Sighing, he stopped at the top of the stairs and peered down over the great hall, looking for his brothers. Geordie and Alick had arrived back from MacDonnell last night after the rest o’ the keep had gone to bed. Exhausted from their journey though they were, Alick had still offered to guard Edith’s door for him to give him a break, but Niels had refused and sent the younger man to bed. Now he thought perhaps he should have accepted the offer. He had been less than useless snoring away outside her door, especially if her tripping over him hadn’t woken him. If that were true, then anyone could have just stepped over him, entered the room and killed Edith. Not that that was a real concern anymore. They were pretty sure Victoria was the culprit and she wasn’t here. Still, pretty sure wasn’t positive and it was better to be safe than sorry.
Niels’s gaze slid over the people bustling this way and that in the busy great hall below, and then he suddenly relaxed against the railing as he spotted Edith. She stood out in the crowd, a bright figure in pale green with fiery hair. She was chatting with Tormod, Geordie and Alick, he saw, and smiled when she laughed. The sound was like a bell in the room, clear and sweet, and Niels found himself wanting to hear more of it.
“She does no’ understand why ye’re acting as ye are toward her.”
Niels glanced over to see that his brother had followed him and now stood at his side, peering down at Edith.
“Acting how?” Niels asked, though he knew the answer. He’d been pretty grumpy and grim around Edith since the clearing. He’d also been placing Tormod or Ronson at the table between him and Edith at meals, and keeping his distance. Guarding her, but at more than an arm’s length, never close enough to touch. Niels would like to say his exhaustion was the reason, but it wouldn’t be true.
“Acting like she disgusts ye,” Rory said quietly.
Niels almost laughed at the suggestion, disgust was far and away from how he felt about the woman. That was the problem.
“I think she likes ye,” Rory added when Niels didn’t comment.
He stiffened at the suggestion, but said nothing.
“I think ye like her too,” Rory added.
“O’ course I do, she’s a lovely woman. Smart, pretty, funny, beautiful, good-natured, lovely, kind to her people and beautiful.”
“Ye said beautiful twice,” Rory said with amusement. “Four if ye count lovely and pretty as the same word as beautiful.”
“Leave off, Rory,” Niels said wearily. “Ye ken there can never be anything between us.”
“And why is that?” Rory asked with interest.
“Because I’m a third son with no prospects just like Brodie with Victoria. Only I’d ne’er lie to claim her. She deserves better.”
“Ye’re the fourth son actually,” Rory said quietly.
Niels turned to skewer him with a glare. “Would ye bring up our Ewan at a time like this?” Before Rory could respond, he added grimly, “He’s dead and gone, let him rest.”
“Fine.” Rory glanced back to Edith, but added, “Howbeit she can no’ possibly deserve better than you. Ye’re one o’ the finest men I know.”
“The other finest men being our brothers,” Niels suggested with amusement.
“Aye,” Rory acknowledged without apology. After a moment, he added, “Besides, Edith has no prospects. Saidh said her betrothed died years ago while still a lad, and ye ken as well as I do that Brodie’ll ship her off to a nunnery the minute he gets back.”
“Aye, well, ye heard her the other day. She has plans to avoid that by marrying a nice wealthy laird with a castle and people fer her to run,” he reminded him.
“It will no’ happen,” Rory said with certainty, and when Niels frowned at him, shrugged and said, “Do you ken o’ anyone who fits that description?”
“Aye, one or two,” Niels said unhappily.
“Any ye’d recommend to her?” Rory added.
“Nay,” he said at once. Neither man was husband material. One was notoriously violent, having beaten two wives to death. Hence the reason he could not even buy a wife at this point. The other could no’ pull himself out o’ the wine barrel long enough to sign a contract. Neither was good enough for Edith. Hell, he wouldn’t even recommend them to the likes of Victoria, who might very well be a murdering witch.
“Exactly,” Rory said firmly. “She’ll no’ find a husband and will end up a nun.”
Niels’s hands tightened on the rail. The very thought of Edith as a nun made his stomach twist. It seemed to him to be a sacrilegious suggestion; vibrant, fiery Edith as a nun, never experiencing love or loving, never having children or a home.
