She moved across the room very much aware that the space smelled of him. Oil of clove, sea air, and raw masculinity. She had noticed his striking yet not offensive scent the first time he offered his arm. The faint hint of the sea had confused her. At least, at first. Then she realized how he came by it. This braw, handsome man was a smuggler. She would bet her brand-new minibus on it. Well, she would if she still possessed it.
“Ye can tie the other curtain back if ye wish,” he called from the door.
She took his advice and pushed back the heavy damask on the left and secured it with the braided rope meant for that purpose. Only the right side of the deep red curtains had been tied back earlier. Apparently, Teague didn’t care for a room full of sunshine.
“If the window seat is dusty, wait a bit and I shall fetch one of the lasses to clean it for ye.”
“It’s fine.” She knelt on the bench overflowing with pillows. “If ye intend to keep calling out from the doorway, ye might as well join me.” He reminded her of a child told to stand in the hall while its parents decided its punishment. “But leave the door open,” she added. She doubted if screaming or running would do her any good, but if he meant to do her any harm, surely he would have done it before now.
“Only if ye are certain.” He remained in the doorway, leaning against the frame with one foot crossed over the other.
She turned back to the window, pressing her nose against the pane to see the area directly below. “If I wasna certain, I would not have said it.” Her moist breath steamed up the glass, making her lean back and wipe it off with her sleeve.
“Here. Open it so ye can see better.” He released the latch and pushed both tall sections of the broad window open wide.
She backed up. “Shh! I dinna want him to see me spying on him.”
Teague leaned farther out, peered downward, and grinned. “He willna see ye. He’s hard at work impressing those wee lassies lined up on yon wall.”
Mila joined him on the windowsill. “I see him.”
The men had assigned Robbie the task of unhooking the team and leading them into the open-sided feed shelter while they unloaded the wagon. There he was, standing on a stool, brushing the animals while they ate. At first, she wondered how he had known what to do, then scolded herself. The lad was pure dead brilliant. He could solve any challenge in a matter of minutes. And Teague was right: even in the drizzling rain, several young girls sat on the low stone fence, swinging their feet and sending shy smiles his way.
“Who are those girls?” They better be nice to her Robbie.
Teague directed her attention to a trio of women standing inside the gate and casting bold smiles at Calder and Bhric. “The eldest daughters of those three.”
Mila couldn’t help but notice the suggestive dip to the ladies’ necklines, the brightly painted hue of their cheeks, or the heaviness of the bold lipstick smeared across their mouths. “They dinna happen to work for Vivyanne, do they?”
“Aye, they do.” He pointed to the one on the left. “The one in yellow is Lucy, red is Scarlett, and blue is Fannie.” He faced her then, his expression turning sober. “We dinna judge anyone here, Mila. Not for who they were, nor for who they are. All are welcome in this clan as long as they be loyal and true.”
“I was not judging them.”
“Aye. Ye were.” His head took on a thoughtful tilt. “’Tis understandable enough. I know ye worry about the lad. But know this: I maintain the peace and prosperity of all—no matter thelevelat which society might deem them.”
His smug lesson in acceptance soured her. Superior airs and uppity scoldings like that were the main reasons she had never married. She refused to be talked down to by anyone. She was not a bad person.
“Thank ye for showing me that Robbie is well and appears to be settling in nicely.” She pushed off the bench and exited the room. Once he joined her, she pointed at the other two doors. Bookcases framed one. A pair of long, low cabinets flanked the other. “Which way to my chambers? I am ready to rest a bit if ye give me yer word Robbie will be sent up as soon as he finishes.”
“It appears I have stepped on the wee wildcat’s tail.” He jerked a thumb back toward the bedroom. “The door connecting our chambers is in there to the right of the bed.” As she moved to step past him, he stopped her. “Dinna be cross, aye? Ye needed to know how things are here. How folks are treated.”
She pulled her arm free of his grasp. “What I need is to rest then speak with Robbie. And let me reassure ye, Chieftain MacDonald, we willna overstay our welcome here.” She eyed him to see if the formal address caused the irritation she intended.
The muscles in his jaw flexed, signaling clenched teeth. Good. Her subtle message had been received.
He rendered a curt tip of his head. “As ye wish, Mistress Abernathy. If ye will excuse me now, I have much to attend to and have delayed it long enough. I shall see that Master Robbie receives word to report to ye as soon as he finishes his tasks.” Without waiting for a response, he strode from the room and firmly clicked the hall door shut behind him.
A tinge of guilt tarnished her golden cloud of victory. The man and his people had been nothing but kind. She shouldn’t be ratty with any of them. She hadn’t been judging the women.
Well, perhaps just a little.
The admission didn’t ease her guilt. It just made her angry at herself and even more irritated with Teague because he had read her so easily. Well, it didn’t matter what he thought of her. The man knew nothing of all that Robbie had endured. Her best friend had entrusted her with the lad before the accident. Robbie was hers to protect now.
She tossed her head to rid herself of the turmoil. She had enough to worry about without adding more to it. After another glance out the window at Robbie, she fished the key out of her pocket and hurried to the door on the other side of the bed. After passing through it, she locked it, then turned to search for something to block the way, and immediately forgot her intent.
While Teague’s room had been dark, cavelike, and manly, this bedchamber bloomed with gentleness, light, and comfort. Pale hues of yellows, pinks, and greens gave the room a feel of a hidden, ivy-covered grotto in the middle of a multicolored rose garden. Tapestries of florals covered the walls. A lush canopied bed. Delicate chairs, washstands, and wardrobes. A dividing screen of creamy silk painted with dainty trailing vines and lavender blossoms. Furnishings chosen with a woman in mind. Opulent curtains. An abundance of pillows on the bed, the chairs, and the couches. No expense had been spared.
She hated to touch anything. Especially since this room was not meant for her. This glorious space was for Teague’s future wife. His thoughtfulness for every detail touched her. Had he selected everything himself? Surely not. Surely he had hired someone to finish out the room.
