Despite having met the men her father deemed ‘worthy’, those meetings had taken place years ago, when she’d been too young to even think of marriage. She couldn’t remember what each of them looked like. Didn’t know their ages, or what turns their lives had taken up until now.
She didn’t know them.
Each one of them was almost as much a stranger to her as Duff from the Borders.
A dark-haired stranger who needed a place to sleep for just one night.
She’d never expect her father to share his chamber on the floor above and she doubted his guest of honour would feel honoured if she dared to place him in the basement’s dungeons, though the idea did hold merit. No, here it must be. But it was only for a single night. And considering how impressed her father was with Duff’s sword skills, and with the last minute preparations she needed to complete, she doubted she’d have to spend much time in his company.
She rested her chin upon the pillow and lowered her lashes. The image of dark searching eyes filled the black void. Eyes that looked too closely. Eyes that saw too much.
Did his penetrating gaze see through her rigid composure to the yearnings she fought to hide? The unfamiliar yearnings she suffered when she’d clutched his shoulders as he’d lifted her from her horse. The foolish urge to pull him closer so she could feel his arms about her once more had been so powerful she’d almost given in. A rush of warmth flooded her cheeks. Why did he have such an effect on her?
He’d known she wanted him to decline her father’s invitation to stay. She’d seen the restrained mirth playing about his mouth when he’d accepted. She opened her eyes. He wasn’t worth the time she was wasting thinking about him.
A footfall scuffed the wooden floor outside the room.
Mairi shot to her feet and spun about just as the door opened.
She kept her back to the entrance and fluffed life back into the crushed pillow. ‘Place the basin on the small table beside the towels, Rhona,’ Mairi said to her maid. ‘You may go about your usual chores. I’ll finish up here.’
‘Aye, mistress.’
Leaning forward, Mairi placed the pillow with the other two she’d arranged at the head of the bed, as the sound of Rhona’s footsteps faded. Just as Mairi wondered how wide-shouldered Duff might fit on the narrow mattress, the hairs at her nape quivered in warning.
Someone watched her.
She stiffened, slowly straightened and turned.
The man responsible for occupying far too many of her thoughts stood on the threshold, his shoulders almost spanning the width of the doorway, his intense look fixed on her.
Mairi’s fingers twitched, suddenly desperate to again take hold of the pillow and create a physical barrier between them.
She smoothed her fingers down her skirts to steady them. She could not show any weakness or appear flustered in any way. She would not.
‘You found your room.’
‘Rhona kindly showed me the way.’
His reply shivered down her spine, shaking her resolve to appear unperturbed. She pressed her palms against her thighs to stop her fingers from clutching her skirts.
‘‘Tis small, but I’m sure you’ll find everything you need for your short stay. If not, you’ve but to ask.’ There. She sounded calm and confident.
He took a single step inside and looked about the chamber.
The room seemed to shrink in size with him barely in it. Mairi forced herself to hold her ground and not take a step back. His scent of man and leather and refreshing pine filled her next breath.
‘The room is unnecessary, but greatly appreciated.’
Mairi studied his expression as he appraised the chamber’s scant contents. From the ancient, scarred, timber table to the unmatched stool and on to the narrow bed he’d sleep in this night. As well as being the last chamber available, which really was more of a storeroom, all the better furniture had been used for the guest partitions below. But no look of distaste showed on his face. His expression remained … appreciative. Was his simple appreciation true, or was he a master at hiding his displeasure?
It didn’t matter. She’d done her duty and prepared him a room.
She watched his eyes travel her length, from head to toe and back again. It was as if his gaze were parched and she the means to quench its thirst. A shiver threatened. Determination beat the tremor back. She stood straight and tall, determined not to let him see how much his heated look dried her mouth and disturbed her balance.
How long she’d been staring at him, while he’d studied her, she had no clue. She couldn’t deny she liked what she saw and while his attention unsettled her, it awakened something new. Something exciting.
Something forbidden.
She needed to leave. If only he’d step aside so she could slip out the door without the need to squeeze past him in the small space. The thought of her skin brushing against his sent colour flooding her cheeks. Dear God. Her thoughts had turned treacherous. She’d obviously shared the same air with him for too long.
But he did not move. Simply continued watching her. Why did he stare? What did he see? If only she were brave enough to ask. The woman in her wanted to know. Desperately. Tiny beads of sweat formed between her breasts. The dutiful daughter and heir commanded she leave. Now.
‘I have other duties to see to.’ She forced one foot to take a step. The other thankfully followed. Three more steps and she’d be in front of him. Her fingers clenched within her skirts. Two more steps. His dark eyes, darkened.
One step.
His large body shifted to the side. Mairi sailed passed him and foolishly inhaled. His scent captured her senses. His heat tickled her skin and his softly spoken, ‘My thanks,’ as she moved on out the door, almost made her stumble.
Just one night.
The thought aided her balance. She marched to the head of the stairwell, lifted her skirts with cramped fingers and swept down the steps to the next level, then the next.
Before she knew where she was or what she was about, she released the breath she’d been holding as her father greeted her.
