Determined to ignore whatever Fraser intended to needle him about, Cyrus asked, "Do you have dried venison?"
"Nay. Is the lady hungry?"
Cyrus nodded. "She missed breaking her fast this morn."
A slight grin quirked his lips. "MacNeil or Norval may have some."
"Why are you looking at me thusly?"
"No reason." Fraser didn't bother hiding his smile.
"You find it amusing that the lady is hungry?"
"Of course not. What is amusing is the way you're coddling her and indulging her every whim."
"I'm doing no such thing." Annoyance twisted inside him. "I couldn't allow her to remain on Ned's horse. Could've thrown her and broken her neck."
"Aye, but 'tis clear you've developed a keen fondness for her."
Cyrus snorted, truly irritated now. "No more than for any other female."
Fraser raised a skeptical brow. "I've seen how you've been watching her."
"I'm helping her. I have no choice but to look at her. 'Twould be daft if I always looked over her head."
"Well then, when I was dancing with her last night, why did you keep glaring at me?"
Cyrus frowned. He hadn't done that, had he? "'Tis my normal expression."
"Usually, I would agree with you. But when I came back inside, you were dancing with her and smiling."
"Saints." Cyrus rolled his eyes. Fraser was the only one of his brothers who teased or challenged him in such a way. He didn't ken why he put up with it. "'Twas not her who caused me to smile. I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed dancing. It had been a long time. I would've smiled no matter who I was dancing with." 'Haps he had fought too many battles and not indulged enough in the frivolities of life.
"Oh, aye." Fraser chuckled, obviously unwilling to give up his assumption.
Incensed that he was right, Cyrus turned to stride away. "I'll ask MacNeil if he has any food."
Cyrus well knew he was serious about most everything. But because of this, Fraser could have an easier life. Of course, they often fought side by side and his brother was an excellent soldier. Fraser hadn't suffered any hardships that Cyrus was aware of, and he was glad.
He still saw Fraser as a lad in many ways, though he was in his mid-twenties. 'Haps he and Elspeth were around the same age, but that didn't mean Cyrus was going to allow his brother to dally with the lady. Cyrus would deal with him severely if he attempted it again. The only reason he couldn't confront him about propositioning Elspeth last night was that Fraser would ken Cyrus had been inside her chamber… a far more precarious position.
In the meantime, all they needed to do was take Elspeth home, then Cyrus, Fraser and their clansmen could leave.
∞∞∞
Cyrus guided his tired horse along the muddy road, glad MacNeil had given him some dried venison for Elspeth, so she could break her fast and not starve the whole of the day.
'Twas near gloaming and the rain was growing heavier. Cyrus should, by all rights, be exhausted himself, but he wasn't. Elspeth's curves brushing against his back as she held on around his waist made his body feel as if was buzzing with energy. At times, he felt her head lean briefly against his upper back. 'Twas a sweet feeling he could never recall experiencing before. With a wry grin, he imagined her dropping off to sleep, then startling awake. He did not ken why he enjoyed that image, which was so different from the infernal heat simmering in his blood, awakening his lusts as no woman had done in years.
He felt her stiffen behind him and attempted to glance over his shoulder.
"Thank the saints!" She removed her hand from his waist and pointed. "'Tis Darby Hall, there."
"Your home?"
"Aye."
Cyrus eyed the dull gray stone wall in the distance which surrounded a brick manor house of around three stories. One taller tower stood near the center. 'Twas attractive, but he could tell the curtain wall was completely inadequate. Of course, 'twas the norm for manor houses because they were not meant to be fortified castles.
