Page 57 of Won By The Highlander

‘Well, I’ve little left of that after you half-drowned me in front of all of Inverness.’

‘You exaggerate, lass. ‘Twas necessary at the time. And I can tell from the way you are spitting at me like a drowned cat that you are unhurt.’

‘No thanks to you.’

‘You shouldn’t have run then.’ The fiend smirked. ‘What on earth are you wearing?’

‘A whore’s dress,’ she barked, brushing leaves off the infernal thing. ‘A brothel madam offered to give me a change of clothes so that I might ride home without catching my death, and it was all on your account.’

Wolfric managed to team a frown with a smirk. ‘You went into a brothel?’ he said, looking her up and down, his eyes lingering a little too long on her bodice and his jaw tightening.

‘Aye. Are you shocked now?’

‘Not especially,’ he said smiling. ‘It looks a little small for you.’

Orla looked down and gasped. Her breasts had sprung forth and hung out of her bodice like some lewd offering. She shoved them back in.

Wolfric put his hands on his hips. ‘I like it,’ he said.

‘It is what you are used to, I suppose. It is hateful, and I had to trade my costly velvet for this scrap of filth.’

‘Did you now?’

‘Aye, for that awful woman saw what you did and thought you an abusive husband. She told me I could earn a great deal working for her establishment, and when I told her I would do no such thing, she refused me dry clothes unless I traded my own. She said her gentlemen, as if they even merit the word, would enjoy her whores looking more like ladies. So now some lewd woman will be selling herself in my clothes. I hope you are happy with your day’s work?’

‘Vastly happy, Orla.’ He tutted and shook his head. ‘Why do you get yourself into these scrapes?’

She glowered at him. ‘Why are you following me, and why are you looking so smug?’ she countered.

‘I wasn’t following you. I was just riding home. And I am delighting in my victory, for it seems you cannot best me on horseback, after all, not even riding that spawn of Lucifer.’

‘The fiend would not go faster so that I could evade your company. He is disloyal, just like his master.’

Wolfric stroked his horse’s flank over and over. Orla could not tear her eyes from his broad hand, the thick fingers and the span of it. She recalled the roughness of his fingertips on her skin, scouring as they soothed and coaxed in a heady mix of pain and pleasure. Had he done the same to Elva?

‘I have not been disloyal, lass. I have not broken my wedding vows.’

‘She was there, Elva, in Inverness. I saw her, Wolfric, and the both of you have been gone for days. I have thought for some time that….’

‘That her bairn is one of my by-blows, one of my bastards?’ He kicked the dirt and frowned. ‘I know the gossips around Blackreach name me as the father.’

‘Do you keep her as your mistress and visit when the fancy takes you?

‘She is not my mistress, and the bairn she carries is not mine, I swear. But for your own safety, I cannot tell you what I am about in Inverness. The less you know, the safer you are.’

‘Am I supposed to just accept your word?’

‘Aye. I would ask for your trust, Orla, and the answer to one question.’

‘You are not disposed to answer mine, so why should I….’

‘Please, lass, just calm down and answer me this. Why did you come looking for me today? Surely you are happier when I am not at home.’

‘I…your father was asking after you. He became concerned.’

‘No, he didn’t. Come on. The real reason, lass.’

Orla bit her lip, for she had no answer to his question save one, which he was sure to mock. ‘I…I suppose I was…I was lonely,’ she blurted out, her face on fire. ‘And I wanted you to come home.’

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