Page 29 of How to Be a Scottish Mistress

The lad smiled and hurried off. Gavin turned to a silent and still Fiona. She had retrieved her nightgown from the floor and gathered it close to her chest.

“Is there danger?”

“Of a sort. An outlaw who thinks he can raid my villages and frighten my people is once again on the loose. He needs to be taught differently.”

“Must you go? Can you not send your men?”

“’Twould be better if I lead them.”

He was pleased to see she understood his answer, perhaps even approved of it. It took maturity and a serious regard for a man’s leadership position for a female to fully comprehend the notion of duty.

Or else she’s simply happy that I’m leaving her alone.

One look at Fiona’s rumpled, doe-eyed countenance was all Gavin needed to dispel that disconcerting thought. He took a long, deep breath, struggling to beat back the lusty demands of his body. Once in command of himself, he placed a knee on the bed and leaned forward, looming over her.

“I’ll not be gone long. Keep the bed warm. Better yet, move yerself into my chamber and keep that bed warm. ’Tis larger.”

Then, giving her hip a hard squeeze, he left.

With a flushed face and a quivering body, Fiona stared at the closed door. Gavin being called away was a stroke of good luck for her, was it not? A close escape from having to pleasure him, to allow him intimate liberties, to experience feelings and emotions that she could not identify.

No man had ever touched her the way Gavin had. Even more shocking was her answering response and the deep feeling of longing for more of the same. When he encircled her within his arms and kissed her, it felt as though her insides were floating.

She was completely unprepared for the strong rush of emotions that invaded her the moment his lips touched hers. There was promise in his caresses. Promise of fulfillment, yes, but promise of compassion and caring. Dangerous emotions for any woman to expose her heart to, but a vulnerability that no mistress could afford.

It should have felt tawdry, allowing a man who was not her husband to take such liberties. Maybe that was what was bothering Fiona most—it hadn’t felt wrong. It had been comfortable and natural. It had been glorious and she craved more.

How could that be? She had lived her life striving to do what was good and proper and moral. Her reward from the Almighty for following this path had been the tragic death of her husband, abandonment by her blood relations, and days lived in fear.

The earl had changed it all. Fiona knew it was only temporary, knew she would leave his castle one day, would leave him. But while she stayed, was it so terrible to search for and nurture any bits of pleasure she could find?

Was that really so wrong, so wicked?

She needed to find the courage to ask Father Niall. Her priest and confessor had said nothing about this bargain she had struck with the earl, but she knew he must have an opinion.

Was she ready to hear it?

Fiona sat on the edge of the bed, shook out her crumpled nightgown, and then slipped the garment over her head. The earl had asked her if she was afraid. She had lied and said no. But deep inside Fiona acknowledged the truth. She did fear him. But not in the way he thought. Not physically. She feared the emotions he stirred within her breast, the feelings of promise and hope. She feared she would grow to care for him, and no good would ever come from that situation.

Fiona’s mind turned to Henry. Guilt rose up within her like a murky tide. She had never felt this passionate intensity with her husband, had never craved him so completely, longed for him so defiantly.

Henry is dead.For once the thought did not bring the usual well of intense sadness. Instead, Fiona felt a calming acceptance of the reality. There was no need for her to lock away the memory of her love for her dead husband. ’Twas better to recall the joy of life and living, to remember what it felt like to love and trust a man.

Henry’s death had taken so much away from her, but it had also given her the strength to move forward, to admit that a part of her hoped to one day find the love of a good man. It felt honest acknowledging these feelings, for they would help protect her. From Gavin. She had agreed to be his mistress and she would uphold her part of the agreement. She would be sweet and accommodating and giving. She would do all that he asked of her—and gladly.

But, she would exercise prudence and self-preservation. She would not fall prey to the earl’s charms. For that road most assuredly led to heartbreak and despair.

Gavin was awake. He shifted restlessly to his side and pulled the edge of his cloak to his chin. The hard dirt dug into his hip and shoulder, but he knew it was useless to try and find a comfortable position sleeping on the forest ground.

Grunting beneath his breath, Gavin stared out into the thickening woods ahead. The canopy of tree leaves hid the moon and most of the stars, yet he could still make out the silhouette of the man posted on watch.

Closing his eyes, Gavin adjusted his head on the log he was using as a pillow and once again tried to sleep, hoping the rustle of leaves and the creak of the windblown trees might lull him into an hour or two of slumber. But the rumbling sound of the men snoring around him and the hoots and growls of the woodland creatures inhabiting these woods made sleep impossible.

That, and the thoughts running through his mind. When dawn broke, it would be up to him to decide if they would continue the pursuit or make their way back to the castle. Without capturing Gilroy.

They had tracked the outlaws to Dunfield’s Cross, only to discover Gilroy and his men had already come and gone. Discouraged by the now-cold trail, they had ridden another ten miles before making camp. Gavin knew patience was required to vanquish an enemy. Following that creed had proven successful in the past with many of his foes. But in the case of his bastard half brother, Gavin’s patience was gone. He was tired of playing games.

Abandoning the pretense of sleep, Gavin stood.I might as well relieve the soldier keeping watch. Mayhap that poor sod can get a few hours of rest.Gavin took a step, then froze at the faint sound of thunder rumbling in the distance. Shifting his feet to see through the thick tree leaves, he squinted up at the night sky, surprised to see twinkling stars dotting the blackness.

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