Page 59 of Don't Give A Damn About My Plaid Reputation
Giric yawned as he clamored to his feet and joined his laird. “Pudge and Weesil did that. Auld Gommy disappeared with one of the serving wenches.” Giric winced and covered his eyes with one palm “Nay, I dinnae want to speculate,thankyeverramuch.”
Ah. ‘Twas becoming clear that Giric—rejected in favor of the eldest MacBain warrior—had consoled himself with drink.
“So I should no’ order oysters in cream sauce, and pickled vegetables with mutton to break my fast?”
Giric turned green. “If ye do, I’ll vomit on yer boots.”
Kester made a show of examining his feet. “I like these boots, so mayhap I’ll just stick with brown bread.” He nodded his thanks to the proprietor and gestured for him to bring more.
Giric was picking at his bread as Pudge and Weesil entered and Mook slowly woke. Soon, all of them—save Auld Gommy, and Kester was also happy not to speculate—were gathered around the table.
He sat with his back to the wall so he could keep an eye on the stairs. And when Robena finally descended, he was the first to see her. Sucking in a breath, he slowly stood.
God’s Wounds, she was lovely. She’d worn that yellow silk for her sister’s wedding, which meant she’d been wearing it during his “tour” of the secret passages, and their kisses. Mayhap ‘twas because he’d broken her heart that day—whatever that meant—but he hadn’t noticed howlovelyshe looked in it.
Or mayhap ‘twas because today she wore her hair down around her shoulders, clean and curly from its accidental washing yesterday.
Or mayhap ‘twas the shy, secret smile she sent his way, the gentle coloring of her cheeks, and the reminder of what she’d screamed last night with her legs wrapped around his waist.
He was grinning proudly as he crossed to take her hand.
“Holy shite,” murmured Giric, wide-eyed. “Robbieisa lass!”
‘Twas Weesil who stood stiffly and bowed, his fist over his heart. One by one, the men followed, as Robena blushed.
“What happened to her mustache?” Mook whispered loudly.
Giric, who was sitting once more with his forehead planted in his palm, groaned. “Therewasnae mustache. ‘Twas fake. For shite’s sake, I cannae believe I didnae see it!”
Kester couldn’t help feeling a little smug at that.
“I’ll take it as a compliment, Giric,” Robena said softly, “that I could foolye.”
He groaned again. “I cannae believe we joked about…everything.Pissing. Pleasuring women.Our favorite part.”
This time, Robena was grinning as she met Kester’s eyes. “I’m still me. Ye can still joke with me.”
“Nay, ye’re no’.” Giric still hadn’t looked up. “Ye havetits.”
‘Twas one thing to listen to his Robena joke with another man, and another thing altogether to hear that man—and a handsome one at that—admire her tits. Kester growled.
Giggling, Robena pressed against his arm, so he could feel those same tits under her gown.
The sensation—the knowledge she couldn’t bind them because he’d cut her wrappings—and the memory of how they’d tasted in his mouth last night, made his cock stir happily.
He cleared his throat.
“Lads, we’ll be at the Games in two days if we ride hard. Once there, I’ll meet with Murray.” He glanced down at Robena, who was chewing on her lower lip as she stared up at him. Taking a deep breath, he continued. “And I’ll tell him there’ll be nae alliance.”
The responses from his men were varied, but Robena’s was all that mattered. Something like hope had flickered in her eyes at the announcement, but it faded to worry. “The King….”
He didn’t allow her to finish. With a sharp shake of his head, he faced his men. “I will no’ marry Murray’s daughter.” He kept his voice pitched low in case the proprietor was listening. “I’ll face the King’s wrath if it comes to that. Pudge will take my place as laird if I have to—“
She tugged hard on his hand with both of hers. When he glanced down at her once more, ‘twas to see her frowning fiercely.
“I love ye, Kester MacBain, but I dinnae want ye hurt just so we can be together.”
A reluctant smile tugged at his lips and he bent to press a quick kiss to her lips. “I love ye too, Robena. Hopefully, it willnae come to that.”
