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“Is something amiss, my lord?”
“No, but I would speak with you. Alone.” The final word was murmured into her ear, intended for her only to hear.
Roselyn’s lower body clenched and warmed. She had become accustomed to the familiar stirrings of arousal, and it took but a word or a touch from Blair to cause her to moisten for him. He was not above sliding a surreptitious hand beneath her kirtle at mealtimes to caress her inner thigh until she spread her legs for him. He would leave her aching with need and ready to pounce on him by the time he finally escorted her back to his chamber.
Theirchamber now, she reminded herself. Roselyn’s few belongings now shared the space. She possessed a bone hairbrush provided by Elspeth, four good kirtles made of fine Scots wool, and a pair of soft leather shoes which Blair had purchased for her from a travelling tinker.
That had been quite an occasion for the folk of Duncleit since visitors from further afield were rare. Roselyn had spent much time fondling the itinerant trader’s wares, inhaling the aroma of herbs and spices, and enjoying the delighted chatter as the other women of the castle clustered with her around the barrow. She had particularly admired the texture of the shoes, but had no coin with which to make a purchase. Blair was not present as she admired the tinker’s wares, but he had somehow learnt of her liking for the items and bought them for her.
He had even produced a lyre from somewhere and since then had demonstrated an impressive degree of fortitude as she sought to rekindle some semblance of competence with the instrument.
He took her hand and placed it in the crook of his elbow. “You may leave your hound here if you would, madam.”
“Freya, stay.” The dog turned, her nails clicking on the polished flagstones as she completed two tight circles before slumping back onto the planks beneath Roselyn’s abandoned chair.
Roselyn followed Blair’s lead to the foot of the stairs, then preceded him up the narrow steps. The route no longer bothered her; indeed, she could navigate the entire castle with relative ease. Every stairway now offered a stout rail to aid her, every fire had a screen before it, and there always appeared to be someone at hand to offer assistance or provide the information she needed to find her way. Blair’s doing, she had no doubt, and she appreciated his kindness. She had never known such freedom, and with every day that passed her confidence grew.
Despite the uncommon hour it would not have surprised her had he led her right through the solar and into their chamber, but he did not. Instead, he steered her to the window where a wide, quilted seat afforded a comfortable place in which to sit. It was a favourite spot of Roselyn’s.
“You know where you are?”
“Yes, my lord. Before the window.”
“Aye. If you lean forward you can rest your elbows on the seat.”
“Yes, I could. Is that what you would like me to do, Blair?”
“It is.”
Roselyn’s heart thumped but she did as he asked.
“Shoulders lower, if you please, and lift your bottom a little higher.”
Was he intending to spank her? He did so, occasionally, but in play. Roselyn had found the sport to be to her liking, for the most part, though she knew Blair would have no hesitation in delivering another bout of serious discipline if the need arose. She hoped it would not. She nibbled her lip as she arched her back to raise her buttocks up as he required.
“Excellent. You do have the most delightful derrière, Roselyn. Have I mentioned that?”
“I believe the point has arisen in conversation, sir.”
“Hmm,” he murmured. “Even so, I believe a closer inspection would be beneficial.” He took the lower hem of her skirts and raised the fabric slowly. He bundled it above her waist, then let out a low curse as the cloth refused to remain where he put it.
“Roselyn, I require your bottom to be bared so please be so kind as to gather the material of your kirtle before you and tuck it beneath your body.”
She complied, the cool draught of early autumn air from the window wafting across her naked buttocks. “What if someone below were to glance up and see us, my lord?”
“They will see only you, my sweet, enjoying the fresh, clean air of the Highlands. As long as you remain quiet and do not alert those outside to your… plight, I see no difficulty.”
“My plight, Blair? You mean to beat me?”
“Have you earned a whipping?”
“I had not thought so, but…”
“Not a whipping then. Open your legs, girl.”
“Sir?”
“I shall fuck you, I believe, then I have a matter I wish to discuss.”
