“There’s a new girl coming up tomorrow to take charge of your washing,” Arran interrupted.
“I don’t have that many clothes as to require a special maid.”
“I’m sure you’ll find ways to keep her busy.” Arran continued walking.
Breghan hurried after and three doors down found herself at the entrance to his bedchamber. She’d assumed they’d talk in the sitting area. Apparently not. Brown furs covered the floor and a raised bed dominated the large room. She stood on the threshold and watched Arran kneel in front of the hearth to start the fire.
“Come in,” he said without looking up. “I willna bite unless you bite first.”
Irritated that her hesitation was so transparent, Breghan stepped inside and closed the door behind her. The only place to sit was a broad armchair with leather padding on the seat and back, but that was right beside the hearth and Arran. Perching on the bed wasn’t an option.
“You wanted to talk,” she reminded him.
“Aye.” Arran glanced over his shoulder. “Bryan showed you around today, is there anything else you need to know or wish to ask?”
“Before I rush in headfirst?”
“I want you to feel comfortable in your role as mistress here while I am gone.” He unhooked the poker and shifted on his haunches so he could share his attention with her while he stoked the kindling flames.
When Breghan shook her head, he went on. “Ferniehirst lies close to the debatable land and, as such, we take more cautions here than you’re accustomed to.”
“Are you expecting trouble from the English?”
“I always expect trouble, and it’s usually closer to home. Robbie Scott is a particular enemy of mine, though I vow he has more brains than to harm a female under my protection. The outlawed Armstrongs, on the other hand, ride the border lands in packs and have the morals of a rat.” He stopped poking the fire to look at her. “The liberty you enjoyed at Donague is impossible here, especially if it becomes known I’m not in residence. I want you to stay within Ferniehirst’s walls while I’m away.” He gave her a warning scowl. “That’s an order.”
“Are you saying I can’t ride Angel?”
“I’m pleased you understand.”
Not be able to ride or leave the enclosure?
The mere thought was enough to thicken the air around her, choking her good intentions of this morning. “What do you think I’ll do? Ride out with a flag and invite your enemies inside?”
“Right now I’m thinking of the circumstances under which we first met.” His smile hardened into a grimace.
Breghan repressed any further instincts to lash out. This was far too important to risk with pride or temper.
She sucked down a calming breath and dropped to her knees at Arran’s side. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as she placed a tentative hand on his thigh. “I know you think me reckless and foolish, but I swear I’ll do nothing to cause you shame.”
“This isn’t about punishing you for past behaviour, Bree, ’tis about the nature of my neighbours and your safety.”
“Arran, please, I beg you to reconsider.”
“My mind is set.”
“You don’t even know how long you’ll be gone for.”
“It won’t be so long that you’ll forget how to ride.” He covered her hand on his thigh with his and smiled.
“I can’t…” She gazed into his eyes, pleading openly. “Some days I feel the walls close in on me and riding hard and fast is the only way to keep from being crushed.”
“That’s your wild spirit.”
“Which you despise.” Breghan drew her hand back and shifted her gaze to the flames, knowing she’d lost.
There was a long pause before he spoke. “I’m leaving Broderick and Duncan behind to keep an eye on you.”
Defiance stewed inside her breast. She’d tried pretty words and pleading and he rewarded her with jailors.
“You willna set foot outside these walls unless they’re both riding at your side,” he said.
Her head swung his way, her eyes wide and disbelieving that for once he’d yielded.
“You’re to go out only across the river where my men patrol the perimeters of Kerr land, is that clear?”
“Whatever you say. Thank you, I promise to take great care.”
Arran pushed to his feet and held a hand out to help her up. “I’ve something to show you.”
He collected two linen towels from the table before crossing to a door she hadn’t noticed. From the doorway, she saw the steep steps built into the wall that led to an enclosed courtyard below. Beneath a single apple tree with pink and white blossoms was a stone table and bench.
“You’re welcome to come here whenever you wish a little solitude,” Arran told her as he descended the steps.
