by Eliza Knight
Inside the castle, they found Isobel easily enough. Her mischievous gaze shifted between them, but she didn’t say anything about the fact they were both soaked and slightly disheveled. Eva knew how it looked, and really, what was there to deny? If anyone had come upon them in the garden, they would have seen exactly what they were all thinking anyway.
And she was not ashamed. Which of course, made her feel guilty. She should be ashamed for having acted like a wanton with no morals twice in one day.
Nay, she wasn’t ashamed at all. In fact, she was smiling. Broadly. And a side glance at Strath showed he looked the same. For the past several days, every time she’d peeked at Strath, she’d wanted to be wanton. She wanted to forget her morals. Wanted him to kiss her. Touch her. Wanted to find out what would happen if she pushed him just a little bit more.
Good God, who in the world had she become?
This was wrong. They shouldn’t. Couldn’t. And yet, she had no desire to put an end to whatever it was that was developing between them.
Ever since she’d met Strath, she’d felt more alive, more like herself than ever before.
And if she was being true to herself, how could that be wrong?
How could he simply let her go?
They headed toward the stairs, Isobel’s arm linked in hers and Strath following behind. When they reached the foot of the winding staircase, Isobel turned around, and Eva followed her gaze.
“I’ll take it from here.” Isobel gave her cousin a knowing look.
“Aye, right.” Strath stammered, raising his hand in an awkward wave and backing up a step. “I’ll see ye at supper then, my ladies.”
Eva boldly met his gaze, despite the heat in her cheeks. “Thank you for helping me find the kitten.”
“’Twas most certainly my pleasure.” He bowed slightly and winked at her, a wicked grin flashing her way.
Oh, a pleasure indeed…
Heaven help her from being a wicked fool.
Chapter Twelve
The men gathered in the barracks, sharpening their weapons and drying their feet by the braziers. The rain had sent miniature rivers of mud rushing through the bailey, and walking the wall had left all of their boots thoroughly sodden.
Thankfully, hours after Strath had been in the garden with Eva, the rain had stopped, though the sun had yet to emerge from behind the clouds.
The warriors passed around jugs of whisky and ate hunks of roasted meat and bread.
Strath joined them for a while but refrained from eating as he planned to take his meal with his family and Eva. Tomaidh, too, would join them inside. He’d invited the men to join him, but they had their evening ritual down and wanted to stick to it. In fact, they’d even invited Jamie’s men to join them, so the barracks were now even more crowded than before.
After their hard ride to England, the battle at Northwyck, and the journey back to Scotland, the men deserved a bit of respite and entertainment. Besides that, soon there would be another battle. And men in high spirits fought harder than those who were downtrodden.
Nodding to his men, he slipped out to the stables to visit Beast, wanting to brush the horse himself, and do some thinking. In just a short time he’d have to make a choice. Present Eva to the king and walk away, or ask the king for permission to keep her. To wed her...
Wee Duff was in the stables too, tending to his mount. He nodded to Strath as he approached.
“Wee Duff. Did ye get some meat?” Strath took hold of a brush and stroked it over his warhorse.
“Aye.” The warrior was unusually terse and didn’t meet his gaze.
“Something bothering ye?” Strath asked Duff.
Beast turned to nibble his thanks at Strath’s shoulder as he continued to brush him down.
“Aye.” Still Wee Duff did not meet his gaze.
“Tell me.” Strath leaned against the stall, running the brush over his mount’s flank.
“I saw ye in the gardens. With the lass.” His tone was accusatory.
Strath stiffened for just half a breath and then continued brushing. “And?” Strath didn’t keep his irritation from his voice. He didn’t approve of his men spying, any more than he approved of them questioning his motives and actions.
“What are your intentions with her?”
“Is that any of your business?” Strath asked, feeling his nerves prickle.
This time, Wee Duff did look up from what he was doing, and anger blazed in his eyes so abundantly that Strath nearly took a step back.
