Page 25 of Falling for Her Highland Steward
Erin realized that she now had to perform one of the most onerous duties of being a laird. It was expected of her to be on good terms with her neighbors, after all. That was how deals were done and money was made.
“Would you like to stay for dinner, M’Laird?” she asked, with another false smile pasted to her face.
“Thank you, milady. I would enjoy that very much!” His face lit up.
“Very well.” Erin beckoned a maidservant to escort Laird Grieve into the dining room. “Please help yourself to wine, whiskey, or ale, and if you need anything else, ask Minnie.” She indicated the maid. “Excuse me.”
The laird bowed, then turned and followed the servant.
Erin took the chance to whisper to Caillen, “Wait a few moments, then come to my room. I need to speak to you before I talk to him again.”
Caillen nodded and walked away toward Erin’s study, wondering what was going on. He counted to two hundred, then walked up the staircase as if he was going to his own chamber but stopped outside Erin’s, his heart beating frantically. At last, he was going to be alone with her again. He only hoped he could resist her.
Caillen knocked, and Erin’s voice bade him to enter. He moved inside cautiously.
“Sit beside the fire,” Erin’s voice was coming from behind a floral-patterned dressing screen and was accompanied by the sound of splashing water. “There is ale on the table if you want some.”
“Thank you.” He looked around the room, which was beautifully decorated in pale, subtle colors. There were gray drapes and a pale lilac coverlet on the bed, with cream curtains on the windows, and tables of warm mahogany wood on which stood copper vases full of wildflowers. Oil paintings of still lives and local landscapes hung on the walls. It was a feminine room, but it was most definitely not frilly; in fact, it was just what he had expected. He laughed inwardly. He had sensed that frills and Erin would not go together well at all!
However, there was one corner of the room that he could not see, and it was the one he wanted to see most of all. Damn that screen! He was so tempted to rip it away so that he could gaze at Erin in all her naked glory. He imagined her breasts and how they would fit into his hands, then her narrow waist flaring out to her curving hips—and her thighs, but most of all, what was hidden between them. He almost moaned out loud as he felt himself hardening.
“Can you hear me?” Erin asked irritably from behind the screen, and Caillen realized that he had been so lost in his own thoughts that he had not heard her speak.
“I am sorry. I was drinking my ale,” he improvised hastily. “What were you saying?”
“I wanted to know how much debt we are in,” she asked. “Have things improved much? I do not want Logan Grieve to think I have been telling him lies.”
“Most definitely!” His voice was proud. “We are still in some debt, of course—Rome was not built in a day, after all—but our position is much better than it was before I took over. But I thought you knew all this. Why are you asking?”
“I am checking my facts again,” Erin answered grimly. “I do not trust that man. He is after something, like a hunting dog scenting prey. I can see it in his eyes.”
“Erin, perhaps he is merely visiting,” Caillen suggested. “Not all men have ulterior motives. Perhaps he genuinely means to be kind.” He wanted Grieve not to be kind. He wanted him to be cruel so that Erin could see through him and reject him, but he, Caillen, had to be seen as a fair man.
“If he is being kind, then I am the queen of Sheba!” Erin snapped. There was silence for a while, then she said, “He is quite a handsome man. Do you think he has come to make me an offer?”
Caillen’s heart skipped a beat, but he took a deep breath and ignored it. “An offer of marriage? I thought he was married already.”
“He is widowed, like me,” she replied. “And even many younger ladies have their eyes on him, but I have to say that he has never appealed to me.”
Caillen breathed a sigh of relief. He had heard Erin stepping out of the bath a few moments before, then the sound of clothes rustling. He sighed regretfully as he imagined Erin drawing her chemise and then her dress over that lovely creamy skin, covering up her soft curves. However, in a way, it was a relief. He was almost painfully aroused.
“How do I look?” she asked as she stepped out from behind the dressing screen, smiling.
Caillen’s jaw dropped. He was looking at the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
Erin’s deep-crimson velvet dress was not revealing. It had a lace panel that began just above the curve of her breasts and reached up to a high neck that ended just below her chin. The long sleeves on her dress clung tightly to her arms until they reached her elbows, where they flared out slightly before being gathered into cuffs at the wrists. The rest of the dress fell to the floor from just under her breasts. She had pinned her glorious chestnut hair into a loose coil at the nape of her neck, and she smelled of jasmine and gardenia.
Erin laughed as she saw his expression. “Bad?” she asked, pretending to be afraid.
“You look absolutely stunning!” he breathed, beaming with delight. “And you smell divine.”
She pirouetted for him so that he could see the dress from every angle.
I wish you were mine,he thought suddenly. The notion hit him like a thunderbolt. He had lusted after Erin since the day he met her, but that was not what he was feeling now. He loved her. Caillen Johnstone, the man who had had his pleasure with so many different women, had found the only one he wanted and ever would want. Unfortunately, she was also the only one he could never have.
He loved everything about her; her stubbornness, her strength of character, and her sense of humor that bordered on ridiculous sometimes. When she became angry, she always made a good job of it, but she was quick to cool down and say sorry afterward, and she did not possess the reprehensible habit of sulking that so many other people had. Erin was not perfect; nobody was, but she was perfect for him.
“I think Laird Grieve is going to be delighted,” he said, smiling to conceal the bolt of jealousy that had just shot through him. He did not want anyone but Caillen Johnston gazing possessively at Erin.
