by Mary Wine
“Ye intoxicate me, Deirdre.” His words were low and deep. At any other time she might have suspected he was mocking her, but she could hear the emotion turning his voice gruff. It touched her even as she was forced to recognize how much weakness she harbored for him.
“Release me, Quinton.”
He lifted his head and frowned at her, but his arms allowed her legs to lower. He remained in front of her, his hands cupping her face. “I do nae want to leave ye, for I can see the fight still flickering in yer eyes.”
Her legs quivered, but she forced herself to stand. “Would ye rather think me a slut who cannae resist a tumble whenever she spies a man who takes her fancy?”
He grunted and pressed a hard kiss against her lips. “I am the only man ye fancy, hellion.”
He moved away from her, returning to the table where his bonnet rested so that the feathers might not be crushed. He picked it up and settled it at an angle on his head. The large brooch that held the feathers was set with an emerald that twinkled in the morning light. It was a symbol of what he was, no mistake about it.
“Do nae look at me like that, Deirdre.”
She focused her attention on her overrobe and moved to pick it up.
“Like I used ye because I think myself yer better.”
She flinched, unable to dismiss the truth in his words. But she turned to face him, unwilling to duck her chin with shame. “I welcomed ye. I recall that well enough.” The gossips might call her many things but they would not label her a coward that laid the blame for her sins on the man that she had dallied with. “I am no’ set on making excuses for what I choose to do.”
“Stop sounding like we’re damned to Hades for enjoying the bodies God gave us.”
She tossed her hair over her shoulder and glared at him. “I might tell ye to stop behaving as though I should consider the fact that I warmed yer cock as anything respectable.”
He cursed in Gaelic. “I swear ye are the most vexing woman I’ve ever met.”
She snorted with amusement. “Aye, I believe I noticed that fact when ye called me hellion.”
He grunted and pointed at her. “Make no mistake Deirdre, calling ye hellion is a compliment. One I’ll be happy to explain to ye tonight when we have more time to explore just how much I enjoy yer fiery spirit.”
He cast a longing look toward the bed but shook his head. “But duty calls me.”
“Fare well.”
He aimed a sharp look at her. “Until tonight only, for ye will be here and in case ye have any doubt on the matter, ye’re me mistress.”
“I did nae agree to such.” She insisted.
His lips curled into a grin that was as mocking as it was promising. “Ah… something to look forward to then. I cannae wait for sunset and our debate of the issue.”
He pulled the door open, and Deirdre whirled around to hide her body from the men waiting outside the chamber. There was only a small platform at the top of the stairs and it was full. She heard them greet their laird and their steps as they descended the stairs. Bits of conversation floated in through the open door.
“There’s a difficulty at the mill. One of the wheels has rotted…”
“Twelve head of sheep missing from the south pasture. We needs hunt down the thieves…”
“The miller’s daughter claims she’s with child and the father will nae honor her…”
“A letter from the lieutenant general is waiting on ye…”
Deirdre turned and looked back toward the open door, almost pitying Quinton, because she could no longer hear the words clearly enough to understand them but without a doubt, Quinton was still being badgered by the needs of his clan.
That was the harsher side of being a laird. She’d witnessed her own father struggling to care for everything he considered his duty. It would have helped if Robert Chattan had married again so that his lady might have dealt with the matters that were considered a woman’s domain. Such as babies who would arrive even without the blessing of marriage. They needed to be recognized by their sires so they might be considered true members of the clan.
But she wasn’t Quinton’s wife. She growled, because she wasn’t his mistress either, no matter what the arrogant savage said.
“Yer wound must be paining ye, Lady Deirdre.”
Amber came through the door but paused when she heard Deirdre growl. The girl lowered herself, as did the two girls who followed her.
“Tully will be here shortly to tend ye,” Amber continued.
Deirdre shrugged into her overrobe with a snort. “There is no need. I want a bath. Tully can see me in the bathhouse.”
She needed to wash the scent of Quinton from her skin. Maybe that would restore her thinking. Deirdre ground her teeth as she left the chamber, because it was simply the truth that she doubted her ability to dismiss the man from her mind.
Curse and rot him!
***
“Amber, I am telling ye that I wish to wear more sturdy clothing.”
Amber looked unsure, but she tightened her resolve and shook her head. “I cannae go against me laird’s orders.”
“Surely he did nae spend any of his valuable time talking about what a woman should be wearing.” Deirdre tried to make her voice more cajoling but Amber still frowned at her.
“He did in fact tell me that he believed ye well suited by silks and velvets.” Amber walked quickly across the solar to the bundled fabrics near the sewing table and pointed toward them.
“The laird has even bid me to make everything in the storerooms available for ye if ye find nothing here which ye favor.”
“Fine, show me the storerooms.” It wasn’t that Deirdre wanted to look at fabrics, but she did desire knowledge of how to leave the solar.
