Susana and the Scot

by Sabrina York

  Seeing the two of them so close together, their nearly identical faces nose-to-nose, caused a pang in her chest.

  Papa believed Isobel needed a father and Susana had always insisted she did not, that no woman needed a man. But now, in this moment, she questioned her resolve. Had it been naught but a reflection of her own pain? Had she robbed her daughter of something precious?

  When the men saw her enter the room, they all stood, all but Papa, because his hip was paining him. He did, however, lift his glass to her.

  “Good evening,” she said.

  “Susana.” Keir bowed. “You look lovely.”

  Susana blinked. Keir had never made mention of her appearance, for good or ill. That he did so now, with a determined gleam in his eye, was surprising.

  “Verra lovely,” Hamish chimed in.

  “Aye,” a deep voice from the window rumbled. “Verra lovely.” She couldn’t stop her attention from swinging that way. Her gaze clashed with Andrew’s. His burned, lighting a flicker of desire in her womb. Though to be honest, it was still burning there, that ember he’d stoked this afternoon. Likely it wouldn’t take much to set it ablaze again.

  Hopefully not at the dinner table.

  A shiver shot through her and she turned away. “Thank you.”

  “Look, Mama!” Isobel chirped. “I’m learning chess.”

  Susana tried not to sigh. How many times had she attempted to interest her daughter in the game of strategy? She’d shown no interest whatsoever. Apparently Andrew’s allure knew no age limits.

  Isobel held up the horse. “This one is called a knight.” She waggled her brows in a meaningful manner.

  Susana grinned and sauntered nonchalantly to the window. Hopefully no one noticed her eagerness to stand by his side. To feel his warmth. To breathe his scent. “Ah. The knight. I assume that one is your favorite?”

  “Aye.” Isobel winked and galloped the knight over the board.

  “I prefer the queen, myself,” Andrew murmured. Hopefully, Susana was the only one who noticed the evocative way he fondled the piece. And his scorching expression. And the telling way his tongue dabbed his lips.

  Honestly, they needed no wetting whatsoever. They were quite tempting as they were.

  “Mama?”

  She blinked and ripped her gaze from Andrew’s. Surely she hadn’t been gaping at him? “Yes, darling?”

  “Did you know there’s a hole in the roof of the kennels?”

  “I … what?”

  Isobel nodded. “A huuuge hole.” She spread her arms wide apart to illustrate the hugeness of the hole.

  “Surely it is not that large.”

  “It is large enough,” Hamish chuckled from behind her, and Susana spun to face him. “Our billets are flooded.”

  She glanced at Andrew—why, she didn’t know—and he nodded with a chagrined expression. “Our pallets are soaked through.”

  “A pity that.” Hamish sighed in a decidedly melodramatic warble. “We loved those pallets.”

  She nibbled her lip. “Did you?”

  “Aye.”

  “Well, this is terrible news,” Papa boomed. Surely he didn’t need to boom. They were all in the same room. “We shall have to find some other place to house the men. What do you think, Susana?”

  She was used to this. Papa pretending to ask her advice when he really just wanted her to give him what he wanted. He’d been badgering her to move the men into the castle since they’d arrived. She couldn’t have, of course. It would have been tantamount to admitting defeat.

  But now …

  But now it didn’t feel like defeat at all. She and Andrew had decided to work together. It was only right that his men should be comfortable. In rooms with real beds. With an actual roof over their heads. A mocking voice in the back of her head added that if he were staying in the castle, he would be far more accessible. She ignored it.

  It made sense to move the men into the castle. But she had no intention of making her acquiescence easy … on any of them. It simply wasn’t in her nature to do so.

  She tapped her lip. “Aye, Papa. You are right. We canna allow those men to stay in ruined quarters.”

  Andrew and Hamish exchanged triumphant smiles, but to her right Keir bristled.

  “I believe we have a lovely space beneath the mill,” she said.

  Hamish eeped and Papa snorted, but Susana ignored them and continued on.

