Page 27 of Bride of the Wicked Laird
“Aye, lass. Ye’re right.” He was somewhat taken aback by the acuity of her comment. All the more reason to take her into his confidence.
“Hugo is travelling tae France tae gain knowledge of which ships are used tae transport MacDougall’s cargo.”
“Ah. I see.” She nodded slowly. “If the privateers ken which ships carry his goods, they can let them through unscathed.”
Again, he was surprised by the quickness of her wit in understanding the details of their plan. And when MacDougall suffers nay losses, the risk of an assault on Barra and Canna will be alleviated.”
A wide smile spread across his face. “Why lass, ye’ve figured it out well. ‘Tis our plan, but as ye’d ken, it depends on secrecy.”
“Thank ye fer including me in yer confidence, me laird.” She looked up at him, her amber eyes alight and he could see at once her pride at being included in the plan. “I shall speak of this tae nay one. I understand that if the word leaks out, Hugo could be in grave danger and, should the plan fall apart, things could fare badly on the islands.”
As she spoke, a knock came at the door.
“Come,” he said.
Mildred walked in bearing a tray of honeyed nuts and strawberries. She laid it on the table beside them, along with a flask of warm mead.
“Will that be all, me laird?”
“Thank ye Mildred. I shall ring if I need anything further.”
Mildred turned to go, her eyes falling on Davina’s skirt. Everard followed her gaze, noting a large, brown, mud-stain on the striped linen kirtle.
As the door closed, he whispered conspiratorially to Davina. “Mayhap the mud has migrated from yer pretty little nose tae the hem of yer gown.”
Davina straightened her spine and lifted her chin. “Me apologies if it meets wi’ yer displeasure, me laird.”
He laughed, watching the flash of fire in her eyes. It appeared that teasing this bonny lass was a newfound pleasure.
Her eyes turned longingly to the sweets and he held out the platter. “Please. Help yerself.”
Without hesitation she reached out and picked up a candied walnut between a delicate thumb and first finger. She took a deep breath in and licked her lips before taking a bite. He smiled, watching her delight in the small pleasure.
“Mmm,” she closed her eyes.
He was suddenly tempted to lean over and plant a kiss on those sweet lips. Instead, he cleared his throat and tickled Feather under her chin.
“Have ye been over the bay tae the village yet?” He cursed himself for forgetting her terror of water. Of course, she wouldn’t have crossed the bay.
She shook her head, eyeing the strawberries. Grinning, he held up the platter again.
She bit into the strawberry and a drop of juice trickled down her chin. He took a deep breath, imagining his tongue licking the juice and exactly where that might lead.
God’s hooks. He needed to control his half-crazed imagination. The lass would be shocked if she knew the wild thoughts rushing through his head. He stood and warmed his hands at the fire, but the images did not leave his head. He had to leave. Now, or he would make a fool himself in front of Davina.
“Please. Partake of whatever sweetmeats yer heart desires, Mistress Davina. I’m afraid I must leave ye. I have matters tae see tae.”
She scrambled to her feet. “Apologies, me laird. I am keeping ye from yer tasks. I beg yer pardon.”
Before she finished her sentence, he was already out of the hall and, with long strides, took himself down to the slipway, half hoping he might see his brother and Aileen sailing in the bay.
Ranald Dunbar hurried over. “Good day, me laird. I was hoping tae speak wi’ ye.”
Welcoming the distraction from the forbidden desire plaguing him, he joined Dunbar and together they strolled down to the crew’s barracks. The building was set apart from the castle walls on a rocky spit. They found a place to sit in the sunshine, now that the mist had faded. Dunbar took out a piece of wood and his whittling knife and set to modelling a tiny figure.
“Ye wished tae speak wi’ me?”
Dunbar nodded, his attention still on the little carving he was creating.
