At the Queen's Summons by Susan Wiggs Page A

Iago. “Would that I had such a bedmate.”
    â€œIt’s not what you think,” Aidan managed to repeat in a low, strained voice.
    â€œNo,” said Donal Og with rueful envy, his jaw unhinging as Pippa straightened. Some of the water dampened the front of her shift, so that her flesh shone pearly pink through the white lawn fabric. She paused to pluck the top of a daffodil and tuck it behind her ear. “No doubt,” Donal Og continued, “it is a hundred times better than we think.”
    Aidan grabbed him by the front of his tunic. “I’ll see you do penance for six weeks if you don’t quit staring.”
    Oblivious, Pippa slipped back into the house. Iago made a great show of wiping his brow while Donal Og paced the yard, limping as if in discomfort. The horse made a loud, rude sound.
    â€œThe urchin turned out to be a beauty, Aidan,” he said. “I would never have looked twice at her, but you looked once and found a true jewel.”
    â€œI wasn’t looking for treasure, cousin,” Aidan said. “The lass was caught up in a riot and in danger of being thrown into prison. I merely—”
    â€œHush.” Donal Og held up a hand. “You needn’t explain, coz. We’re happy for you. Sure it wasn’t healthy for you to be living like a monk, pretending you were not troubled by a man’s needs. It is not as if you and Felicity ever—”
    â€œCease your infernal blather,” Aidan snapped, pierced to the core by the merest thought of Felicity. His grip on the parchment tightened. Perhaps the letter from Revelin of Innisfallen contained good news. Perhaps the bishop had granted the annulment. Oh, please God, yes.
    â€œDon’t speak of Felicity again. And by God, if you so much as insinuate that Pippa and I are lovers, I’ll turn blood ties into a blood bath.”
    â€œYou didn’t bed her?” Iago demanded, horrified.
    â€œNo. She ran off at the height of the storm and I brought her back here. She seems to have a particular fear of storms.”
    â€œYou,” said Iago, aiming a finger at Aidan’s chest, “are either a sick man or a saint. She has the body of a goddess. She adores you. Take her, Aidan. I am certain she’s had offers from lesser men than an Irish chieftain. She will thank you for it.”
    Aidan swore and stalked over to a stone hitch post. Propping his hip on it, he unfurled the parchment and began to read.
    The letter from Revelin of Innisfallen was in Irish. Aye, there it was, news regarding the marriage Aidan had made in hell and desperation. But that hardly mattered, considering the rest. Each word stabbed into him like a shard of ice. When he finished reading, he looked up at Donal Og and Iago.
    â€œWho brought this?”
    â€œA sailor on a flax boat from Cork. He can’t read.”
    â€œYou’re certain?”
    â€œAye.”
    Aidan tore the parchment into three equal portions. “Good appetite, my friends,” he said wryly. “I pray the words do not poison you.”
    â€œTell me what I am eating,” said Iago, chewing on the paper with a pained expression.
    Aidan grimaced as he swallowed his portion. “An insurrection,” he said.
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    By the time Aidan went back to Pippa’s chamber, she had dressed herself. Her skirt and bodice had been laced correctly this time.
    She sat at the thick-legged oaken table in the center of the room, and she did not look up when he entered.Several objects lay before her on the table. The morning sun streamed over her in great, slanting bars. The light glinted in her hair and gilded her smooth, pearly skin. The daffodil she had picked adorned her curls more perfectly than a comb of solid gold.
    Aidan felt a twist of sentiment deep in his gut. Just when he had thought he’d conquered and killed all tenderness within himself, he found a girl who reawakened his heart.
    Devil take her. She looked like the