His hands were upon her in a flash, at her nape, her waist, pulling him back against him.
“I’m not finished,” he said.
Despite her pride that screamed at her to again fight him to gain her freedom, Glenna stood still, her hands at her side, her gaze now on his throat. This was all for a greater purpose.
“Go on, then,” she commanded.
But he was quiet for so long that Glenna looked once more to his face. Something smoldered in his eyes that stilled Glenna’s impatience. She could feel the beating of his heart against her breast, and her own seemed to answer his, knocking against the tender mortal wall that separated them.
“Would you submit to me?” he whispered, lowering his head until his face hovered over hers. “As my wife?”
“Nay,” Glenna whispered against his lips. “I will never submit to you.”
“Never?” He kissed her bottom lip, then her top, barely pressing her flesh. “What about now?”
Glenna tried to shake her head, but it was still held in his large hand. She became alarmed at the sudden weakness in her own legs.
“I think I could persuade you,” he murmured. “Aye, I think I could.” And then he kissed her fully, deeply, as she lay in his arms stupid and helpless to deny him, deny the powerful, unexpected feelings coursing through her body.
Beyond the roar in her ears, she vaguely heard the clang of metal, the echo of hurrying footfalls in the stair and corridor beyond. But she was startled when Tavish Cameron broke their kiss and stood her aright, bracing her briefly with his hands on her shoulders before he turned back to the table for his cup.
Glenna blinked rapidly and brought her fingertips to her mouth as she watched him turn the cup upward, his back to her now.
Did this mean he accepted her proposal?
The footfalls were closer now, but they were not the crash of wide boots nor the stiff soles of the servants. Glenna turned dazedly toward the doorway of the hall as a dazzling image of ivory and green silk floated across the stones, a tall, gilded headdress atop a glut of shining red locks.
“Tavish,” the woman breathed and rocked to a stop for a moment at the opposite end of the trestle table. She brought both hands to her mouth, just as Glenna herself had done, and then she picked up her skirts and ran the remaining length of the table, throwing herself into Tavish Cameron’s arms and kissing both his cheeks. “I’ve wanted to do that for ever so long. And now I am free to, whenever I wish.”
Glenna could feel the blood draining from her face as the couple pulled apart and the beautiful, splendidly outfitted woman turned a bashful glance toward Glenna.
“Forgive us,” she said with a tinkling laugh. “We’ve not seen each other for some time.”
Glenna only nodded, forced herself to swallow. She would not look at Tavish Cameron, even when his richly timbered voice spoke.
“Miss Glenna Douglas, of Tower Roscraig,” he said. “Miss Audrey Keane of Edinburgh.”
“Soon also to be of Tower Roscraig,” the woman said with clear happiness in her voice as she turned her face back to Tavish.
Glenna’s lungs froze so that that her “How do you do, excuse me,” was stiff and breathy. She turned on her heel and strode toward the doorway, the wood feeling spongy beneath her thin slippers, seeking to escape as quickly as she could.
But not so quickly that she failed to hear Miss Keane’s bewildered remark to the bastard standing in the hall with Glenna’s pride in his fist.
“Do you address all the servants here by ‘Miss,’ darling?”
* * * *
“Ho there, Muir,” Tavish called out as he came aboard theStygianbalancing the heavy trunk on his shoulder. He spotted the captain backing down the ladder from the forecastle beneath the sparkling night sky, the air cold and crisp in response to the balmy, bright day. The firth was high and boisterous after the days upon days of rain, and theStygian’s planks rolled beneath Tavish like the crests and vales of a familiar road.
“Laird,” Captain Muir greeted him with a clasping of hands. “I was on my way to the Tower. You needn’t have come down.”
“I wished to,” Tavish replied, setting the chest down with a grunt. “I’ve been too long away from theStygian. I might sleep aboard her tonight if you have no objection.”
At this, Muir’s slashing gray eyebrows rose. “She’s yours; I suppose you will sleep where it pleases you. A sling upon the waters might fail to tempt even me away from a fine bed in a grand home such as Roscraig, though.”
“Audrey has overtaken my chamber.”
Muir laughed out loud. “I wondered why you’d brought the chest with you.”