“Aye. Ye’ve not told your uncle or his men the whole truth—that she is your prisoner. And now I see ye mauling her against a shed like she was a common whore and ye nothing more than stable hand.”
“Dinna call her a whore. And I was not mauling her.” Strath bristled, flexing his fingers. Beast, sensing his irritation, flicked his ears and tail.
Duff jammed the brush he was using back into a bucket. “Whatever ye might call it. But it was not a friendly kiss. Nor was it playful. Ye wanted to—”
“I’ll caution ye not to finish that thought.” Strath straightened up now, setting his own brush aside. He was so close to putting his fist through Wee Duff’s nose.
“Noted,” Duff said, sniffing with arrogance. “I want to know what your intentions are.”
Strath narrowed his eyes. Was he truly having this conversation? “I dinna have to answer to ye.”
“I think ye do.” Duff was serious, accusation dripping from every word. “We all know what happened the last time ye let your guard down with a woman.”
“This is not the same.” Strath took a step toward Duff, wanting to shake the bastard for even attempting to compare the two situations. “Jean and Eva are two different people.”
How could Duff even begin to compare the two? Jean was a scheming wench who’d tried to pass off another man’s child as his own and then riled up her father enough to have him attack. Eva was a victim in her own home and would never harm anyone, let alone plot to have her father come and attack them. The lass had given herself over to them, not knowing what could happen to her, putting her life completely in his hands. When had Jean Guinn ever done anything for anyone without benefit to herself?
“Ye believe ’tis not the same, but I dinna see it that way, and neither will the men when I tell them.” Duff puffed out his chest. “Her father is on the march, coming north, and ye think ye’ve got him pegged as weaker than Belfinch. What if that’s not true?”
Rather than the heat of fury, a coldness gripped Strath at the base of his neck. Duff was treading in dangerous territory. “Are ye questioning my authority? My judgment?”
Duff blew out an angry breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m questioning whether or not we’re about to go into battle for the right reasons.”
“Did ye see those burned villages? Would ye say that was the right reason? Or ’haps ye want to take it up with our king, who ordered us into England in the first place. Because if ye question my reasons for doing so, then ye must also question our king.”
Duff paled a little at that. “I dinna question the king.”
“Then dinna question me. I am your laird. And I’ll not hesitate to have ye whipped for disobedience.”
Duff clenched his hands at his sides. “I dinna want to see another wench bring ye down low. Ye’ll not survive it the next time.”
Strath narrowed his eyes. “Ye let me worry about the lass. And ye keep your nose to your own business. Follow my orders, or take yourself somewhere I willna be able to find ye.”
Duff glowered at him for a few breaths before finally grumbling something inaudible and storming out of the stable.
Strath muttered an oath and kicked at a wooden post in the center of the barn, feeling the ricochet of it all the way up his leg.
What the bloody hell was that all about? Duff accusing him of not putting the clan first? Fury raced through Strath’s veins. By breaking the handfast with Jean he had been thinking of the clan. It would have been
a detriment to them all had he married a woman without morals who lied and schemed. How could Duff see it any other way?
“Dammit!” He kicked the post again. Hit it with his fist. Was ready to shake it hard enough to yank it out of place and cause the whole stable to collapse in on him.
The worst part was that if Duff was thinking this, other warriors might question him, too. He shouldn’t have to prove to them he had their best interests at heart—because it was a fact.
Strath was first and foremost their laird, their protector, their leader, and all that came with that duty. He was also a loyal vassal to his king. He was not distracted by Lady Eva. All right, perhaps he was a little distracted by her, but not enough to shirk his duties. Not enough to put his men at risk.
Maybe he shouldn’t go inside for supper. Perhaps remaining out of the castle and away from her was the best way to prove to his men he wasn’t distracted.
