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‘Because you care for everyone here, including my pig-headed brother, and you never take anything for yourself. You need someone Rory, to care for you. ‘Tis long overdue, and she is lovely.’
‘You think I want a nurse for my dotage, Ilene?’
‘You are hardly there yet, silly man. You’re young enough, in your prime in fact. You can still have a wife, children.’
‘Her father approached me. He wants to find another husband for her. He is looking for a man to palm her off onto, one far from here who doesn’t know of the vicious lies they make up about her. Iwould not see her suffer that.’
‘Then you must claim her before he does something about it.’
‘Why are you turned matchmaker, Ilene?’
‘I am fond of you, and I would see you happy, Rory, not like my brother skulking about the castle like a wounded boar. Go over and ask Monnine for a dance or else I will think you have no more sense than Conall.’
‘Conall has the good sense to guard his heart, but if you wish me to dance, then I shall dance.’ He kissed the top of her head and brushed his knuckle down her cheek.
Rory made his way over to Monnine, who gave him a big smile and a self-conscious curtsey. ‘A fine gathering, is it not, Monnine,’ he said.
‘Aye, it is Laird, and I love music, it’s so lively.’ Beautiful amber eyes, wide in a pale face, the whitest of teeth digging into that full, moist lip on one side. What he wanted to do to her now, what he would do if this room were empty and she was his.
‘Dance with me then.’ He said the words quickly and offered his hand to her, fully expecting a rejection, but instead, she blinked rapidly, and her mouth fell open, and, with the smallest of smiles, she took it.
‘It has been a long while, and I fear I may crush your toes, Laird.’
‘A small price to pay for the pleasure of dancing with the prettiest woman in the room.’ Ugh, where did that come from? She must think him nothing but an oily flatterer. He resolved to keep his mouth shut and just get on with it as he led her out into the centre of the hall.
Monnine felt small under his hands and delicate. Where his hand rested on her waist, he could feel an energy coming off her. Rory tried to touch her as little as possible, but as he whirled her around, he began to hold her tighter between turns. Her coppery hair was tamed into tight curls with the odd tendril hanging over her bosoms, round and pale and ripe looking. Skin such as hers would be the envy of most women, a pink blush spreading over it as she stared up at him and by God, he couldn’t help but stare back. This woman brought out something fierce and protective in him, which was completely at odds with the desire now tearing at his loins.
Her eyes held him in some exquisite grip, warm, tender and caring. He brought his face closer until their lips almost touched.
‘I cannot. You should not,’ she said, putting her head down and glancing around her nervously.
‘Why, because you don’t want me to?’
‘People are looking, Laird.’
‘Let them look.’
‘That’s easy for you to say, you are a Laird, and I am nothing but….’
Rory took her hand and pulled her out of the hall, and kept walking until the music behind them faded to nothing. He found a quiet corner and turned to her.
‘You can go back to the hall, but first I have something to say to you and you will stand and listen to me…no running away. Give me an answer and, whatever it is, you have nothing to fear. Do you trust me in that?’
She swallowed hard and nodded.
‘Good, well, here’s the thing. I want you, there I have said it. I cannot help it, it may be unwelcome, but I can’t stop. Now I need to know something. Am I repellent to you?’
‘How can a servant like me possibly tell a Laird that?’
‘One who trusts me not to be angry can tell me the truth. A friend can tell me the truth, and we are friends, are we not?’
Her lovely eyes swam with tears as she said, ‘Of course, you are not repellent to me. I like you, more than like you, but it is wrong.’
‘Why, because I am older than you?’
‘No, but you know what they say about me, what my husband said, those foul things. People will always fear me, think me a little strange, a little different, and they don’t like it. Even in this castle, under your protection, they shun me.’
‘Let them shun if they want to. I don’t care, Monnine. I just don’t care anymore.’
