Page 56 of Midnight Conquest

“Enjoy your refreshments,” her uncle said before stepping into the study and closing the door behind him.

“Shall we?” Davina gestured toward the Great Hall, her smile as polished as her manners.

Broderick trailed behind as Ewan strode alongside Davina, his stance rigid and purposeful. The young laird attempted to keep pace with her, but his tall, lean figure appeared awkward compared to her effortless elegance.

In the Great Hall, Broderick pulled a chair from the table andpositioned it behind them, where he’d be able to see both Ewan and Davina’s profiles. The lad gave him a wary glance.

“You’re not eating?” Ewan asked, tone polite but edged.

Broderick shook his head and sat, crossing his ankle over his knee and resting his elbow on the chair’s arm. “I’m here tae provide Lady Stewart my protective presence. Dinnae mind me. Ye willnae even know I’m here.”

Ewan’s skepticism was plain, but he sat, settling into the place of honor at the head of the table.

The kitchen maid appeared first, carrying a tray laden with delicacies, followed by the cook with a steaming pitcher of mulled wine. The spread was modest yet thoughtful—meat pies, oatcakes, dried fruits, and a fine assortment of cheeses. Ewan’s face brightened at the sight, his gaze lingering on the meat pies with unmistakable interest.

Broderick cast a knowing glance at Davina, his thoughts unspoken but clear.“Well done, lass. Ye’ve chosen wisely—these are his favorites.”

“Ah, that was Uncle Tammus,”she replied, her mental tone wry.“He told Cook what to prepare.”

Ewan turned his attention to Davina, his voice smooth. “You must be quite busy managing such a large estate, Lady Stewart. I imagine it can be…taxing, nay?”

“Aye, it is,” Davina said warmly. “But somehow, with you here, I feel more at ease. There’s something about you that allows me to relax.”

Ewan preened under the compliment, his shoulders straightening. “I’m glad to hear it. You should always feel free to be yourself, my lady. I would have you no other way.”

“Thank you for that,” Davina said, her voice dipping into sincerity. “I’ve been so afraid of going through all this suitorbusiness again. After my husband…” She paused, letting the words hang. “I was terrified of being matched with another man who enjoyed dominating me with a heavy hand.”

Ewan’s expression softened, but as Davina slouched in her chair and began eating with her hands, Broderick caught the flicker of surprise in the young laird’s eyes. Revulsion radiated from him.

“Carry on, lass,”Broderick told her silently, biting back a grin.“The lad is positively horrified.”

Davina reached across the table, plucking the untouched meat pie from Ewan’s tray with all the grace of a raven snatching a breadcrumb. “Are you going to eat this?” she asked, not waiting for an answer before sinking her teeth into it. Her exaggerated hum of appreciation echoed through the hall. “So, what manner of recreation do you enjoy, my lord?” Bits of food escaped her lips as she spoke with her mouth full.

Ewan’s charming mask cracked, his smile tightening as his eyes darted to the offending crumbs on the table. With a practiced flick, he brushed a stray morsel from his sleeve, his movements precise and intentional. Shifting in his seat, he nudged his trencher a few inches away from Davina’s reach, as if her enthusiasm might infect the rest of his meal. His goblet, too, was subjected to a cautious inspection before he sipped and placed it strategically on the farthest edge of the table—safely out of range of Davina’s apparent hunger. Ewan even went as far as placing the bowl of fruit between them like a protective barrier.

Broderick pressed his fist against his mouth, his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. The woman was a bloody genius. She needed no guidance from him. She’d read the man as plain as a village signpost and was dismantling him, piece bymeticulous piece.

When Davina finally noticed, she straightened, brushing crumbs from her skirt. “Perhaps I can’t be myself quite as much as I thought,” she said, her tone apologetic.

Ewan cleared his throat, rising from his seat. “Quite all right, my lady. We all…slip, occasionally. Would you mind showing me to my room? I am rather famished after such a taxing journey.”

“Oh. Of course.” Davina stood quickly. Although she cast her eyes down as if mortified, the triumph pulsing from her told Broderick otherwise. She brushed the remaining crumbs to the floor, picked at her teeth behind her hand, and gestured for Ewan to follow.

Broderick trailed them up to the third floor, his lips twitching as he fought a grin. Ewan sighed in visible relief when he stepped into the guest suite.

“This is lovely, Lady Stewart. Thank you for your hospitality.”

Davina dipped into a curtsy—graceful yet laced with mockery—and Broderick nearly laughed aloud. She brushed her hand against her skirt before offering it to Ewan, whose smile tightened. He pinched her fingers delicately and kissed the air just above her knuckles.

“Enchanté,” he said, invoking the French custom expected at Scottish court.

When Ewan finally disappeared behind the door, Davina pivoted on her heel, her grin practically glowing with self-satisfaction. Broderick chuckled all the way back to the ground floor.

At the door, he reached for his cloak. “I was glad to be of service,” he said loudly, making sure Tammus could hear him through the cracked study door. “When is supper to be served?”

“We shall sup as the hour strikes six,” Davina answered, hertone even. But her mental voice was quick and panicked.“Where are you going?”

“We cannae talk here,”he replied silently.“I’ll meet ye in yer chamber.”

---