“I think ye should marry her,” Rory said.
Niels closed his eyes briefly and then shook his head. “I have nothing to give her. According to me plan it will be four more years ere I could give her a home or—”
“She’d be welcome at Buchanan with ye, Niels, and ye ken it.”
“Aye, but she—”
“Is no’ Victoria,” Rory said solemnly. “Ye heard her as clear as I did when she said she’d be happy with a cottage and bairns.”
Niels hesitated and then said, “What if she does no’ want to marry me?” he asked, and then admitted, “I want her. But I do no’ want a wife who only marries me to save herself from having to become a nun.”
Rory laughed softly at the suggestion. “Brother, the woman has been eating ye alive fer days with her eyes. She tracks yer every move, kens where ye are every minute and does no’ miss a word ye say. And judging by the look in her eyes as she does it, the nunnery is the last thing she thinks o’ when she looks at ye.” He peered down at Edith now almost wistfully, and admitted, “In truth I’m terrible jealous. She looks at ye the same way Saidh looks at Greer, and Murine looks at Dougall. I can only hope that someday a woman will look at me like that.”
“Really?” Niels asked hopefully. He’d been so busy trying to keep from looking at Edith, he hadn’t noticed how she looked at him.
“I’d never lie to ye about something like that, Niels,” Rory said solemnly.
Edith’s laughter rang out again and Niels turned to peer at her. He then found his feet taking him down the stairs to join her, when if he had a lick of sense he knew he’d take himself off to his room and get some much needed sleep. He should really be well rested to consider such a serious decision, he knew. Unfortunately, he didn’t appear to have the sense God gave him at the moment. All he could think was that he wanted to be with her.
“It’s no’ true!” Edith was protesting on a laugh as he reached the table.
“What’s no’ true?” Niels asked with a smile, stopping next to Tormod and wondering if it would be rude to ask the man to move over so he could sit next to Edith. He was supposed to be guarding her after all. Well, technically, his guard duty was over, still—
“Niels,” Geordie and Alick said together.
He glanced to his brothers and nodded and then spotted Edith’s smile and returned it as she greeted him with a cheerful, “Good morn, kind sir. I hope ye slept well.”
Niels stilled and it was Alick who said on a laugh, “Oh, that’s just cruel, that is.”
“What?” Edith asked with a frown, and then her eyes widened with dismay. “Oh, I never meant—’Tis just a greeting, I did no’ mean to—”
Waving away her apology, Niels dropped to sit on the bench on the other side of Tormod and leaned forward to look past him to see her. “Ne’er fear, I’m no’ offended,” he assured her, and then added with self-disgust, “’Tis no less than I deserve fer sleeping on guard duty.”
“Aye, well, asleep or no, I’m sure just yer presence there at my door was enough to keep anyone from poisoning me in my sleep,” she told him firmly.
Niels bit his lip and held back the smile that wanted to claim him at her words. Poisoning her in her sleep? That would be a new trick. Did the woman think he’d sat outside her door all night to prevent her being poisoned? It was in case the poisoner wasn’t Victoria and decided to move on to other tricks now that poisoning was not on the table.
“Besides,” Edith added with a concerned expression, “ye must ha’e been exhausted to sleep so soundly. Why, ye did no’ even stir when I fell on top o’ ye.”
Niels stiffened and asked sharply, “Fell on me? Rory said ye only tripped.”
Edith grimaced, but admitted, “Aye, well, I tripped and then fell on ye.” She shrugged. “I suppose I’m still recovering and a little clumsy.”
“So, ye’re saying ye actually fell on top o’ me and I did no’ wake up?” he asked with dismay. His brothers were forever teasing him that he could sleep through a battle raging around him, but good God, if he’d actually slept through Edith’s falling on him . . .
“Aye, I was most concerned I’d hurt ye, and mentioned me worries to Geordie and Alick when they came out o’ their room, but they assured me ye were fine, just a sound sleeper. And as they escorted me below they began regaling me with tales o’ other times ye’d slept soundly.”