Page 7 of Sighs of the Highland Wind
Then, unexpectedly, she removed his blindfold, and he rubbed his eyes, blinked, and looked around. He tried to see the door they had come through, but there were so many shadows he would never have been able to find it again.
She had been clever to insist on the blindfold, but he suspected that she had deliberately brought him into the castle by some convoluted route on purpose in order to confuse him even more. Yet he was too exhausted to think about it anymore because he knew he was absolutely at her mercy.
Maxwell sat down gratefully and held his hands out to the flames with a great sigh of relief. He felt his fingers and toes beginning to tingle as feeling returned to them, and gradually warmth spread over his whole body, making him realize how cold he had been. The heat wrapped around him like a blanket, and he sighed.
“Here.”
The young woman put a cup of warm milk into his hands and he sipped it, closing his eyes as he savored its heat flowing down his throat. He had sampled many fine ales and whiskies, many exquisite wines and exotic liqueurs, but the simple cup of hot milk was the most glorious thing he had ever tasted.
He watched the woman as she bustled about the kitchen, and although the light from the fire and the dying lamp was quite dim, he could see her form quite well, and he decided that it was well worth seeing.
The first thing he noticed about her was the magnificent river of hair that fell to her waist in shining waves of golden brown. Sadly, the light was too bad to see the color of her eyes, but he could discern that they were light, probably blue or green. Shehad a tiny waist and generously curved hips, and her neck was long and swanlike. She was quite simply gorgeous, and to his surprise, a sensation he had not experienced for months began to assail him, and he felt the first stirrings of arousal.
The tasks she was doing were menial—as she gathered together bread, fruit, and other assorted food—but she moved with such grace that everything she did seemed to be almost a dance.
He was hypnotized by her, never having seen such a woman before. He knew he was being fanciful. He knew that people did not dance when they moved, and it was likely his hunger that was making him think such foolish thoughts. He was beginning to feel a little dizzy, but just as he felt that he might pass out, she handed him a cup of warm spiced ale.
“Follow me,” she instructed, “and do not make a sound, or we will both be in a great deal of trouble. Do you understand?”
For the first time, he felt a flash of irritation.
“I do,” he replied tersely. “I am not a simpleton.”
“Of course, if you prefer, you can spend the night in the stables!” she snapped. “Or I could alert the guards. You choose.”
She stood in front of him, hands on hips, looking at him with a challenge in her eyes.
At once, Maxwell realized that he had made a mistake. He groaned.
“Forgive me,” he said wearily. “I am not usually so rude. Perhaps I am too hungry or tired. I have had a few bad days.”
The woman nodded but said nothing. She did not replace his blindfold, and this time she led him up several flights of stairshe presumed must be used by servants. He could feel only bare stone under his feet, and the walls were rough and unpainted.
Presently they arrived at a door and stepped out into a carpeted hallway. Even in the dim light of the lantern, Maxwell could see that it was of poor quality and made of canvas. This was obviously the staff quarters, and although he had been to Invercree Castle many times, this was a part of it he had never seen before.
The young woman led him along the corridor to the very end, where there was another door, one which looked like the entrance to a cupboard. However, she reached into her pocket for the key and opened it, then locked it securely behind them.
Inside was a second door, but this one had no lock. They stepped into a small chamber, which was thankfully almost as warm as the kitchen had been due to the bright fire burning in the grate. Once more, he made straight for the source of the heat as he stood in front of the fire, holding his hands out to it. He usually hated the feeling of pins and needles that accompanied the returning of blood to his frozen flesh, but now it was like a caress.
“Sit here.”
She ushered him to a chair beside a small table, and as he looked around, he realized for the first time that he was in a bedroom. It was rather a small chamber; in fact, compared to the one he had slept in until a few months previously, it was minute. There was a window next to him, but it was shuttered against the cold, and he could not see the view beyond. He was about to ask her about it when she placed another cup of ale in front of him, as well as a plate of bread, several different kinds of cheese, and pieces of cold meat. They were all morsels, but there were plenty of them.
His mouth did not have time to water. He dived into the food and wolfed it down as if it was the last meal he would ever eat. When he had finished, he sat back and sighed deeply.
“Thank you,” he breathed. “I don’t think I have ever eaten a more delicious meal.”
“It was only a few scraps.” The young woman shrugged but smiled. “I have more ale if you wish.” She held up a jug.
Maxwell shook his head. “I don’t think that is a good idea. I really don’t want to become inebriated.” He stood up and went over to the fireplace again. “You will have to show me the way out. I don’t think I could find it on my own.”
She looked at him for a while, uncertain, before shaking her head.
“You might die out there, and I will not have that on my conscience. You can sleep on my floor or in my chair if you wish. I will lend you a blanket.”
He was astounded. “Thank you,” he said in wonder. “But you don’t know me. How do you know you can trust me? I am a big man, and although I am sure you are a very strong lady, I don’t know how you would defend yourself against me.”
“I do,” she answered, then whipped the dagger he gave her out of her pocket. “I have this, and believe me, I know how to use it!” She was glaring at him from beneath lowered brows.