It was frustrating that he even had to deal with this. Before Jean, no one had cared who he kissed. Who he rutted. In fact, his men would often pound their hands against his back in congratulations for his conquests. Was Jean’s treachery, her father’s betrayal, forever a stain on his reputation?
“Damn ye, Guinn,” he growled.
“Who is Guinn?”
Strath jerked around to see Eva standing in the opening of the stables, eyes wide as she flicked her gaze from him to the post and back again. A plaid cloak was wrapped around her shoulders, and she pushed the hood back to reveal tiny golden curls framing her face, a hazard of the wet air, he assumed. A tiny smile jerked at her lips.
Strath pulled away from the post, his arms falling useless at his sides. The wrath drained from him as soon as he saw her.
“Are ye sneaking about, my lady?”
“Well, you might have heard me if you weren’t so busy attacking that post. What did it ever do to you?” Her tone was teasing and lighthearted, and it was hard not to smile at her.
“I fear ye’ve caught me in a fit of temper.”
“Don’t be shy on my account.”
“What are ye doing out here?”
“I went to check on the kittens now that the storm has calmed and decided to walk about the perimeter of the bailey.”
“’Tis too muddy for a lass to traipse about.”
“They’ve laid out hay.” She eyed him for a moment longer. “Your warrior, Wee Duff, said you were looking for me.”
Strath scowled. That bastard. When Duff had left him, Strath had wrongfully assumed he was going to let it go, follow orders as he should. How wrong he’d been to make that assumption. It would appear that Duff was more interested in causing trouble than peace, which Strath should not be surprised about at all.
“I wasna.” He straightened. If Duff had sent her here, no doubt the whelp was going to try to send someone else, perhaps hoping to find them in a compromising position. By doing so, Duff had tossed down his gauntlet, challenging his laird, and he would have to be punished for it. The sooner Strath laid this bit of trouble to rest, the better. “Ye should go back inside, my lady.”
“Why?” She cocked her head and studied him. “Are you not going to tell me about Guinn?”
“Nay, Princess. Go back inside, please.” He added the last part in hopes she would understand how very serious he was.
He’d hoped wrong. She crossed her arms over her chest, standing rigid in place. “Why not?”
She wanted to question him, too? Strath gritted his teeth. Dammit, he didn’t want to fight with her. He tried to remain calm and leveled her with a serious gaze. “I’ve ordered ye to go back inside.”
Eva humphed and tapped her foot, clearly not backing down “Am I to be your prisoner now for all to see? Is this where it changes?”
“Nay. But Guinn is none of your concern.”
“None of my business, maybe, but it is my concern.”
Strath ran a hand through his hair; the lass would not budge, and short of tossing her over his shoulder, there didn’t seem to be another way of getting her out of here. “Ye’re trying to bait me.”
“Maybe.”
“Why?”
“I’m curious.” She shrugged. “I’ve not much to do beyond walking about and spying on angry warriors. Indulge me.”
Strath groaned on the inside. She was baiting him for…entertainment? “What about the kittens?”
“They were snuggled up sleeping with their mother. I left a bowl of cream, but I fear they are not as intrigued with me as I am with them.”
“That is a shame. Ye’re a fascinating woman.” Perhaps changing the subject and flattering her would be enough to get her to go inside.
Eva laughed at that. “Flattery will not distract me, warrior. So, tell me. What could it hurt? Who is this Guinn?”
Strath let out a breath that bordered on a growl. Maybe if he told her, she’d listen and go back inside. “Guinn is the chief of the clan just north of my father’s holding in Sutherland.”
“And what has he done to make you so mad? Is he here?”
“Nay, he isna. ’Tis a long story. Dinna make me toss ye over my shoulder and carry ye inside, lass.”
Her mouth fell open in mock outrage. “What would your aunt think if she were to see such a thing?” She winked, knowing she’d gotten the better of him. “Do you think it will take you longer to tell me than it will take for Belfinch to finally arrive?”
He frowned. “Nay.”
“Then it is not that long of a story.”