  “Aye, it’s filled with sacks of grain and supplies. But it shouldna take long to move them.” She sent Hamish a playful wink. “There are hardly any bugs.”

  “My lady. Please.” Hamish held out his hands. “Show mercy.”

  “There are some lovely hallways beneath the ramparts. Of course, the men will have to sleep head-to-toe, but they are valiant warriors, are they not? Used to such conditions? Oh, and for that matter, the orchard is lovely this time of year.” She flicked a look at Keir. “Do we not have some tents in the stores?”

  Keir nodded, with a determined expression on his face. Clearly her sarcasm had escaped him.

  Not so Andrew. It was evident from the glimmer in his eye, the reluctant twist of his lips, and the blossom of dimples in his cheeks, he knew she was only teasing.

  Isobel patted Andrew on the hand. “You can stay with me,” she whispered.

  Susana blanched. Dear lord. Enough teasing.

  She sighed heavily. “Ah, well. I suppose the east wing would be the best place for them.”

  Papa, clearly relieved, grunted.

  “I shall see to it … after dinner.”

  Keir leaped to his feet, his brow drawn tight. “My lady?”

  “Aye, Keir,” she said with a smile to soften his disgruntlement. It didn’t help. “If we are to work fist in glove with these men, it is best if they are well rested.”

  “And dry,” Hamish murmured in an aside.

  And when Andrew added, in a whisper, “In a secluded bower…” a shudder racked her. She shot him a reproachful glare, but then ruined it with a smile.

  Tamhas entered the room and announced that dinner was served, and they all headed for the dining room. As she made her way down the hall, Isobel threaded her fingers in Susana’s. She peeped up and, eyes wide with innocence, asked, “Mama, what’s a secluded bower?”

  * * *

  It was an excellent start to the evening.

  Not only was Andrew able to see Susana again, and flirt with her quite subtly, she had relented on the matter of their ghastly lodgings. He was very happy for his men’s sake, but truth be told, he was happier for himself.

  Now he would be near her. Possibly just down a hallway.

  That meant—possibly—a full night in her arms. Maybe many.

  For the first time since his exile here, he was truly delighted with his fate.

  What were the odds? He’d come here empty-hearted and discouraged. He’d been sure he would never find that feeling he ached for. And now, not only had he found a woman who ignited his soul, she shared in his desire for an exploration between them. With this move from the kennels, the opportunities for seduction were boundless.

  As she took her seat on Magnus’s right, he sat across from her. He couldn’t help but notice Keir’s frown. No doubt he thought this seat his spot. Andrew didn’t care. He wanted to sit across from Susana, so he could stare at her all evening.

  It only irritated him a little that, with a huff, Keir took the spot by her side.

  Isobel slid into the seat beside him. She peered up at him and fluttered her lashes. Something uncomfortable curled through him. She was a beautiful girl, though something of a termagant. And she’d taken a liking to him. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, but he knew if he wanted to make headway with Susana, a good relationship with her daughter couldn’t hurt.

  Hamish, faced with the choice of sitting beside Keir or Isobel, chose the latter.

  As he settled in and the footman approached with the wine, something nudged his foot. He glanced across the table at Susana
and she sent him an innocent look. Behind that look, though, there was a wicked intent. His pulse leaped.

  The minx! Was she teasing him beneath the table?

  Indeed, her toe, her luscious—from what he could gather, bare—toe, crawled up his ankle. A quiver rippled through him at the light in her eye, the way her lips quirked in a challenging way. He kicked off his shoe and reciprocated. He loved the way her features softened as he made his way up her calf, beneath her skirts.

  It was damn annoying that the table was too wide for him to reach past her knee. He probably could, if he slouched, but he didn’t dare.

  As they made their way through the first course, he played with her, stroked her, and she did the same, causing a cauldron of lust to boil within him. Damn, she was a tantalizing piece of froth.

  Conversation flowed around them, a desultory discussion of the weather and the crops and the recent influx of herring. Or something like that. Andrew was hardly paying attention.

  All the while, Isobel, between bites, stared at him. He tried to ignore her as well, but it was far more difficult.

