Page 8 of The Veiled Wish of a Highland Bride

“Are ye lost, lass?” he said, sparing her a grin. “A bonnie thing like ye walking around aimlessly… Ach, it breaks a man’s heart.”

After a series of smiles and compliments, Archie found himself in an abandoned larder, the maid held tightly against him. She was pretty enough to please him, teasing him with her kissing, willingly giving herself to him.

“Lassie, ye are too good for me… ye ken that?” he whispered, kneading her breast under her bodice while she stroked his cock with her knowing hands. “But if ye dinnae mind,” he drawled, pulling himself out of her grasp, “I’ll take my board at the Buckham pub in the village. Ye can find me there tomorrow night, so I can have ye proper.”

The maid smiled shyly. She nodded all too enthusiastically before adjusting her dress and bun, opening the door to the larder and skipping out. He chuckled as he saw the love bites on her neck.

Nothing better than leaving my mark on the bonniest lasses in the Highlands.

Mia was standing in front of the larder, her ear pressed to the door, when she heard steps approaching. While her tea had been stewing, she had heard shuffling noises and whispers down the hall. It had been too hard to resist wondering which one of the guests had come down to the kitchen.

There was not a single bit of surprise in her as she recognized Laird Macnab’s voice.

Of course.Who else would it be but him, taking a lass in the larder?

Mia ran quickly back to the kitchen, picking up her tea and turning her back to the hallway. One set of footsteps hurried away and the other, the heavier gait, made its way toward her.

When she turned around, Macnab was standing in the doorway. He eyed the cup in her hands with a pleased expression on his face. Mia staggered backward.

“Easy there,” Laird Macnab said. “Ye ken, ye should nae be listening in on people’s conversations, Lady Murray.”

Mia rolled her eyes. “Ye ken not that I was listening for a start. And if Iwas, I dare say there was hardly any conversation going on in there.”

Flushing, Mia was trying her best to play the part she believed she was supposed to as the Lady of the keep: one of pretty ignorance. By the looks of it, the Laird was having none of it. He smirked and leaned against the door.

“What is so funny, Laird Macnab?”

“Och, she kens my name,” he said teasingly. “I have barely had the chance to introduce myself to ye properly, aye?”

“Well, there was naething proper about the way we met, but aye, yer reputation certainly precedes ye. My husband was quick to let me ken all about ye.”

“Ach, I see. Tell me, fair lady, what was he kind enough to say of me?”

Mia decided she did not want to indulge this cocky man a moment longer—not now, at least. She had heard he would be staying at the Buckham, and she intended on pitching her offer to him there. She would not back out, not now.

But she couldn’t do it here; not in Murray Castle where even the walls had ears.

After receiving nothing more than a shrug of her shoulders, Macnab cocked his head. “So, ye make tea yerself. Is that not under yer station, my lady?”

Mia still ignored him, taking another sip. Suddenly, she began to worry that Bram would find her compromised for the second time that night. She would not take her chances.

Covering the distance between them, the man asked, “Are ye going to ignore me all night long? I have other lasses to entertain me if ye will nae speak.”

“I will speak,” Mia said at last, “but ye will nae like it. Ye asked me what I heard of ye, but I am afraid to say it. I dinnae want to hurt yer feelings, my laird.”

She watched as Macnab took one long look at her. With a smirk, he left the room, throwing his last words over his shoulder with a wave of his hand. “Thank you for yer hospitality, Lady Murray.” He turned at the doorway. “But when next we meet, ye will call me Archie and ye will like it.”

She watched the man,Archie, leave, not doubting that she would like it for a second.

CHAPTERFOUR

The following night, Archie waited at Buckham just like he had told the maid. He had never been one to pass up an opportunity for a good drink and banter, and he was particularly drawn to places where the prettiest girls in town liked to meet.

It had taken a lot of effort to persuade Lennox that it was a good idea to venture from the keep for the night, but in the end he had won. Archie could not think of a better way to spend his time than enjoying all the pleasures of the village.

“The Murray ball was damme fine this year, eh? Many a pretty woman was there and so much to drink. Ach, I’ve been drinking whisky to my fill since we arrived,” one of the men at his table said.

The tavern was a small hooded building, and Archie’s head was near-grazing against its rafters. Wooden beams ran horizontally across the ceiling and pillars of the same kind held the roof in place.

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