“It’s beautiful.” She followed down the steps, breathing deeply of the apple blossom. At the bottom, she flung her arms out and laughed as something deep within her chest caught glow. It had more to do with Arran yielding than the secluded paradise, but she didn’t care to stop and wonder what that meant. She was free to ride Angel and Arran wasn’t completely immune to her wishes.
Arran shot the bolt of a wooden gate that creaked as he pulled it open.
“Where does that lead?” she asked, peering around his shoulder.
The courtyard was built on a bend in the river, so the vast expanse she looked out on was at a different angle and obscured from the fields she’d seen earlier. These fields were uncultivated. In the distance, she saw a herd of cattle moving between trees and short shrubbery and grazing in the long grass.
“We keep our cattle well protected and you can see anyone approach long before they reach you,” Arran said as he walked to the river edge. “Are you coming in?”
She dashed a quick look across the flat rocks and the swirling pools and shook her head. “I told you I can’t swim.”
“I intend to teach you.” He stripped his shirt and then he started on his boots.
She fixed her gaze on the cattle in the distance. “Um, another time, perhaps.”
“Bree,” he called out softly, “look at me.”
She almost refused, but then she gave one of those careless shrugs she’d learnt so well from him. After all, she’d seen Arran’s bared chest before.
Muscles coiled at his ribs like thick ropes and the short hairs brushed across his chest were a dark, dark blond. His hips were lean and broad, his stomach hard and flat. Her gaze dropped a mere inch more, to the point where his chest hairs disappeared beneath the band of his breeches, where his fingers worked the belt loose.
She’d been a fool to underestimate the potency of his raw attraction, especially when her body now had real experience to draw on. She’d been pressed up against the full length of him too many times, her pulse racing and every inch of her aware of the man as his kisses fell upon her lips, her cheeks, her throat.
“You may leave your shift on if you’re shy.”
He slid his hands over his hips and she jerked her gaze all the way up again.
The brute is taking everything off!
“I’m cold.”
“You’re afraid.”
“The water’s freezing.” She glared at him until he dipped his gaze and dived into the water. Her lungs began to ache and she remembered to exhale.
When he came up, his hair plastered back from his forehead, she was relieved to see the pool was deep enough to cover him below the waist.
“This lesson serves a dual purpose, Bree.” The crevices of his jaw seemed more pronounced than ever. “If we’re to live as man and wife, you must be familiar with my body.”
And I with yours.
The unspoken words were written in his eyes, now darkened to slate and as murky as the river water. When she’d agreed to come to him quietly and obediently, this wasn’t what she had in mind.
He held his hand out. “Come to me.”
“Is that an order?”
“Would that make it easier for you to surrender to your sensuality?” He shook his head. “I never took you for a coward.”
She straightened her shoulders and set her chin on high. Blast the man, she knew what he was doing.
“I’m neither a coward nor in the mood for lessons.” She turned her back on him and walked away. “Enjoy your swim.”
If she expected to hear more on the matter, Arran proved her wrong. He was slightly distracted during supper, talking throughout in a low voice to Ewan, the captain of his guard, who sat on his other side.
As she was climbing into bed that night, however, Arran came through the connecting door. He was barefoot and shirtless, as if he’d already started to undress or perhaps even gone for another swim.
“I’ve thought about your offer.” He met her startled gaze in the flickering candlelight. “I want you in my bed.”
Breghan nodded. She tried to say something, but her throat was suddenly parched. It was better to get this over with now, she told herself, than to stew in anticipation until his return. When she saw he intended to wait, she scooted to the side of the bed and brought the covers with her.
His smile came and went so quickly, she might have imagined it but for the ghost of amusement riding his raised brow.
He has every right to be amused. What’s the point of holding on to modesty when I’m en route to his bed?
She set her shoulders back and threw off the covers. Brave actions that didn’t quite still the tremor up and down her spine. She slid off the bed and walked through the doorway ahead of him to prove to them both she was not afraid. A mistake. As she passed through the connecting chamber, she felt his eyes on her. The white shift she wore wasn’t transparent, but the soft material clung and her state of undress made her feel vulnerable and almost naked. By the time she reached his chamber, she was too relieved to slip beneath the bedcovers to spare a moment on hesitation.
