Page 18 of The Cruel Highlander's Bride
Magnus only had a few precious moments alone to think of Ciara before Ewan walked back into the study. He fought the urge to snap at the man. His man-at-arms was… dutiful, albeit a little bothersome. He was always around, always watching him. Like now, when he walked back into the study, he scrutinized the room and the way Magnus sat casually at his desk.
“I met Lady Ciara,” Ewan said in way of greeting.
Magnus stiffened at the slight edge to Ewan’s voice but waited for the other man to continue. He had never had a problem with his man-at-arms, besides his constant presence, and he really hoped he wasn’t about to have one now. It would be a hassle to replace him.
The man had served his father, but when Magnus took over, Ewan immediately made his distaste for the previous Laird known, and that was enough for some sort of trust to develop between them. Since then, Ewan had performed his duties with an almost obsessive perfection.
“She is lovely,” he added.
There wasn’t a hint of longing in the man’s voice, otherwise Magnus most certainly would have fought him. He was honestly suppressing the urge, as it was. He didn’t like the sound of her name coming out of another man’s mouth.
There are far too many men in this castle.
How many of his men would she meet today, and how many of them would say her name? Hopefully, Elspeth and Olivia were keeping her busy and introducing her to some nice ladies.
“Aye, she is,” Magnus agreed coldly.
His man-at-arms narrowed his eyes, continuing his close inspection, but he didn’t push the issue further.
Wise man.
“With the feud over, we have a lot to discuss,” Ewan began.
“What do ye mean?”
Magnus had naively hoped that ending this war would make carrying out his day-to-day duties easier, but the way Ewan was looking at him quickly squashed that hope.
Magnus sighed, today was not the day for another long conversation with his man-at-arms. Not when his mind kept wandering back to Ciara. Was she enjoying his castle so far? And what about tonight? Would she come to his chambers, as requested?
Picturing the lass in his rooms wearing her green gown, or maybe even her night clothes, was a dangerous endeavor. His imagination conjured her lounging on his bed, the hem of her dress riding up her legs. He thought of the way her long legs might look bared to him, and he found himself biting his lip harshly.
Maybe they could have dinner in his rooms, and she could sit on his lap as he fed her each bite. His chef was one of the best, in Magnus’s humble opinion, and he could practically hear the soft moans she’d make as she took each bite from his hands. He’d have to go down to the kitchens and request something that could be easily eaten off his fingers.
Magnus sensed that his betrothed never had anyone coddle her the way he wanted to. She’d never ask for it, always the one taking care of others, but he was sure that she would melt in his arms once she got a taste of his brand of care. There were so many things he could show Ciara.
“Me Laird…” Ewan prompted.
Apparently, he’d been waiting for some response for a while, if his terse tone was any indication. When Magnus looked back at him with a raised eyebrow, the man paled a little and mumbled an apology.
“Because we lost so many men in the war with Clan Gunn, there’s been so few men to work the fields…” Ewan trailed off.
“Aye,” Magnus replied mindlessly. He was already back to picturing all the ways he could take care of his future wife. Maybe she’d like a bath…
“We have very little food…” Ewan added slowly.
“Mhmm,” Magnus muttered.
He heard Ewan speaking and himself replying, but no part of his mind was processing the words. No, he was miles away from this conversation. Hopefully, it wasn’t anything important.
He still needed to find out what exactly Ciara wanted to do with her time here. She clearly had something in mind already. Whatever it was, Magnus would find a way to make it happen.
“Some of the women from the village have asked for an audience to discuss their plight. Will ye meet with them?” Ewan asked.
Once again, the words didn’t register.
“Aye,” Magnus muttered vaguely.
He would agree to anything at this point if it sent Ewan away. He had plans with his betrothed tonight, and he had many things to do in preparation, it seemed. Besides, this meeting was a waste. Nothing could push Ciara out of his mind now, and everything Ewan was saying was lost on him.