Amber smiled, relief showing in her eyes to see her mistress happy once more. Deirdre felt guilt renew its assault on her but for a much different reason now. Berating herself over her lack of control with Quinton was far different than the feeling that was chewing on her now. She’d never had to worry about hurting the feelings of personal servants, for she had never had any. Her father had insisted she and her sisters learn to help one another and not burden the clan by being pampered.
Deirdre felt stifled. The women of the Cameron clan were determined to serve her.
Well, she wouldn’t allow it to choke her.
“I am going to walk.”
Amber smiled, eagerness shining in her eyes. “I’ll be happy to show ye everything, and I know there will be many who will be happy to meet ye. Ye’re the first lady the laird has brought to this solar, so there is a great deal of speculation about ye…”
Amber chattered on while Deirdre followed her through the hallways that made up the castle. She discovered herself interested in hearing about Quinton. She shouldn’t allow the fact that he’d never brought another woman to the beautiful solar to make her feel anything at all and yet, she felt honored to be allowed to use the fine things.
The man was complex. But his people seemed to like him well. The castle itself was a maze of hallways, which connected the towers. Each tower was unique, having been built at different times. The oldest one was a simple, Norman one and it was rustic when compared with the eagle tower. But with the thick walls connecting them all, Drumdeer was a castle that would not fall easily.
Deirdre found the workrooms and kitchens more to her liking and never returned to the eagle tower. Her fine clothing might set her apart but she had been raised to be a competent manager of an estate and she knew every task being performed because she’d done them herself. The cook finally huffed and brought her a huge apron to cover her fine clothing.
The woman watched Deirdre with a critical eye while she helped turn the bread for the evening meal.
“I see yer father had ye taught a thing or two of value.” She declared after a time.
“Aye.”
The cook tilted her head. “I’ve girls who can turn bread a plenty, what I’m needing is help with the book
s.”
Deirdre dusted her hands on the apron. The books were considered the lady of the house’s duty. Since Quinton’s sister was no longer in residence, the cook would have had to beginning seeing to the written accounting of what was used every day in the kitchens.
The cook pointed toward an archway, and Amber was already grabbing a candleholder.
“It would be a great help for I need to keep an eye on the supper or we’ll all be wearing our teeth down by eating blackened fare.”
There was a note of relief in the cook’s voice that sent Deirdre nodding with agreement. It was a mark of respect that the woman was willing to allow her near the books. Those written accounts were her duty, and one she would suffer for if they were not kept correctly.
Deirdre followed Amber through the doorway and froze when she gained a look at the cluttered table the kitchen accounts were scattered across. Parchments lay on top of one another with the large books meant for keeping the kitchen accounts open on top of it all. Quills were stuck into numerous items—an apple, a wooden bowl, or a plate—to keep them from having their tips destroyed.
“As ye see, I am a better cook than bookkeeper.”
“You shouldn’t have to be both,” Deirdre informed her. “Someone needs to bring it to the attention of the laird that there are duties his sister did which still require attention.”
The cook laughed and so did the five girls peeking through the door frame. A sharp snap from the cook’s fingers sent them all hurrying back to their duties.
“Well now, it seems the position of another lady to be telling the laird what he should be doing. That is nae my place.”
The cook lowered herself but there was a look of relief on her face as she quickly returned to her kitchen.
Deirdre looked at the mess and discovered herself smothering a soft giggle. It would seem she had found a place at Drumdeer.
“Let’s see what sense we can make of this mess, Amber.”
***
“Where is she?”
Quinton didn’t care for how angry he sounded. He wasn’t in the mood to examine his emotions too closely. He turned to glare at Coalan, the silence of the ladies’ solar sending his ire up even more.
“Somewhere in the castle. She did no’ leave.”
“Ye’re certain of that?”
His captain scoffed at him. “In those clothes? Me men had better be sure she did nae get past them.”
Quinton normally had more faith in his men. He didn’t care for the fact that he doubted them now but there was something about not knowing where Deirdre was which made him forget why he was normally so sure of things.
The reason really wasn’t so hard to put his finger on. He’d spent too much time thinking about her during the day when he had important things to focus on. Instead he’d looked up and wondered what she was doing.
Tracking her through his castle became an interesting journey as he heard tales of what she’d helped with. The spinners claimed she knew her way around a spinning wheel, which was no light praise. His cook smiled when she spoke of Deirdre and commented on the fact that she wasn’t easy to fool when it came to how much flour it took to put bread on the tables.
“She spent most of the afternoon in there.”
The cook pointed to the back room and he walked through the archway to see the account books neatly stacked. There was a roll of parchments waiting on one side of the table to be entered into the books but they were contained in a basket to keep them from spreading across the tabletop.
“The lady took the books in hand, and I’m right grateful for it,” the cook announced.
Quinton turned to look at the woman. “I suppose I should have recalled that my sister was seeing to the account books.”
The cook lowered herself. “Ye’ve more important matters to be concerned with than women’s duties.”
