Page 51 of Midnight Conquest

Davina grabbed Broderick’s forearm, pulling his focus back to her. “What did Uncle Tammus want?”

“He wanted to know if I could talk ye into gettin’ married. The man’s under a great deal of pressure to settle this matter and return to his business, which, I suspect, might not be doin’ so well.”

Davina resumed her pacing, agitation spilling over. “If Uncle Tammus would just let me run the wool business in his name, he wouldn’t have to worry about his own.”

Broderick chuckled softly. “’Tis obvious stubbornness is a family trait.”

Rosselyn rolled her eyes. “Truer words have never been spoken, sir.”

Davina scowled at both of them. Broderick grinned.

“I should tell ye,” he said, stepping closer. “I won’t be able to accompany ye until after the sun goes down. I’ve told TammusI’ve commitments durin’ the day, and he’s agreed to accommodate.”

Davina frowned. “Why only at night? That severely restricts our schedule. What if the suitors engage with me during the day? Can I fetch you from the camp?”

“Nay, milady. I’ll be unavailable.” He held her gaze, his tone firm. “Yer no’ payin’ me to be at yer beck an’ call all manner o’ hour. I have me own commitments to keep to the Gypsies. Do we have a deal? I’ve promised to help ye, and we’ve settled upon the payment.”

He cocked an eyebrow, and Davina bit her tongue, unwilling to discuss the terms in front of Rosselyn, although the heat burning her cheeks might give her away. “Aye,” she said reluctantly. “We have a deal.”

Broderick sauntered toward her, the heat of his body an aphrodisiac to her agitated senses. He slipped his fingers into her hand and pressed a sensual kiss to her knuckles, his tongue briefly darting out to tease her skin. She snagged her bottom lip in her teeth.

“Then I’ll see ye morrow eve.” He stepped past them and disappeared through the hall.

As soon as Broderick closed the front door behind him, Rosselyn whipped toward Davina, her expression sly. “Are yousureyou don’t want to marry him?”

Davina scoffed. “What Ireallywant is to go to bed. This has been a trying day, and it seems the week will be no better.”

Rosselyn laughed. “I’ll bring you some chamomile tea.” She kissed Davina’s cheek and strode toward the serving room, which led to the kitchens.

Davina climbed the stairs to her bedchamber, where Myrna sat near the hearth with Cailin. Her knitting needles clickedsoftly as her toe nudged the cradle in a slow, steady rhythm. The firelight flickered over her calm face, which turned to Davina, and she smiled. “Ah, your timin’ couldn’t have been better, milady. The wee bairn was just beginnin’ to stir.”

“Thank you, Myrna. I’ll feed her and put her abed myself.”

“As you wish.” Myrna picked up her bag of yarn and needles and waddled out of Davina’s chamber, closing the door behind her.

Davina unlaced her bodice and set aside the heavy protective padding. “Hello, Sweetling,” she cooed as she picked up her babe.

Cailin grinned at Davina with sleepy eyes. Taking the same seat Myrna vacated, Davina settled the baby onto the pillow across her lap. Cailin eagerly latched on to Davina’s nipple. She winced, then sighed as the pressure in her chest eased. Moments later, she switched her babe to the other side, and once Cailin dozed off, Davina carried her into the nursery adjacent to her chamber.

By the time she closed the door, Rosselyn was setting up Davina’s tea by the hearth.

Her handmaid helped her undress down to her shift and warmed Davina’s bed before she said good night.

Davina sank onto the cushioned chair in front of the fireplace, rubbing the hand Broderick had kissed. The heat of his lips lingered like an ember, sending a shiver through her that reached places she didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Nay,” she whispered to herself. “Broderick MacDougal is a wandering Gypsy. I don’t need a reckless man like him permanently in my life making demands.”

But the protest rang hollow. Her body betrayed her, recalling the press of his mouth against her skin, the surge of her heartbeat beneath his touch. She shook her head, as if the motion mightdislodge the memory, and reached for her tea. One sip, then another—but the warmth did little to calm her.

Setting the cup aside, she climbed into bed and drew the covers up to her chin. She’d get through this suitor business, she told herself. Prove her plan to Uncle Tammus. Win her independence. She clung to that hope as tightly as she clung to her blankets and drifted into a fitful sleep.

Chapter Nine

Rain lashed his face, icy needles slicing his skin as his head lolled back, eyes fixed on the roiling sea of gray clouds above. Too weak to move. Too weak even to lift his head. Each shallow breath escaped in uneven puffs, his chest heaving like it took everything he had just to keep breathing. The world tilted and blurred, spinning beyond comprehension.

Where was he? How long had he been lying here?

He blinked, trying to clear his senses, but the effort was useless.

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