Page 57 of How to Be a Scottish Mistress

Gavin pulled in a stiff breath. “Laird McKenna wants me to marry his sister.”

Fiona went rigid. Her hand stilled, her breath ceased. “Will you?”

“Nay.”

An ache tore at him as she released her breath.Tell her the rest.Gavin knew this was the perfect opportunity. He was going to have to choose a bride, and soon, most likely taking Aileen Sinclair because an alliance with the Sinclairs was best for his people.

It was what the king wanted and Gavin knew it was his duty to obey. A part of him also knew that Fiona would understand that, yet try as he might, the words did not come.

Coward!His frustration nearly got the better of his temper. Fiona laid her head against his chest. Right or wrong, suddenly none of it seemed to matter. Gavin sighed and rested his chin on the top of her head. The comforting position had an unexpectedly calming effect, spreading warmth through him like a long sip of the finest whiskey.

“Is there some way I can help?” she asked.

Oh, Fiona! Yer breaking my heart.“Ye just did, lass,” he whispered, before turning her in his arms and pressing her back gently against the mattress.

She welcomed him as she always did, freely, openly, the sensual look in her vivid green eyes letting him know how much she wanted him. She invited closeness naturally, weaving a web around him that enthralled and delighted.

For a long moment he held her, the feelings twisting and seething inside him. Then, unable to resist, Gavin slowly, thoroughly made love to Fiona with an honesty and reverence that pierced his heart.

Chapter 12

The familiar sounds of clashing swords mixed with men’s laughter drew Fiona’s attention as she walked from the chapel across the bailey. Her heart quickened. Was Gavin on the practice field with his men? She craned her head and tried to get a good look, but her view was blocked by a wall of soldiers awaiting their turn to train.

She’d hoped to have at least a few private minutes with him this morning, but Gavin had risen from their bed while she slept. Nothing but cold linens and a faint, intoxicating male scent had greeted her. Though she tried to tell herself she was overreacting, Fiona was worried.

The concern in his eyes when he came to her last night was troubling. She believed it had something to do with the visit from Laird McKenna, even though Gavin claimed all was well in that quarter. But she wanted to know more.

It had been a shock to hear the laird was trying to broker a marriage between his sister and Gavin, but even more distressing was the feeling of dread that had gripped Fiona’s heart.I haven’t the right to care!In desperation, Fiona had repeated those words to herself last night, and again this morning, yet the disappointment curdling in her chest remained.

A cheer went up from the practice field, followed by a smattering of applause. Unbidden, the image of Gavin wielding his sword surfaced in Fiona’s mind. Perhaps he was working right now, and the strain of his movements, coupled with the midday warmth, made it necessary for him to remove his shirt. Bare-chested, muscles rippling, torso glistening with sweat each time he lifted his sword and swung it down.Oh, my.Fiona’s face flushed with heat at the very idea.

Merciful heavens, if Alice had not been walking beside her, Fiona might have given in to the temptation and turned to see what was happening. Her thoughts scattered, devoid of concentration, Fiona stepped squarely in the middle of a rather large puddle, soaking the hem of her gown with muddy water.

“Oh, now that will take more than a bit of scrubbing to get out,” Alice complained when she saw the mess on Fiona’s gown. “Though I know it’s impossible to avoid so much mud in this gloomy place. Why, if it’s not raining, then there’s fog or mist, and when the sun does shine, ’tis only for a few hours. ’Tis no wonder the Scots are a wild, barbarous people.”

“There was no rain yesterday,” Fiona remarked, remembering the previous afternoon.

“I know. Yet the puddles from the previous five days remain large enough to sink up to your ankles if you fall into one,” Alice grumbled.

Fiona smiled for a brief moment. Was the weather truly that gloomy or was Alice being overly dramatic? Honestly, Fiona had not noticed so much gray around the castle. “I understand that you might be feeling homesick, Alice. Do you wish to return to England?”

“And abandon you, my lady!” Alice clucked her tongue and shook her head. “Never.”

Fiona’s lips twitched. Alice’s loyalty was appreciated, but she could not let the woman suffer. “It would not be a permanent separation if you went back to England. Some day we shall all return, when Spencer claims his rightful inheritance.”

“An event I pray for nightly, my lady. But until that joyful day arrives, my place is here with you.” Alice drew herself up. “You need me.”

“I do,” Fiona agreed.

“I cannot bear to think how ill served you would be by one of these Scottish wenches.” Alice puffed out her chest. “I shall stay, of course, though I will confess that I shall be very happy the day we depart.”

Depart? Fiona had difficulty imagining it. Though they had been here a few short weeks, she was most reluctant to leave. Despite being an oddity, and an outsider, she had a sense of security within these stone walls that gave her a feeling of peace and contentment.

Yet Alice had raised a legitimate point. How long could she stay here? Years? It might take that long for Spencer to be ready to assume control of his legacy.

Fiona sighed. The simple truth was that she would stay until Gavin tired of her. That brought on an even deeper sigh. And what if she tired of him first? Fiona grimaced. What a completely foolish notion. Tire of Gavin? As if that would ever happen!

Another loud cheer from the training area distracted Fiona. Unable to stop herself, she turned and peeked through the crowds. In addition to the soldiers, squires, and pages, several of the household servants and stable boys, as well as a number of villagers, were gathered in a wide circle, intently watching the events.

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