Page 31 of Craved By a Highland Beast

“An’ what, precisely, would ye suggest?” Alaric asked, gesturing his arms as if to say he was all ears. “I would love tae hear yer suggestions.”

Evan glared at him, unimpressed by Alaric’s sarcasm. He didn’t, in fact, have any suggestions and Alaric knew that perfectly well. Had he been capable of coming up with another plan, he would have done so already.

“Well . . . get out o’ me chambers,” Evan said, standing up with a decisive sigh. “An’ let me prepare.”

With an inelegant snort, Alaric stood and slapped Evan encouragingly on the back as he walked by him. He was gone without another word, heading to his own chambers, and once Evan was alone, he began the task of looking as presentable as possible.

It was easier said than done for him, of course. There was a natural roughness to his looks, from his dark beard to the hair that refused to lay neatly on his head. His size didn’t help either, as he towered over men and women alike, looking very much like what he was—a human weapon.

After trying his best with his hair, looking intently at his reflection in the looking-glass, he gave up and decided he was simply going to have to take his chances. Leaving the room, he made his way around the castle and tried to figure out which girl he should approach first, his mind going through the list of all the maids he had met during his stay.

As he passed by the bottom of the stairs, he caught a glimpse of one of them as she hurried towards the kitchens. Evan recognized her as Ada, one of the younger women in the castle, who had smiled openly at him only a few days prior.

As far as his options were concerned, she was perhaps the best one.

Evan approached her quickly, sliding up in front of her to block her way. At first, Ada was startled, but when she saw it was him, she smiled warmly, giving him a bow.

“Good mornin’, me laird,” she said bashfully, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. Though she didn’t resemble Bonnie at all with her blonde hair and bright blue eyes, Bonnie was still the only one Evan could think about in that moment. He had to chase the thought of her out of her mind to focus on the task at hand, and he forced a smile on his lips as he leaned against the wall.

“Good mornin’, Ada,” he said, voice dropping low and taking on a sultry tone. “Are ye busy?”

“Only a little,” Ada said. “Is there somethin’ ye need?”

“I only wished tae speak with ye,” Evan said with a small shrug.

Around them, the corridor was empty, but the privacy they had was little more than an illusion. Not too far from them, the kitchens were bustling with activity and at the other end of the corridor, guards and servants went about their days and chores. Evan didn’t have much time to get what he needed, and he had to be clever about it.

“Did ye?” Ada asked, looking at him through lowered lashes, her hand coming up to smooth her hair. “About?”

Evan gave another shrug, his mind scrambling to figure out a way to ask her what he needed to ask. “Just about ye,” he said. Perhaps if he turned the conversation towards her, then he could eventually steer it towards Ruthven. “What have ye been doin’ today?”

Ada raised an eyebrow as if she didn’t quite believe that was all Evan wanted from her, though she probably thought it was a pathetic attempt at flirting rather than a ploy to get information on her laird. She looked at Evan from head to toe and then up again, gaze locking onto his.

“Well . . . I helped in the kitchens an’ then I scrubbed the floors,” she said. “I’m afraid it isnae anythin’ that would thrill ye, me laird.”

Evan took a deep breath, considering his next words carefully. “A bonnie lass like ye . . . ye shouldnae have tae dae such things.”

As he spoke, he took her hands in his, thumbs brushing over the calluses and the roughened skin, drawing a gasp out of Ada. She blushed once again, her cheeks turning a bright shade of red, but made no attempt to pull away from Evan.

“An’ what should I be doin’?” Ada asked, eager to play along.

“If ye were in me castle, I would have ye servin’ me an’ only me,” said Evan. “How is it that Laird Ruthven doesnae dae that?”

“Well . . . I’m nae only servin’ Laird Ruthven, but I dae serve him often personally,” Ada said, taking the bait much to Evan’s relief. “I bring him his meals, I clean his study . . . I serve his guests.”

“His guests? Does he have guests often?”

“Och aye,” said Ada. “People visit him often an’ he invites them tae stay fer as long as they’d like.”

“How kind o’ him,” said Evan, though even he couldn’t make the words sound like he meant them. “Is John Balliol one o’ those guests, perhaps?”

Ada gave him a curious look, one that betrayed her suspicion. At first, she said nothing, glancing around her for a moment as if she wanted to see if someone could hear them.

“I will tell ye in exchange fer a kiss,” she said in the end, all that bashfulness from before suddenly gone.

Was it all an act? Perhaps she isnae the shy lass I thought she was.

Then again, Evan wasn’t who he claimed to be either. He could hardly blame her for putting on an act to get what she wanted when he was doing the exact same thing.

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