. ‘And so you are. Why? Did he bother you?’

      She could give no reply. No, he hadn’t bothered her. But the open interest had provoked a fluttering response within her stomach. The Spaniard was taller than Liam, with dark hair and dark eyes. His skin held the olive tone of a man who had spent a great deal of time in the hot sun. And his physical form was muscular, like a fighter.

      Her cheeks burned at the memory of his touch upon her hood. She hadn’t missed the interest in his eyes, but it was his words that had shaken her.

      I know your pain.

      Did he? Then why would he dare to speak to her, as if he wanted to know her more intimately?

      Her cousin was looking embarrassed, and Brianna realised how she’d overreacted. She took a deep breath and apologised. ‘I’m sorry for my ill temper. You did nothing wrong.’ She took her cousin’s hand and tried to smile. ‘He should have looked at you, if he was wanting a woman.’

      ‘You were the one who captivated him,’ Rhiannon pointed out. ‘I didn’t interest him at all.’

      Brianna said nothing, not believing the words. ‘He may change his mind. Besides, I’m not looking to marry again.’

      ‘At least you had a husband once.’ Rhiannon’s mood darkened. ‘If my father got his way, I would be a bride of the Church. He’s threatened to kill any man who speaks to me.’

      ‘He doesn’t mean that.’ But both of them knew how protective Connor MacEgan was when it came to his eldest daughter.

      ‘Whether he does or not, there are no men in this tribe who will even look at me.’

      ‘The Spaniard might, if you tried,’ Brianna offered. Though she tried to pass off the suggestion in a casual manner, a sudden shyness passed over her. It had been so long since any man had shown an interest in her, she didn’t know how to respond to it.

      But Rhiannon sent her a secret smile. ‘Not him. But your sister is putting together a love charm for me today.’

      ‘Oh, no. You’re not going to indulge her, are you?’ There was no one more superstitious than her younger half-sister. Alanna believed in faeries and magic, and was convinced that she had otherworldly abilities.

      ‘What harm is there?’ Rhiannon said. ‘I’m supposed to meet her at the dolmen, and she’ll do what she can to find a husband for me.’

      From the amused look on the other woman’s face, Brianna relaxed. Her cousin obviously didn’t believe that magic could bring about a husband. ‘When?’

      ‘This evening, at sunset.’

      ‘Whatever you do, don’t drink any liquid she’s brewed. Heaven only knows what’s in it.’

      ‘I won’t,’ Rhiannon promised. ‘But whatever charm she casts, be assured of this. I won’t waste my time here any longer. I’ll find a husband and make my own fate.’

      They continued walking into the castle and learned that Queen Isabel had taken Adriana into the solar and had sent for wine and food. Liam had gone with his father, the king, as well as the dark-eyed Spaniard, to discuss her bride price.

      ‘I don’t envy Liam’s bride,’ Brianna whispered as they neared the door. ‘I imagine our aunt is questioning everything about her.’

      ‘We should rescue her,’ Rhiannon suggested.

      ‘Aye.’ Brianna pressed the door open, and the pair of them went inside. The young dark-haired woman was seated upon a stool beside Isabel, her hands clasped nervously in her lap. She’d removed her travelling cloak, and from the look of her expensive gown, she’d taken great care to look her best. The green silk shimmered with silver threads, while a gold necklace hung around her throat.

      ‘Rhiannon and Brianna, you are welcome to join us,’ the queen greeted them, smiling. ‘I have been asking Adriana about how she and Liam met.’

      Brianna exchanged a look with her cousin. No doubt Isabel had interrogated poor Adriana, hardly letting her touch the food and wine.

      ‘Liam rescued us when the queen and I were held captive on the island of Cyprus,’ Adriana admitted. ‘He risked his life to free us.’ A softness came over the young woman’s face at the mention of her betrothed husband. ‘He never left my side, even when we journeyed to Acre.’

      ‘Were you there amidst the fighting?’

      Adriana nodded, but her face turned pale at the memory of the Crusade. ‘My father and brothers made certain I could fight, if necessary.’ Her hand moved to her gown, and from inside the folds, she revealed a hidden blade. ‘I served the queen not only as her lady-in-waiting, but also as a guard.’

      The women continued sharing stories, but Brianna drifted off in a daydream. Though she had not been trained to fight as Adriana had, she imagined searching for the Lochlannach warrior, waiting until he believed himself alone. With the spear, she could confront him.

      A dark shadow fell across her mood. She’d never killed a man before, and it wasn’t an act she could take lightly. It was one matter to imagine avenging Murtagh; it was another to begin training for it.

      Was it the right thing to do? Indecision warred with her conscience. No one would think it unusual for her to seek vengeance, if she were a man. It wasn’t the favoured course of action, but it happened.

      She rested her hand on one cheek, unsure of what to do. For so long, she’d kept the spear, until the very sight of it made her ill. The voice of reason reminded her that she ought to destroy it and simply forget what had happened.

      But she couldn’t. Though a year had passed, the crippling sadness never left her alone. It pricked at her heart, leaving her raw and wounded.

      She studied Adriana. In the woman’s form, she saw a lean strength and a confidence. This was not a woman who would let any man threaten her. She would stand up for herself, not hiding away from the rest of the world.

      It was the woman she wanted to be, a woman of courage—not cowardice.

      Although she was uncertain how she might confront the raider, she supposed there was no harm in learning to defend herself or in mastering the use of a weapon. Despite the objection of the others, she could find a way to learn. And when she had mastered the skills she needed, she could make the decision then about whether or not to act against the Lochlannach raider.

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