‘Is all well, Daughter?’
It was only then Mairi realised she’d ended up in the Great Hall instead of the sanctuary of her own room. She drew a much-needed breath and looked at her sire. She couldn’t very well admit to her father that due to his honoured guest she’d lost all sense of direction. A second visit to her secret glade was called for, for there she could regain her control.
‘Aye. I’m simply informing Cook we’ve an extra for the noon meal.’ She’d secret away while her father entertained his guest during the meal.
‘I trust our guest is comfortable with his room?’
‘Aye, Father. He spoke to me of his appreciation only a moment ago.’
‘Good. I look forward to sharing the meal with him at noon,’ he said, turning away. He’d only taken two steps when he stopped and turned around. ‘I expect you to be there also.’
‘Of course.’ Her expected response flowed naturally from her lips, even as her hopes for an escape were dashed. She waited until her father left the hall through the main entrance that led outside, then she turned and headed for the kitchen.
Without the distraction of either a sword fight or tending the wounded, sharing a meal with Duff and appearing unaffected by his presence, while her father looked on, was going to be difficult.
If she were truly blessed, dark-eyed Duff from the Borders would leave before the noon bell rang.
Chapter Four
Duff descended the stairwell into the Great Hall as the echo of the noon bell faded. He stood in the shadows, noting the changes that had taken place in the vast chamber while he’d washed and scraped the whiskers from his jaw.
Three rows of trestles with long benches on either side ran the length of the hall. The laird’s table, slightly raised and running crossways in the opposite direction to the others, sat at the top end of the room, high-backed chairs, waiting. Empty.
Much like th
e future stretching out before him.
The future of a man who didn’t know his own name. He hoped to God Dair and Cal had fared better in their own quests. Surely one of them deserved to find out who they were.
With a sense of hollowness crowding his chest, Duff looked about the lively chamber. The bustling mob made him feel like the stranger he was, a stranger among many. He searched for his absent host, but instead found the laird’s intriguing, golden-haired daughter.
Mairi.
The lilt of her name, even in thought, diminished the gaping void in his chest. Just seeing her sent his blood pumping more swiftly through his veins.
While he’d splashed the dust and sweat from his body, he’d tried to convince himself his interest in Mairi Gordon proved he’d been without a woman for far too long. But he didn’t make a habit of lying, not usually, and never to himself.
She had the most flawless skin he’d ever seen. The creamy smooth turn of her cheek called for a soft touch with the backs of his fingers. Her long slender throat beckoned for him to press his lips against her pulse and spread a trail of kisses to the underside of her delicate jaw.
But it was her eyes that lured him. Even when she was out of sight.
Haunted eyes. Devastating blue eyes that seemed to warn him away, yet begged him to stay.
What demons lurked in the shadows of Mairi’s life? He wanted to slay them all.
Where was the seven-foot husband she’d threatened him with? Duff hadn’t seen or heard even a whisper about the man she’d stated would tear him apart with his bare hands. Did the man even exist? Duff didn’t think so.
Anticipation sparked in his chest like flint on parchment. He stepped toward the light.
Looking at her, thinking of her, lessened the sense of loneliness he suffered when he thought of his future. A future with a woman like her in it would make him feel whole.
Fool! She is a laird’s daughter and you are no one.
She’d called him such herself, without knowing the truth of his circumstances. Were his unknown origins so obvious? Was he destined to always be alone?
The void of emptiness again expanded inside his chest. He shrank back into the shadows.
Mairi Gordon wasn’t for him. She might inspire thoughts of soft touches and carefully placed kisses, but being guest of honour beneath her father’s roof changed nothing. He was still a man without a name. Still no one.
His gaze swept to the hall’s exit. The urge to walk to the door and leave was strong. None knew him. Few knew of him. No one would stop him. Perhaps he should have listened to his gut and ridden south this morning. But his honour would never have let him ride on when the attackers had outnumbered the innocent party of travellers.
He looked once more at the duty-minded woman he’d caught and who’d since captured his attention. She appeared deep in conversation with Douglas, Gordon’s steward. Did her life amount to nothing but duty? What matter did they discuss that caused her to wear such a serious expression?
Several times now he’d heard mention of guests arriving the morn. He’d sensed the buzz of suppressed excitement since he’d entered the Great Tower and the servants hadn’t stopped hurrying here and there, ensuring whatever tasks they’d been given were done.
Douglas left and despite Duff standing in the shadows, Mairi’s eyes immediately centred on him. How long had she known he was there?
She turned and looked toward the hall’s entrance and then about the room, as if searching for someone. By the way her plump, pink lips flattened, whoever she was hoping to see wasn’t present.
Her gaze once more settled on Duff, the line of her lips softening, as if she were resigned to a certain fate. Or was she preparing to deliver another insult?
The latter, Duff decided, for she lifted her skirts, clenched her hands and headed directly for him.
***
Mairi silently cursed the cause of her frustration as she marched toward him. Poor Douglas had had to repeat himself thrice before she’d responded coherently. One glimpse of Duff, half hidden in shadow, with his dampened hair and smooth, stubble-free jaw had her curling her twitching fingers into fists, even now.
