Page 15 of How to Be a Scottish Mistress

Even now, his pulse was pounding hard and fast and a rising heat had captured his loins. Thankfully, the hem of his embroidered tunic concealed most of his ardor and his stoic expression hid the restlessness teaming inside him.

Disconcerted that his rampant desire would cloud his common sense, Gavin searched for a different topic of conversation. But there were none to be found. Not while Lady Fiona watched him with such a pensive look on her face and the rest of the hall’s occupants openly stared.

Accept.The word echoed in his brain, and Gavin was surprised by how strongly he was tempted. Yet still he held back. Always aware of his position, Gavin was cautious and very particular when choosing his bed partners. It was something his men liked to joke about, though seldom directly to his face.

Twice married, Gavin had been a faithful husband—out of respect and empathy. Respect for the woman who bore his name and presided over his castle, and empathy for the suffering endured by an innocent bairn born out of wedlock. It was a fate no child deserved.

Thanks to his philandering father, he was forced to contend with the antics of a bastard brother whose actions were rooted in resentment and misery. Many would find it difficult to believe, but every now and again Gavin felt a pang of sympathy for Ewan Gilroy and the place he occupied in the world.

Gavin refused to place a child of his own in such a tenuous position, refused to have his heir contend with the same difficulties; praise God he would one day be so blessed as to have a son. This attitude made for many a cold night swim in the loch to relieve his ongoing sexual frustration, but for him, it was the right choice.

Gavin kept away from female servants and peasant girls, seeing how it could lead to talk of favoritism and breed jealousy among his people. Straying wives and curious virgins were also avoided at all costs. That left clean, experienced whores to dally with and the most desirable bedmate of all—a barren widow.

Pity, really, that Lady Fiona could only fulfill half that requirement.

“Do ye have other children in addition to Spencer?”

“No.” She hung her head.

“Have ye buried many bairns over the years?” he asked gently, recalling with pain the three small grave markers in the valley.

Gavin’s son had lived the longest—five days, dying hours after his mother. The two infant daughters his second wife had borne him had each lived only a few hours.

“Alas, I’ve not ever experienced the joy of carrying a babe.” Lady Fiona’s mouth turned white with regret. “Sadly, Henry and I were never blessed with children of our own.”

“Spencer?”

“Is the prodigy of my husband’s first marriage to Lady Catherine.”

“The boy is yer stepson?”

It didn’t seem possible. Why would she fight so hard and sacrifice so much for a lad who wasn’t even her own blood?

Lady Fiona gave him a stifling glare. “Spencer is my son in every way that matters,” she declared hotly. “He is the child of my heart and will forever remain there.”

Her loyalty surprised him. ’Twas a quality Gavin greatly admired and Lady Fiona obviously possessed it in abundance. Yet another mark in her favor.

“How many years were ye Henry’s wife?”

“Ten.”

And no pregnancies? Clearly she was barren. His interest piqued, as this fulfilled his first requirement in a lover. And she was a widow, accomplishing the second.An English widow.

That was a complication that might cause some difficulties in time. But standing at this juncture, the promise of a sweet, lovely, willing bedmate pushed those repercussions to the very back of Gavin’s mind.

“Leave us!”

Gavin’s booming order rang out through the hall. Soldiers, guardsmen, and servants alike scrambled to obey, the more bold among them risking a curious glance in his direction before departing.

Duncan was the last to leave and he dared to push himself forward to mutter in Gavin’s ear. “I’ll grant ye she’s a bonnie piece, and there might be a good reason or two to offer her aid, but dinnae be letting yer cock make that decision.”

“When I’m in need of yer counsel, I shall ask fer it,” Gavin declared hotly.Bloody hell.Allow a man the chance to freely speak his mind and he’ll seize every opportunity to tell you precisely what you don’t want to hear.

At last alone, Gavin advanced upon her. Her eyes widened with something he could not define. Fear? Nay. ’Twas more like resolve. His admiration grew yet again.

“Ye ask much of me, Lady Fiona.”

“But I am prepared to give much in exchange.” She lowered her lashes coyly. “Whatever you require, whatever you want.”

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