He caught sight of several maids looking around the doorway and noticed that the kitchen was utterly silent. His people were waiting to see what he’d say about Deirdre doing a task normally reserved for the laird’s family.
The fact that the cook had allowed her near the books said the woman respected Deirdre.
Quinton discovered himself grinning as he absorbed the fact that Deirdre Chattan was no pampered laird’s daughter. He found the knowledge sitting quite comfortably on his shoulders.
“Yer faith is well placed,” he announced before quitting the kitchens to search for Deirdre once more.
When he found her at last, it was in one of the older towers near a set of kitchens used only when there were guests. The rest of the time, it was where the musicians gathered at the end of the day to play tunes on their instruments. The younger folks danced in the center of the room while enough older Cameron people sat on the benches to make the gathering respectable. One of the hearths had a fire laid in it and Deirdre was illuminated by its light. Her silk velvet overrobe shone like a fine jewel as she sipped mulled cider from a common wood mug and nodded her head in time with the music.
When the dance ended and another began, a lad offered her his hand in spite of Amber shaking her head at him. Quinton watched, realizing he was very interested in seeing what she’d do when she didn’t realize he was watching.
***
Deirdre shook her head, refusing the offer to dance. The young Cameron man looked disappointed but she didn’t regret her choice.
She was becoming frustrated with the way she compared every man to Quinton. She was acting the fool to do such a thing. Quinton Cameron had received what he wanted from her. Allowing herself to dwell upon him was sure to led her to heartache and disappointment when the man wed himself an heiress.
But she refused the next offer to dance and then another one.
“Do nae ye care for dancing?”
She jumped, her body responding instantly to Quinton Cameron’s voice. A ripple of awareness went across her skin, even before she turned to look at him. His grin was too smug for her taste, a glint of victory in his eyes which rubbed her temper because the brute obviously believed she was waiting for him.
“I was just waiting for a man I truly wanted to dance with.”
“Is that a fact?” His grin became a wide smile.
Deirdre sat her mug aside. “It is. Coalan, will ye partner me?”
The captain had his hand out instantly but he frowned making her think it had simply been reflex that saw him responding to her invitation. Deirdre didn’t allow him to rethink his position but placed her hand in his and gripped his fingers when he began to withdraw it. She pulled the half resisting man toward the forming dance set and smiled at him.
That only gained her a frown from him but he moved in time with the country dance. Coalan abandoned her the moment the last notes were finished, giving her a quick pull on his bonnet before he hurried away from her. But one of the younger men who had tried to get her to dance stepped up and partnered her for the next dance.
The music was lively and the dances put sweat on her forehead. Her thigh ached but she laughed because it felt good to move. But her partner suddenly disappeared when she turned in time and she came back around to face Quinton. He offered her a cocksure grin as he took to chasing her up and down the set in time with the music. His people began to hoot and encourage him with loud clapping. It was only a dance and yet she discovered herself more breathless than she should have been. He caught her up against his wide chest and swung her around in the correct finishing motions of the dance but she felt like it was the first time she’d ever been embraced. Her senses were full of him, the way he smelled, the way he held her against him with just the right amount of pressure.
She stumbled when he set her back on her feet and the room filled with laughter. Her face flooded with color and she offered him a quick courtesy before dashing off and out of the room.
“I see ye do enjoy dancing for ye’re blushing.”
Deirdre bit back the gasp that tried to escape her lips. She walked farther out into the night, f
eeling exposed in the light.
“It’s warm inside. Spring has truly arrived,” she muttered in a sweet tone that even Kaie would have approved of. Quinton lifted one eyebrow and offered her an expression that no doubt he’d used at court when circumstances forced him to appear mild.
“I’m feeling it quite keenly myself.”
His tone became wicked and she fought the urge to laugh. “Behave,” she muttered but it was the truth that she wished he wouldn’t.
“Why should I?”
She propped her hands on her hips. “Ye are intent on being naughty.”
“Lads are naughty, I’m a man grown.”
She turned and began walking. The darkness suited her mood suddenly. “I’ve noticed.”
He chuckled, the sound soft and enticing when coupled with the shadows. “Good. But I confess I would have enjoyed proving the fact to ye if ye’d declared me a liar for saying it.”
He suddenly captured her hand in the dark. She felt the connection between their flesh travel up her arm leaving goose bumps along the way.
“Come lass, let’s disappear into the night shadows before Coalan takes his eyes off young Amber long enough to notice I’ve given him the slip.”
“Now ye sound like a lad.”
“Nae lass. When I was a lad, I thought having so much attention was something to envy.”
She couldn’t suppress a short laugh.
He grinned at her and pulled her gently up a set of stairs and then into a hallway. Their steps echoed between the stone walls but only because everything else was so silent. It was the time when the church preached against going out of doors for the demons and witches were at play.
Of course, it was also the time when lovers met. Her cheeks warmed as she felt the sure grip of the man she’d been unable to resist.
Lover…