Her fingers gripped the top of the cover, holding it beneath her chin as she watched him douse the candles. Her grip relaxed slightly and she stretched her legs out in front of her.
This is how I planned it, exactly how I wanted it.
Except for the soft glow of embers in the hearth that played shadows around Arran’s movements. When she realised he was removing his breeches, she snapped her eyes shut and held her breath. Her heart thumped so loudly, she wondered if he could hear.
The bed shifted with his weight and her breath escaped on a gasp.
A moment later Arran’s arm slipped between her neck and the pillow and his palm cupped around her shoulder. “You have naught to be afraid of, Bree. I promised I’d never hurt you and I willna take my pleasure until I’m sure of yours.”
The honey rumble of his voice rather than the words soothed the wild thumping of her heart. Before Breghan’s mind could register just what he’d said and promised, he rolled her over so she was tucked into the crook of his arm and half on top of him. Her cheek rested on his shoulder, her hand splayed across his chest. The roll that had taken her by surprise left her with one leg flung over his, her thigh pressed against the hollow of his hipbone and her foot arched over the upper part of his shin.
His arm curled all the way around her back, his hand resting mere inches below the swell of her breast. The thin cotton of her shift was no protection from the hard contours of his body, nor the heat emanating between them.
She felt his lips pressed to her hair for a long moment, then he pulled away and said, “Good night, sweeting.”
Breghan lay absolutely still, her muscles stiff and her bones rigid.
Good night, sweeting? He truly brought me here only to sleep?
She lay there until the rhythm of his breathing changed, until the rise and fall of his chest slowed, until a cramped pain shot up her thigh. When she opened her eyes, she saw his head was turned from her, his hair brushed off his cheek, his jaw darkened by shadows gathering in the dales but far less harsh in sleep.
She stretched the tension from her legs, slowly, carefully, afraid he’d stir and wake.
Every sense within her absorbed the man she was sprawled upon. His heart beat against her breast, a faint yet steady rhythm that seemed to become one with her until she heard the double beat inside her ear. She inhaled his scent with every breath, could almost taste forest pine tinged with a saltiness that was pure male.
How can he sleep through this?
She flexed her fingers, unintentionally exploring the unfamiliar texture of coarse hair over smooth skin and amazed to find the sensation both pleasing and calming. As her fingers threaded through the short hairs, scraping hot flesh and pausing to twirl curls at random, her eyelids grew heavy and her thoughts drifted into blackness.
Many hours later, Breghan woke to an empty bed and a host of unsettled feelings about the man she’d shared it with.
Chapter Ten
The additional maid Arran had engaged arrived shortly after breakfast. She looked to be about fifteen, a slim girl with frizzy brown hair that couldn’t quite be controlled by its braid. Breghan had already decided the washing of her undergarments was a small enough task to add to Greer’s duties, but she had no intention of sending the new girl away. The McAllen villagers depended on the extra coin and necessities exchanged for service and she imagined the economies of the Kerr crofters were little different.
“Bryan said your name is Annie,” Breghan greeted, giving the girl a warm smile. “You’ll be coming in every morning?”
“Yes, me lady.” Annie slid a searching gaze across the hall, brows scrunching as she peered into every dark nook and corner.
“If you come in earlier, you may take breakfast with us.” Breghan gestured for the girl to follow. “Gardie, he’s our cook, keeps an excellent vegetable garden but yesterday I noticed the herb—” She winced as a loud clash came from the direction of the kitchen.
Annie’s reaction was more dramatic. She crumpled to her knees with her arms flung over her head.
Breghan immediately dropped beside the girl and gently pried her arms loose. “Annie, everything’s fine. That was only Gardie in the kitchen.”
Annie squeezed one eye open. “Sorry, me lady, I thought it was the laird.”
Thinking of the morning Arran had marched through Donague’s hall with his makeshift gong, Breghan laughed. “The laird is currently away and will be for the foreseeable future.”