Page 26

The rain never stopped.

As such, they had no other choice than to retire after spending the evening, and two meals, sitting by the window watching dirt puddles form after watching the sky darken and listening to both the storm and the buzz of others’ conversations.

Maisie and Kieran avoided talk of kisses and spoke instead about their childhoods, Kieran’s situation, Maisie’s worries for the inn and all manner of other things. But as each of the patrons left the alehouse, an establishment not unlike her inn though with less rooms, of course, it was time.

Kieran lifted the key. “Shall we see to our room, wife?” he teased.

Maisie pushed away the last remnants of her meal and stood in response. There were only three rooms abovestairs, the alewife had said, theirs being the last in the long hall that seemed eerily quiet as she and Kieran made their way through it. With wall torches lighting the way, she stepped aside and allowed Kieran in front of her to open the door.

“Oh,” she exclaimed, not at all prepared for the room to be so spacious and well-appointed. Wandering over to the bed, her hand traced the fine craftsmanship of its frame. A fireplace in the corner of the room had been lit, and along with a lantern beside the bed, there was plenty of light to see that the room was, indeed, clean. All she’d hoped for.

“I will leave you to undress,” Kieran said, looking down at the floor.

She made a quick decision. “The bed seems to be large enough for two people,” she said. “I can sleep to your back. If it pleases you.”

He let out a breath. Kieran was suddenly more imposing here, in this bedroom, than he seemed in the hall. “It would please me too much,” he said. “Thus, the problem.”

She tried not to smile at that. “I trust you.” Unbelievably, ‘twas true. Maisie did, indeed, trust Kieran to be a gentleman, even if they slept in the same bed together.

“Maisie,” he began, and then, instead of finishing the words, with another intake of breath, he turned to leave. “I will be just outside the door.”

With that, Kieran made good on his promise and left. Maisie, not knowing how long it might be until his return, made quick work of her kirtle. Stripping down to her chemise, she folded her clothes and placed them on a wooden chair, boots underneath it. Then, utilizing the lavender-scented water bowl on a stand beside the bed, she picked up the cloth beside it and cleaned her face and arms, wiping away the day. Maisie then chewed on a piece of mint, discarding it in a wee bowl before heading toward the door.

Opening it just a crack, she whispered, “I am finished preparing for bed.”

Kieran pushed the door wider, his eyes moving from her face downward as he stepped back inside the room. She wore naught but a cream chemise, her feet bare and quickly becoming cold. Maisie pretended not to notice his appreciative gaze and headed toward the fire.

“I willnae turn around,” she said, “if you wish to do the same.”

Kieran chuckled. “I most often sleep in the nude, so . . .”

Her eyes flew to his face. Kieran smiled. “You are jesting with me.”

“I am not.”

“Surely you willnae do so this eve?”

Chuckling, he began to remove his boots. “Surely not.”

With his boots off, Kieran undid his belt. She watched as his plaid fell around him and the belt dropped. “Did you mean that you would not turn around to avoid seeing me or the opposite?” he jested.

Mortified, Maisie spun toward the fire.

“You are a wicked man to tease me so.”

“I never claimed to be otherwise.”

She watched the flames dance, imagining what Kieran was doing behind her. “But I know it to be so.”

“Do you, now?”

“Aye. I do.”

Suddenly she could sense a presence just behind her. His hands landed on both of her arms, just below each shoulder. Warm, comforting. She had no notion to push them away. Just the opposite, in fact. Maisie had wanted him to touch her all day even while denying such a fact to herself.

“I am not a wicked man,” he whispered, his breath so close to her ear Maisie could feel it. “But being with you makes me wish to tempt your vow.”

His left hand moved from her arm to Maisie’s right ear. First, he tucked the loose strands behind it and then pulled the rest of her hair back so it was no longer hanging in front of her. She did not have to guess at his purpose for moving it aside, as a moment later she could feel his breath on her neck.