Page 51 of The Forest Bride
Dame Brigit held the door open, and Lilias glided through, head high. She might be a whelp and a bastard, but she was a king’s daughter.
And she would find a way to leave this place soon, by any means.
Chapter Thirteen
Morning sunbeams floweddownward, rinsing shadows from the castle walls as Duncan left the slate-roofed kitchen building for the keep. He took the steps by twos as he went up the turning stair, balancing a wooden bowl and a jug in his hands, with a gown of moss-green wool over his arm. Reaching the third level, he knocked, upended the drawbar, and shoved the door open.
Light streamed through the glassed window arch, making the red plaid drapes around the empty bed very bright. Margaret Keith sat on a bench, turning as he entered. She wore the too-large blue gown again, her unplaited hair a mass of loopy curls. With her perfect oval face and green eyes, she looked elvish and adorable. His heart leaped.
She crossed her arms. “What is this?”
“Something to break your fast.” He set bowl and jug on the table. “Bran made porridge. It is not too bad. I thought you might be hungry.”
“Thank you. I did not expect to see you today. You seemed so busy yesterday.”
“I was.” Though he had sat with his clerk, Patrick, considering legal documents much of the day, Margaret had never been far from his thoughts. He set the green gown on the bench. “Here, I found this for you.”
“For me?” She looked up at him in surprise. “A pretty color.”
It reminded him of her eyes. “It should fit better than Effie’s clothing. This belonged to my sister, I think. Brechlinn was afamily castle before it came to me, and there are chests of our old things here. You can have other garments if this one suits.”
“Thank you.” She gave a shy smile as she poured ale into a cup. “Will you have some?”
He shook his head. “Margaret—I owe you another apology. I did not mean to—the other morning—good God,” he muttered, flustered. The heat of a blush filled his face. The girl had a damnable effect on him. Always had.
“I am the one should be sorry. That kiss was my idea, not yours.”
“Oh, I was part of it.”
“If you apologize, do so for keeping me here.”
“Ah, the wildcat is back.”
“The wildcat is impatient, desperate to act while you ponder.” She scowled at him now, then sat to dip a spoon into the oats. She ate in silence for a moment.
“I will not act impulsively in this. It is too important. I discussed it with Lennox. We agree we need to act. I have been looking through some recent changes in the laws to see what rights I still have over sheriffs.”
“Lilias is a hostage. And Andrew is missing.”
“He is likely still in the forest wherever you were staying. We will find him. And if your feeling about Menteith is correct, we may have to negotiate to get her back. Remember that Bruce’s women have been held for months. Give me a few days.”
“And me? Your hostage here?”
“I am considering that too. Eat and change. I want to show you something.”
“What, your gallows?”
“Margaret,” he groaned.
“Wait there.” She took up the gown and went to the bed, climbed up on the flat mattress, and tugged the curtain closed.He heard the bed creak and rustle, then she yanked the curtain open and stepped down.
He blinked. She was transformed. The gown skimmed over her lithe body, enhancing womanly curves and draping down over her scuffed leather boots. Her hair, spilling free in loose curls, gleamed like new bronze, and the gown’s color reflected her forest-green eyes. She was a vision, even more so than the girl with wet curls in Effie’s too-large gown, or the redhead he had glimpsed days ago.
Again, Margaret Keith took his breath away, stopped his thinking for a moment.
He glanced up and down her body, recalling the moments when she had felt so good in his arms. He wanted that closeness, those kisses with her; wanted all of her, but had cut it short for her sake and his. His pragmatic nature saw complications more easily than dreams; his manly urges saw no issue and needed restraint. But his heart saw only Margaret, the girl he had hurt and had missed. And he wanted her deeply.
For a few hours the other night, they had moved toward truth and acceptance. She had opened up to him in the impulsive and enchanting way he remembered in the girl, and found fascinating in the woman. But he had stopped himself, for it was not right to take her as if he had a claim. He did not.