  “I doona like soup,” she announced, apropos of nothing. Andrew could only ascertain that she’d been feeling left out of the conversation. She peeped at him. “Do you?”

  With a glance at Susana, he removed his foot, which had been dancing over her delightful instep. As much as he was enjoying their play, it just didn’t seem right to continue … while he was discussing the merits of soup with her daughter. That Susana put out a lip at his retreat was gratifying.

  “I do like soup. I suppose.” He took a spoonful to illustrate his point.

  Isobel wrinkled her nose. “It seems so pointless.”

  “Pointless?”

  She leaned closer and whispered, “It’s mostly broth.”

  “It’s verra healthy,” Susana suggested.

  “I’d much rather have cake.”

  “I’d much rather have cake as well,” Hamish confided, although this was hardly a secret. He’d recently made friends with the castle baker, a lovely and plump morsel named Saundra who, apparently, reveled in the opportunity to provide him with … sweets.

  “Well, perhaps we can have dessert … after dinner.” Susana’s foot found his again, nudging him with an unmistakable intent. Andrew nearly came out of his chair.

  “I should verra much like dessert … after dinner,” he murmured, catching her gaze. Though he thought he was being subtle, he most likely was not because Hamish snorted, and Keir glared at him.

  Magnus simply took another sip of his whisky. “Of course there will be dessert after dinner,” he grumbled, motioning for a refill. “But since we have you all together, we should perhaps talk about your thoughts on our defenses?” He shot a meaningful look at Andrew.

  “Aye. Of course…” As the subsequent courses came and went, and everyone enjoyed a delicious repast—all but Isobel, who complained that each dish was not cake—Hamish and Andrew shared their observations on where the fortifications were lacking.

  As the litany continued—as they had found many weaknesses—Keir’s demeanor soured. Clearly the man felt Andrew’s critique was a criticism of his work. Andrew made every effort to compliment him where accolades were due, but it didn’t seem to help.

  Probably because there wasn’t much room for praise.

  Keir seemed to be an intelligent man, and seemed to have experience in this, so his errors and omissions were confounding.

  In fact, if he didn’t know for a fact that Keir was loyal to Susana—possibly enamored of her—Andrew would suspect he was deliberately trying to undermine their security.

  For her part, Susana listened to his arguments with an intent and increasingly concerned expression. When Andrew mentioned there were no men stationed in the tower, and no warning system in place in the event of attacks in the far-flung crofts, her considering gaze flicked to her captain of the guard. When he caught her studying him, he flushed and tightened his jaw.

  As Andrew and Hamish finished their report, Magnus sat back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the table. “I canna tell you how much we appreciate your assessment,” he said. “Although I do find it eye opening to realize how vulnerable we are.”

  “Aye.” Andrew nodded. They were, indeed vulnerable. “But Hamish and I have a slate of ideas, easily implemented, that will fix matters.”

  Susana leaned forward. “Please tell us more.”

  God, he loved that expression on her face, the gleam in her eye, the rapt focus of her attention—on him. It wasn’t sexual in any way. In fact, her playful mood had been replaced by her concern for her people.

  It didn’t matter.

  In fact, it pleased him that she wanted, needed something more from him than just kisses. It pleased him that he could offer her more of himself.

  As the mutton and beef courses were served, followed by a syllabub, he and Hamish outlined their plan. With each idea, Susana nodded. With each suggestion, Keir’s frown darkened, but the man said nothing.

  When he and Hamish finished sharing the last of it, Susana blew out a breath. She exchanged a look with her father. “It appears we have much work to do,” she said.

  “Aye.” Magnus nodded. “First thing tomorrow we should all meet again and finalize our plans.” He nodded at Andrew. “Your men are ready?”

  He grinned. “Aye. Even more so if they get a good night’s sleep.” He couldn’t resist a glance in Susana’s direction. He wasn’t sure if her flush stemmed from chagrin that she’d been trenchant in her resolve to keep his men from sleep, or if it was a shy confirmation that she intended to keep him from it tonight. In a secluded bower somewhere …

  He hoped for the latter.

