Errol nodded. “Right. Well, I shall leave ye to it. Latch the door behind me, Lass. Dinnae open it for anyone but me.”
She eyed him. “Whoe’er do ye think I would allow into our room?”
He shrugged. “I dinnae ken.” And he didn’t. She didn’t ken anyone here, but still felt the need for the warning. He didn’t want aught to happen to her. He didn’t think he would ever be able to forgive himself if harm came to her on his watch. But it wasn’t just that. Moira meant something to him. She’d whittled away at his heart on this journey. Chipping away his walls piece by piece until it was just a sliver left, and then, she’d chipped that away as well. “I dinnae believe ye would let anyone else in, but one can ne’er be too cautious. We are still on MacLeod lands, and ye are still a Hart. None of these people ken aught about what we’ve found. As far as they are concerned, yeare still the enemy.”
She grimaced at that reminder. Then shooed him towards the door. When he turned in the hall to face her, she said, “I promise I willnae open the door for anyone but ye.”
Satisfied, he pulled the door closed and waited for the telltale sound of the latch engaging. Once it had, he made his way down the hall and out the door to the nearby tavern.
The smoke-filled room smelled of soot, stale whisky, and spilled ale. That should bother him more than it did. But he was parched. The whisky could taste like dirty water, and he would probably still drink it.
He found a seat and sat down. Within moments, a serving wench with long red hair plaited down her back, big green eyes, and an even bigger bosom greeted him with a sway of her wide hips. When she smiled, her grin revealed a missing tooth.
Errol didn’t spend much time in this part of MacLeod lands and therefore didn’t recognize any familiar faces. The serving wench was no exception.
“What can I get ye?” She drawled, licking her lips as her eyes slid down his body and then back up again. She cocked her hip to the side and jutted out her chest. He was sure that her actions probably worked on some men that wandered in here, but they had no effect on him whatsoever.
But kenning that Moira was up in their room, naked, her perfect, pale skin slick with water? That was a sight he would pay coin to see.
“Whisky,” he answered.
The wench stayed by his table, instead of going and fetching his order. When he said naught further, she asked, “Aught else?” She bent over and placed her palms on the table, which gave him an uninhibited view of her hefty bosom thanks to the low neckline of her gown. She formed her lips into a pout.
“Nay. Just the whisky.”
“Are ye for certs? Ye’re a braw man. I bet ye could use—”
He didn’t let her finish whatever she was going to say. “I said nay. Just the whisky. Now.”
Her green eyes widened at his terse voice, and she straightened. “I will be back shortly.”
He ignored her hurt expression at his rejection. He had the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes upon in his room at the inn. The thought of a toss with a serving wench, this one in particular, was not in any way appealing.
He wondered if Moira’s breasts were bobbing in the water of the tub. He groaned, running his palms over his face.
Those were thoughts he didn’t need to be thinking. He needed to remain strong. Remember his duty to his clan and his father.
Moira, pretty as she was. Attractive as she was.
She was still a Hart. And there was no getting around that.
Chapter Sixteen
There was naughtmore luxurious that a hot, scented bath after days of traveling. Moira felt refreshed as she ran a brush through her hair and then plaited it into a thick braid that she then looped into a bun and fastened it with pins.
Errol had bathed in another room and once he had finished, he returned to their room, and they went to supper. Clean and with a full belly, she was content.
But now she faced a dilemma, staring at the one bed that was the main focus of the room. Of course, they had been in the situation afore, but she had Seema with her then, and Errol slept on the floor. They’ve also been alone since Seema returned to MacLeod Keep. They had spent the night together at the bothy as well. But Errol had been injured and then they fought, and he had slept in the chair. She still felt guilty about that.
She didn’t understand her hesitation with their one bed situation now. The majority of this journey has just been the two of them.
So, it was silly that she was feeling the way she was. Nervous. As if this were the first time she was seeing Errol.
They’d kissed. Multiple times. Moira brought her fingertips up to her lips. She could still feel the warmth of Errol’s mouth.
She wanted to experience that feeling again.
Mayhap that was the reason she felt on edge. Conflicted. LikeErrol was a piece of forbidden fruit that she wasn’t allowed. He had told her more than once the reasons why they couldn’t be together.
