I need her,he thought, swallowing back panic.She’s made more headway with Alaina in the past few days than I have managed in a full year. She must stay with me.
Megan placed her hand in his, and he flinched. Her palm was warm and a little rough, with calluses on the sides of her fingers that one might expect from a warrior, somebody who was always swinging axes and swords, and always had an arrow or dagger to hand. Afighter.
He forced himself to move, hauling her up to settle on the saddle in front of him. It wouldn’t be a comfortable trip for everybody, but itwouldbe faster than walking.
Perhaps it was something he should have thought of earlier, but Ryder realized to his chagrin that the position would leave her leaning back against him, his chest curving against her back. If he weren’t careful, his hips would press up against hers.
Wonderful,he thought, resigned, and angled his hips away.Maybe I should have made the lass walk after all.
Ryder signed the bottom of the letter with a flourish, then handed it over to Ewan.
He was not concentrating well on his work. They’d reached the Keep about an hour ago, and the journey had been torture. If he closed his eyes, he could still feel the warm suppleness of her body against his, pushed carelessly against him by the unavoidable movement of the horse.
His arousal had just about faded, but there’d been no time to attend to himself. He felt sore and sensitive, as if any further brush with his wretched betrothed would stoke the fire once again.
Unfortunately, he was Laird MacCulloch, and he could not simply drift off to his bedchamber to relieve tension whenever he felt like it. There was important work to be done.
“Take the letter straight to Laird MacAdair,” he instructed. “He will get antsy if he doesnae receive an update about his nieces soon. Have the messenger wait for a reply. I’ve asked him to visit, and perhaps this time he will come.”
Ewan lifted his eyebrows. “Ye never ken. Is he hasslin’ ye about the lasses comin’ to him again?”
“Aye, but nae too much. He’s only concerned. Anyway,” Ryder added, suddenly keen to change the subject, “how long has it been since the lassies returned from the dressmaker’s?”
“About an hour. They’re up in Alaina’s room now, tryin’ them on. Flora says that the gowns are beautiful.”
Ryder nodded, getting to his feet. “For the price I paid, I’m expectin’ them to be made of solid gold. I’ll join them, I reckon. After that, I might bathe in the loch. I’m too warm.”
Ewan gave him a strange look at that, and Ryder pretended not to notice. It wasn’twarmat all. The rain had eased up, but the wind still blew stiffly, clawing its way around the Keep.
So why do I feel as though there’s a fire in me chest, eatin’ me up?
He had the answer, but didn’t particularly want to think about it. Ewan was still staring at him, brow furrowed, and Ryder pointedly avoided his gaze.
“Is there anythin’ else, me Laird?” Ewan asked.
Ryder cleared his throat. “Nay, thank ye.”
Minutes later, Ryder found himself climbing the narrow, spiral staircase up to Alaina’s room. As he approached, the guards jumped to attention. There were three of them, two of them soldiers he’d known from previous battles, and one young, eager-eyed boy of about seventeen. He was young for proper duty, but it was only sentry duty, after all. There weren’t many mistakes he could makehere. Ryder gave them each a nod and a faint smile, then tapped on the door.
There was a momentary silence inside.
“Whoever it is, go away,” Alaina snapped.
“It’s Ry, silly!” Sophie squealed, and a moment later the door jolted open. Sophie stood there, beaming at him. She snatched his hand and towed him inside.
“Ye must see our dresses,” she said fervently. “Megan hasnae tried hers on yet.”
Alaina’s room was always a mess, despite poor Flora’s best efforts. Flora sat in the window seat, her feet propped up on acushion, concentrating on her sewing. She flashed Ryder a quick smile. Alaina sat at the end of her bed—sheets rumpled as always—and scowled at him.
Megan was sitting on a low stool by the fire, poker in hand. She avoided Ryder’s gaze. Perhaps that was for the best.
“Why did ye take Megan away?” Alaina demanded. “We wanted her to come with us to Mistress Weatherby’s.”
“Megan and I had things to discuss,” Ryder responded.
Alaina scowled. “That’s what she said.”
“Look at me dress,” Sophie piped up, and pounced upon a pile of material stacked up on Alaina’s bed. She picked up a dress made of dark blue velvet, with a low waist and long, flowing sleeves. It was decorated with gilt and what appeared to be gold thread.