  “Excellent,” Magnus huffed. “But first…” He gestured to Saundra, the plump baker, who entered with a platter of cakes. “Dessert.”

  “Ah…” Hamish murmured, his expression far too sultry for the dinner table. “Dessert.”

  Isobel slurped her lips. “Yum.”

  Saundra rounded the table, having the good sense to begin with Hamish, or possibly Isobel. As she leaned between them, displaying her bosom to his friend, Susana’s foot nudged him once more.

  Ah. Dessert. He smiled and nudged back, then snaked his toe up the back of her thigh. Even as he realized her leg was at the wrong angle, he also realized it was far too muscled.

  His attention whipped to Magnus to find the man gaping at him. His eyes narrowed—swung from Andrew to Susana and back again—and then he jerked his leg away.

  A red tide crept up Andrew’s neck as he realized he’d been playing footsie with his host.

  Magnus grumbled something beneath his breath about needing more whisky, and he turned away, but not before Andrew saw his pointed glance at Susana. In response she plastered an innocent mien on her face and folded her fingers on the table.

  When Saundra offered her a cake, she demurred. Gazing at him through veiled lashes, Susana murmured, “I think I’ll have dessert later … in my room.”

  Hopefully no one but Andrew caught her meaning.

  Hopefully no one noticed his flush.

  Hopefully no one realized his cock was hard and straining in his breeks.

  At the dinner table, of all places.

  * * *

  Anticipation sizzled through Susana as the meal ended and they all stood. She tried very hard not to glance at Andrew, not to stare, but damn, he was alluring, with that seductive look in his eye.

  She knew—knew—they would be together tonight, and the thought made her knees weak.

  It was frustrating that first she had to oversee the move of his men from the kennels into the east wing of the castle. Who knew how long that would take? She prickled with impatience.

  It was also frustrating that Keir caught her arm as she headed off to attend to this duty.

  “A word, my lady?” His tone was low, as though he didn’t want anyone to hear.

  “Aye?” She tried not to snap, but exasperation raile
d her. She knew he wasn’t pleased with the recent developments. He probably resented having outsiders come in and critique his work—and find it wanting. He’d certainly bristled with every suggestion the men had made.

  Granted, she had urged Keir to flout their mission, to delay and interfere wherever he could—and she felt the sting of remorse for that. It had been childish at best and foolish at worst. The gaps in their defenses Andrew and Hamish had outlined had horrified her.

  He nodded toward the study. “In private?”

  Susana sighed and glanced back at Andrew. He was chatting with Isobel and Papa. She sighed. “All right.”

  He led her into the study and when the door closed, he spun on her. “My lady, we canna allow them to take over the defenses.”

  “Keir—”

  “We doona know these men. You doona know these men. You canna trust them.”

  Her brow rumpled. “Dunnet sent them.”

  Keir leaned closer and whispered, “I’ve heard rumors.”

  “Such as?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Such as Dunnet is in league with Stafford. That he married Hannah with the sole purpose of gaining her lands … and then turning them over to the marquess.”

  Something cold clutched at her chest. The thought—that Hannah had married a man, was bound to a man, who would use her so, betray her heart—was sickening. But upon consideration, such a plot hardly made sense. “Whyever would he do that?”

  “There are rumors that Stafford is soon to be named the Duke of Sutherland.”

  Bile rose. “And?”

  “We all know the Duke of Caithness is weak. An absentee laird at best.” Aye. Their overlord had never even set foot in the Highlands, as far as Susana could tell. “Dunnet is working to undermine his hold on the county.”

  “How can a baron undermine the power of a duke?”

  “Inciting treason. A group of barons are working together to rally the parishes against the duke.”

  Her stomach tightened. If Dunnet did such a thing, he could be hanged. And then where would Hannah be? “How on earth would that benefit him?”

  “If he can succeed, if the barons of Caithness rise up against the duke, the Prince Regent will have to take note.”