Page 5 of Kilty By Association
Even her uncle, whom she loved, had used her as a bargaining chip to align the clan with a powerful Earldom.
But this stranger, thisbandit, had suggested he’d protect her just because she was a lass. Because she washer.
Oh, for goodness’ sake, ye’re acting loopy. Ye only just met the man, and he looks like he subscribes to the annual-baths-are-good-for-yer-health method of hygiene. He’s abandit. Stop going all gooey over a bandit!
The pep talk didn’t help the throbbing between her thighs.
Why was she responding to Craig this way? Was it possible she missed intercourse? It had been three years since she’d last lain with her husband; once she’d become pregnant again, he’d left her alone, and since his death and then Mary’s birth, she’d been uninterested in repeating the experience.
It wasn’t as if sex meant anything besides pain. Brigit liked to joke about the pleasures a man could bring a willing lass, but Elspeth’s experience had been something very different.
“Look, milady, I cannae take yer job because…” With a soft growl, Craig scrubbed his hand over his face, tugging at his beard even as his fingers tightened around the mug. “Fook, I’m bad at this subterfuge thing.”
Her smile was weak. “If it’s any consolation, so am I.” Slowly, Elspeth lowered her hands. “I much prefer to be upfront and outright.”
“Aye, well…” He wasn’t looking at her. “I wish I could be. I’m no’ for hire.”
“No’ by me, or no’ by anyone?”
Pale eyes darted toward her—were they hazel?—and then away once more.
“No’ by ye.”
She sighed. This was getting her nowhere. Why was she still here debating with this man? Surely there were others in the tavern who would be amenable to working for her and guarding Robbie?
None of them approved by Brigit.
There was that.
So, she took a deep breath. “Ye’re unwilling to be hired by me because ye’re waiting to be hired by a bandit?”
His large hand released the mug and smacked against the table. She found her gaze drawn to his fingers—thick and callused, with a sprinkling of hair across the knuckles. His nails were neatly trimmed, though, at odds with the coarse clothing he wore.
“No’ just any bandit, lass.Barthold the Bald.” The way he announced the name made the man sound like some kind of wonder. “He’s the leader of the largest bandit band between here and the borders. He and his men have attacked two monasteries and are responsible for at least a dozen deaths.”
His eyes…there was something in his eyes. Not admiration, not fear, but…anger? Toward what?
Elspeth shuddered. “He sounds horrible.”
“He is,” Craig growled.
“So why…” She swallowed, thinking of the pain and suffering such a man had caused. “Why do ye want to be hired by him?”
Craig’s mouth opened but no sound emerged. Instead, he dropped his chin to his chest and flushed.
When a man as large as he, with hair that color,flushed…well, he stayed flushed.
She felt a smile tug at the corners of her lips. “Craig,” she prompted, realizing how much she sounded as if she was trying to coax Robbie into confessing a sin. “Do ye admire this Barthold the Bald?”
“Nay, I—” He glanced up, looking around the tavern. “I meanaye, of course I do.” Was it her imagination, or was he flustered? Adorably so? “Barthold is a legend!”
“One you admire?”
“Absolutely!” he declared, lifting his chin and meeting her gaze defiantly.
It was so patently a lie that she struggled to contain her chuckles.
Instead, she reached across the table and patted his hand, which was still spread beside the mug.
