Page 13 of The Dragon Laird’s Obsession

Because if he regretted it, why do it at all?

Ailis crossed to the high slit of a window and rose onto her toes to peer out. She could see almost nothing but a slice of gray sky and the edge of the inner wall.

“How fortunate,” she said playfully. “A view. I shall spend many hours admirin’ that stone.”

His jaw flexed at that. “A better chamber may be readied if this doesnae please yer tastes, Ma’am,” he said.

Ailis turned to him. “Oh?” She widened her eyes, taunting him. “But this one has such charm.”

Gordon’s gaze settled on her. “Does it?”

“Of course. So close to the kitchens. I shall always ken when supper is late.”

For the first time, his mouth threatened to move. It did not become a smile. Not truly. But something flickered there, brief as a candle in wind.

Ailis saw it. Her own breath caught, and she hated that too.

He looked away first.

“I had the chief servant prepare this chamber,” Gordon said. “It is away from the main household. Ye said ye valued freedom. Here ye will have privacy, and we neednae cross paths even after the bindin’.”

Ailis stared at him. “I agree. We need nae cross paths.”

“Good. Find yer rest then, and a servant will be with ye in case ye need anythin’.” He walked to the door while she glared at him, her jaw tight and teeth gritting to keep herself from screaming at him. Gordon turned back to look at her, then added. “Daenae forget, we do this for our families. I for me brother and ye for yers. I shall see ye at supper. Daenae be late.”

With that, he slammed the door after him, making her jerk back from the shock of its echoes.

CHAPTER FIVE

Gordon arrived late to supper, and yet Ailis was nowhere to be found.

Even though I explicitly ordered her to be on time.

Marion gestured around the table set for their supper. There was roasted venison, trout, and even pottage made with herbs, using Marion’s favorite recipe. Gordon could inhale the fresh scent of herbs from it and the smile on her face as her eyes scanned the room.

“Will Ailis be joinin’ us tonight? Or is she too tired from her travels?”

He glanced toward the dining hall’s doorway again and felt a tickle of expectation. He had spent most of his evening with his man-at-arms, Malcolm, listening to reports on the western patrol. He then spent another good part of his time with the village head, Tam.

Gordon expected to return to his keep for a quiet supper before spending the rest of his time in the study. And this supper with his aunt, expectant of Ailis’ arrival, would not be quiet.

The door opened, and his gaze went to it. A maid entered with a fresh platter instead of Ailis, and his muscles tightened even further while his fingers tightened around his cup.

Marion noticed it this time as her smile thinned. “Is everythin’ all right, dear? Will she be joinin’ us?”

Her eyes were sharp enough to pierce through him, and he knew she would not drop the question.

His gaze moved from hers to Malcolm’s then he cleared his throat. “She must be too tired from the road. I am sure she will eat when she is ready.”

His aunt shook her head almost immediately. “Nay, nay… if she doesnae feel well, then ye must go to her.”

Gordon was lifting his cup to his lips when she suggested that, and the ale spilled down his throat a little too fast, making him choke. His throat burned with the flush of heat that crept through him.

“Why would I do that? She has servants, and she is provided for. She will eat when she is ready.” The table fell silent, but he felt eyes on him, staring… judging. “Ye daenae really mean that I should go to her?”

Marion nodded. Malcolm cleared his throat, but the silence in the room had heavy meaning, and he knew what it was.

He clenched his fists even tighter and allowed the ripples of tension smack right through him.