“Ye’re right.” He walked over to a bench along the wall, sat down, and patted the seat beside him. Across from them, tack and saddles and other staples were hung on the wall.
Eva sat down, thankfully with enough space that they weren’t touching. Then he thought the better of it. If Duff’s plan was to find them alone together, best they not give him any fodder, even if it was just the two of them sitting beside each other.
Strath stood and held out his hand, which she took without hesitation. He helped her up and then dropped her hand again, though he desired to bring it to his lips. “Let us take a turn about the bailey. The air in here is stifling.”
She regarded him with eyes partially squinted, probably trying to read deeper into what he meant, but he moved toward the door, opening it to the cloudy afternoon sky. The rain had stopped, and the brisk wind blowing made it a bit chilly. Eva pulled her hood back up, shivering as she stepped out beside him.
“We could go inside if ye’re too cold,” he said.
“Nay, it is good to get some fresh air.”
Their boots sloshed in a few unavoidable puddles. The grass in the bailey was patchy in places, and straw had been laid out to soak up some of the rainwater, but all the same, mud was unavoidable. Eva lifted the hem of her slightly too-long gown as they walked over puddles and then let it back down to cover her boots.
“Well, are you going to tell me or make me guess?” she asked.
Strath chuckled. “I was hoping ye’d forgotten.”
“I love a good story, and yours has already left me in anticipation. What could possibly have the great and mighty Strath pounding his fists and boots on a poor defenseless stable post?” She laughed softly, and he wanted to gather her up in his arms, tickle her, and kiss that laughter away.
Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Och, but now I fear ye’ll be disappointed.”
“Try me.” She spoke softly, passing him a conspiratorial grin.
He was comfortable around her. Outside of his family and Tomaidh, he’d never felt this way about anyone before. Jean had not even come close, and neither had any of the other women he’d been in a relationship with. What was it about Eva? Her disarming smile? The genuineness about her? The fact he didn’t feel as though she’d judge him? Whatever it was, she made him forget all the vows he’d just made to stay away from her.
“’Tis no secret I was betrothed to Guinn’s daughter, and the two of them betrayed me.”
“Ah, so this is why you did
not wish to speak about her when we dined.”
He slanted a glance at her, recalling how his family had made mention of his betrothal at dinner several times, and each time, he’d skirted around it. “Ye picked up on that, aye?”
“How could I not?”
He grinned and glanced across the bailey to see a few of his men had come out of the barracks with Duff. They started to head toward the stables. Strath stopped in his tracks, and Eva stopped, too. The men had yet to spot the two of them. It would appear that exactly what he’d thought would happen was coming to pass.
“Do ye trust me, lass?”
“Aye,” she said without hesitation.
“Good. I’m going to point toward the castle, and I want ye to look, as though ye’re concerned. I’ll have on a stern face.”
“What?” She frowned, and he hated what he was doing.
He jabbed his finger toward the castle, his face a mask of irritation he did feel, but not toward her. “Duff saw us in the gardens. He sent ye to the stables in hopes of catching us at something. He’s now brought a few of my men in hopes of finding us in a compromising position as well. He worries I’ve been distracted from my mission.”
“Oh.” Dutifully, Eva looked toward the castle and then back at him, screwing up her face into one of concern.
“The men? Are they…worried?” she asked.
“Nay. But Duff likes to cause trouble. He believes… Och.” He muttered a curse under his breath. “I’m going to take ye by the elbow and lead ye inside. They are watching us.”
“All right.” She nodded and cast her gaze toward the ground. “I will look dutifully upset.”
“My thanks.” He took her elbow gently and led her inside. “I will owe ye a favor for this.”
She exaggerated tripping as he did so, and then had to hide her face in her hood to keep her smile from showing. “And another favor for that.”
Once inside, she burst out laughing. He couldn’t help but smile, not at the situation, but at her. He wanted to pummel Duff, and he knew he’d have to make his punishment public.