God take pity on her when she gained a clear view of him. And she still had the noon meal to get through.
Where was her father?
She glanced about the hall again, praying he’d appear and save her from having to speak with Duff on her own. She’d already waited longer than was polite to approach him, despite knowing he stood alone.
She neared Duff and stopped when only the shadows separated them. ‘Is it your usual habit to hover in darkness at the base of stairwells?’
He took a small step forward, but thankfully avoided the patch of midday light spilling in through the high, narrow window on the opposite wall. ‘I am a stranger in your hall, Mistress Gordon. Your father isn’t here and you were occupied.’ The refreshing smell of pine drifted across the small space between them.
For a stranger he smelled too good and was ever-polite. ‘You were a stranger this morn, yet it didn’t stop you from joining the fight.’ He no doubt had ached to cut someone down with his sword. She withheld a shudder.
His deep, brown gaze captured hers. ‘True, but there was nae time for pleasantries this morning. More men might have been wounded or died had I waited for an invitation.’
She stared into the rich, earthy depths of his eyes, struggling to break free even as she cursed his fine manners and sensible answers. Guilt prickled her conscience for not greeting him sooner.
Duty was everything. It would save her now.
‘My father is a busy man.’ She looked in the direction of the laird’s table. ‘Allow me to escort you to your seat. Father will be along—’
‘I am here, now,’ her father stated from close behind. ‘Forgive my delay, Duff. I’m certain my daughter has been the consummate hostess in my absence?’
Mairi stiffened and waited for Duff’s response. Consummate hostess? She’d left him waiting then accused him of lurking, among other things.
‘You are blessed to have such a capable daughter to stand in your stead, Laird Gordon.’
Mairi stared at Duff.
‘Aye.’ She felt her father’s eyes on her. ‘Mairi knows her duty and is ever obedient. Come,’ her father continued turning to Duff. ‘The noon meal is about to be served.’
Mairi watched as her father led his guest to the table. Why hadn’t Duff mentioned she’d left him waiting? Why did he protect her? What did he hope to gain?
No stranger risked their life for another unless there was a prize to be had. No stranger defended another without expecting a reward. She glanced at her father. She’d noticed a recent decline in his health, even though he tried to keep it from her and from everyone else. All the more reason she needed to ease his burdens by taking on extra duties and ensuring she completed her own without question. Her father was all the family she had left. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, too.
And now her father had been blinded by a stranger’s skill with a sword and was grinning like a lad. Such a rare sight. Her heart squeezed for him. He’d lost so much that long-ago day. Because of her. It was up to her to keep a close watch over their honoured guest, despite how much she wanted to escape him and needed him gone.
Lifting her skirts, she marched toward where Douglas stood waiting for her signal. She gave him a slight nod, smoothly changed direction and headed for her seat.
Determination to succeed grew and swelled. She owed it to her father.
Duff’s deep brown eyes settled on her as she approached and studied her as she neared. The fabric of her woollen gown seemed to shrink and tighten over her breasts and her hips.
Sweet God. Never had she noticed a man’s gaze upon her. Never had she enjoyed it. Never had she been so aware of being alive within her own skin.
Her father spoke. Duff turned away to reply.
Mairi drew an uneven breath.
She needed to master he
r reactions where Duff was concerned. He was only here for a day and a night. She needed to watch him and ignore him at the same time.
She neared her seat.
Duff stood and offered her a bow.
Was he attempting to impress her father? Or her?
Feminine heat rushed to her cheeks at the thought.
Stop!
Self-annoyance welled, giving her something to focus on other than how Duff made her feel.
Taking her seat allowed him to retake his. With much scraping of benches and voices raised in conversation, the Gordon clansmen, women and children took their places. The meal began.
Another welcome distraction.
Servants streamed from the kitchen bearing platters laden with thick slices of mutton drowning in a rich, dark sauce and an assortment of greens dripping with butter. Warm, brown loaves rounded off the noon victuals and were the perfect remedy for soaking up any remaining juices. Delicious aromas permeated the air, inspiring many appreciative sighs.
Once they’d served the laird’s table, the servants moved on down the length of the hall. One could always tell when their duties were almost fulfilled, for there were a few moments when the banter mellowed as the food shovelled into hungry mouths prevented words escaping. But not for long. The cheerful buzz quickly resumed.
‘Again,’ her father said raising his goblet, ‘I thank you for your assistance this morn, Duff.’
Clan Gordon’s guest of honour lifted his wine. ‘I am pleased I was there to assist.’
Both men drank from their cups and Mairi sipped from hers.
‘Did you know the men who attacked you?’ Duff asked.
Mairi leaned forward as her father briefly looked at her. He then shook his head and swallowed before speaking. ‘Nae. I don’t know any of them. They could hail from anywhere and we hadn’t yet reached the safety of Gordon lands.’
Mairi shattered the next few moments of silence with the question that was burning her tongue. ‘Do you know the men who attacked my father?’
The Protector Page 4
