He opened his eyes and looked at her.
“Now.”
More awake, he moved away from her.
She’d known it would be so, and yet her eyes stung with tears she would not shed, not before him, as she rose from the disheveled bed. This was her choice, her decision, and she must accept the consequences.
She went to retrieve the scarlet gown. Her hair had come loose, and it fell about her naked body.
Nicholas clasped her from behind and she started at the unexpected embrace. “Are you sorry?” he whispered.
She forced away any doubt as she turned so that she was looking at him. “No. I don’t regret what we did.”
His smile was worth any amount of shame and regret to come. “Then I shall not. Will you come to me again, Riona?”
She could no more have refused that request than she could have murdered her uncle. “Yes.”
He held her close, and as he did, he ran his hand through her long, unbound hair. “You have the most marvelous hair,” he whispered. “I’ve often wondered how it would look loose.”
“I should get dressed.”
He let go of her. “I like that red gown.”
“It’s Eleanor’s.”
“Ah, yes,” he said.
“For now, Percival must think Eleanor comes to your bed, not me.”
“Until I make my choice.”
“Yes,” she replied as she went to the door.
And left him.
ELEANOR WASanxiously waiting when Riona returned. If she noticed the knot in the lacing, or that it had been broken, she didn’t speak of it.
“Was Sir Nicholas asleep?” she asked in an anxious whisper as Riona changed her clothes. “Did Percival see you? Did anyone?”
“All went well,” Riona assured her. “All will be well.”
As she crept back to her own chamber, she subdued any remorse or regret. If there was trouble to come, she would face it. If there were discovery and scandal and dishonor, she would accept it. She would risk all that, and more, to be held in the arms of the lord of Dunkeathe.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
AFEW DAYS LATER,Nicholas stood by his solar window, hands clasped behind his back. Outside, the weather was fair, the fields were nearing time for harvest, and his soldiers were either on guard, or training.
He was thinking of none of those things. He was watching Riona, who was standing by the well talking with Eleanor and the soon-to-be-married Polly. Even from this distance, he could tell that Riona was smiling, her whole body alight with the vibrant joy and zeal she brought to everything she did.
Including making love. Every night he was with her was more exciting and astonishing than the last. Last night, her long, thick, marvelous hair about her naked body, she’d straddled him and bent forward so that the tips of her breasts brushed his pebbled nipples. Her weight on her hands splayed beside his head, she’d risen and lowered herself with intoxicating, maddening variety, exciting him until he thought he’d scream with both pleasure and frustration.
“My lord?”
Brought back to the present by his steward’s voice, he turned to face Robert, who lowered his eyes to study his list. “As I was saying, my lord, Lady Joscelind’s requests are rather costly. Peacock and quails’ eggs are but two of the items she wants to serve at the evening meal.”
“Can we afford them at all, or will that leave us with nothing?”
“We can buy them, my lord, but—”
