With a laugh, the little girl shoved the Woodsman’s hood off his head.
Sorcha stumbled back with a gasp. Oh, dear goddesses!
The Woodsman was an elf.
Chapter 10
He didn’t know whether to be amused or angry. With his superior hearing, the Woodsman had heard Sorcha’s gasp. And he had to admit that the look of utter shock on her face was amusing. Just as he started to smile, her expression suddenly changed.
“Oh, my,” Bronwen whispered. “Why does she look so horrified?”
His smile withered away, and anger took over. “She just realized I’m what she calls an arrogant, two-faced bast—”
“Stop!” Bronwen interrupted him. With her head, she motioned toward her daughter while flashing him a pointed look.
He winced. With his normally calm demeanor, he never cursed in front of children. But then normally, he never felt this aggravated. He scowled at Sorcha. What did she have against elves? Had she trusted him only because she’d thought he was Eberoni? Would she reject him now? Hate him, even though he’d rescued her?
Damn! He put a screeching halt to those thoughts. Why should he care what she thought? In a week, she’d be gone from his life forever. And that would be for the best, because she was completely wrong for him.
“How can you have two faces?” Helen asked, her chubby little hands on his cheeks as she studied him. “I see only one face, and it looks really mad.”
“Is something wrong?” Bronwen touched his shoulder. “Were you injured?”
“I’m fine. Perfectly fine.” He gave them a strained smile, but Bronwen’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“What’s a bast?” Helen asked, and her mother groaned.
“Never mind about that.” He set the three-year-old on her feet, and she ran toward Lord Aiden, who had just reached the foot of the stairs.
“Daddy! Cousin Woody has two faces! And he’s a bast! What’s a bast?”
“What?” Aiden picked her up with a confused look.
Bronwen leaned close to the Woodsman and whispered, “So who called you a bastard?”
When he angled his head toward Sorcha, Bronwen snorted. “Good for her. I’ve been wanting to call you that for years.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“So what did you do?” Bronwen smirked. “Let me guess. You were too bossy.”
“Not at all.” Sorcha had used the word pushy. “I was simply decisive. It’s a mark of good leadership.”
Bronwen rolled her eyes. “I know this will come as a shock to you, but not everyone wants to be led.”
“Especially women,” Aiden muttered as he approached, and Bronwen switched her glare to her husband. He quickly added, “But I love strong-willed females. I have two.” He glanced at his daughter with a wry look. “I’m outnumbered.”
“Daddy, I want to see the horses,” Helen demanded.
Aiden sighed. “In a little while.”
The Woodsman snorted. Whenever he married, he would make sure his future wife and children knew who was in command. Sorcha’s words from earlier that afternoon flitted through his mind: Are ye going to make all the decisions without consulting me? Who put you in charge?
At the time, he’d been taken aback. No one in Haven or Drudaelen Castle had ever challenged his authority. In his frustration, he hadn’t known whether to kidnap her or kiss her. But he’d decided to rise to her challenge. For some strange reason, the prospect of proving himself and earning her trust had greatly appealed to him. So, when he had chased off the search party, and she’d said she loved it, he’d felt as if he’d accomplished something enormous. She’d even called it brilliant.
And in that moment, he had realized which one he wanted to do. Kiss her.
By the Light, he’d become some sort of fool. He had no time for this now. And how many times did he have to tell himself that she was wrong for him? Hell, she didn’t even like elves. She’d called them nasty.
He glanced at her and discovered she was easing her way toward the building where Aleksi was. She looked mortified now, her face downcast and her cheeks almost as red as her hair as she surreptitiously inched across the courtyard. His mouth twitched. She must be hoping no one would notice her escape.
He called out in Eberoni, “Sorcha, wait.”
She halted with a wince.
Yes, you’ve been caught. He smirked. “I’d like to introduce you to Lord Aiden and Lady Bronwen. And their daughter, Helen.”
Sorcha glanced shyly at his family and curtsied.
“Did you say my name?” Helen asked in Elfish as they walked toward Sorcha. She twisted in her father’s arms for a better view of their guest. “Why is she wearing breeches like a man? She looks different. She’s not an elf, is she?”
“Shh,” Bronwen hushed the little girl.
“Why is her hair so red?” Helen continued. “And her face is red, too. How can she be so red?”
“Let’s go look at the horses,” Aiden muttered as he carried the little girl to the stables.
With a wince, Bronwen leaned close to the Woodsman. “The princess doesn’t understand us, does she?”
He was wondering that, himself. He watched Sorcha carefully as he said in Elfish, “Some might find her looks unusual, but I think she’s beautiful.” Was that a flinch? Had her blush just turned a darker shade? “I want to take her to my bed.”
With a gasp, Sorcha stumbled back, her green eyes growing wide.
“Cousin!” Bronwen gave him an astounded look.
“Ha!” The Woodsman stepped toward Sorcha and pointed a finger at her. “I knew it. You do understand Elfish.”
“I . . . maybe a little,” she sputtered in Elfish. She lifted her chin. “Did you say that horrible thing just to get a reaction from me?”
He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Was it that horrible?”
“Of course! It was—oh!” She blinked, then another look of horror crossed her face. “This is terrible. Your eyes are lavender!”
Terrible? He scoffed. “That’s not unusual among us arrogant, two-faced—”
“But thank the goddesses!” She pressed a hand against her chest. “Your hair is completely wrong.”
“What?” He gave her an incredulous look. “You’re judging me by my hair now?”
“No, no.” She waved her hands in denial. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Nothing at all.” She wrinkled her nose as she brushed an errant curl off her brow. “Actually, the problem is quite the opposite. We traveled for hours and scared off a search party, and your hair and face and clothes still look perfect! Do you have any idea how aggravating that is?”
He tilted his head. He’d gone from terrible to perfect? This woman was as unpredictable as wildfire.
Suddenly, she lunged toward him and splayed her hands into his hair.
He stiffened. “What are you doing?” He felt her hands swirling around madly.
She stepped back, frowning as she muttered in Norveshki, “Dammit. He’s still handsome.”
Handsome? His knowledge of Norveshki was limited, but he could have sworn that was what she said. Why would she say that if she thought elves were nasty? By the Light, this woman made no sense at all. No wonder he was not in his right mind when he was around her.