Let him believe he had conquered her resistance and gained a victory. Men liked victory in both war and in love.
Conal Bruce watched Adair as she cleared the board.
She was very fair. She was wearing a new garment, a simple gown with no discernible waistline, a square neckline, and long, fitted sleeves. It had been obviously fashioned using her old gown, and was the dress of a lady, not a servant. The color was discreet, a dark red.
The boy, Jack, was helping her. He hurried away with the plates and goblets as Adair bent to sweep the crumbs from the high board. He could see the faint swell of her breasts as she worked, her eyes averted from his.
Reaching out with a single finger, he pushed the digit into the valley separating her breasts. “Look at me,” he commanded her. The finger was enclosed between the warm flesh. Their eyes met. “How long will you make me wait, Adair?” he asked her quietly.
“My lord”—she found her voice was shaking as she spoke—“I am no whore.”
“You are a woman who has known a man,” he said low. “How long have you been widowed now? A year?
Do you not long for passion again, Adair? Or perhaps your good lord did not know how to give you pleasure.
Perhaps he only took it.”
“Andrew was a good man,” she defended her dead husband.
“I will be good to you too,” he promised her, and he withdrew the finger from between her breasts even as he took her hand in his. “Such a little hand, Adair, and it is so cold. Let me warm it for you.” He took the hand between his own.
For a brief moment she let herself enjoy the sensation of being seduced, but then she told him, “You are very fortunate to have found me, my lord. I am a lady, as your mother, God assoil her good soul, was.” Adair crossed herself piously. “I have restored your household to a semblance of order, and I will keep it that way. You were wise to expend your silver purchasing Elsbeth and me.”
“And now I would have value for my coin,” he said, amused by her desperate attempt to turn him from his purpose. “I did not buy a housekeeper when I purchased you, and you cannot be so foolish as to believe that I did. And no one else thought it.”
“Are you so in need of a woman that you must buy one for your hall?” Adair demanded to know. “I told you that I am no whore.”
“Nay, you are not,” he agreed. “But you will be my mistress, my honey love. I saw your reaction when I took your hand in mine.”
“I do not know what you mean,” Adair desperately denied.
“Aye, you do,” he said, and he pulled her into his lap.
Adair struggled to rise. “Please, my lord,” she whispered. “Do not shame me before the others, I beg you.”
She could feel tears pricking at the back of her eyelids.
She wasn’t ready for this. Not yet! Not tonight!
“Be easy, my honey love,” he told her. “None other will accost you. They know that you are mine alone.” He held her against him, stroking her dark hair. “Put your head on my shoulder, Adair, and let me love you.”
She relaxed briefly against him, and his grip on her loosened. Feeling it, Adair pulled away from him and fled the hall and down the stairs into the kitchens.
Duncan Armstrong and Murdoc Bruce burst out
laughing, but their mirth was cut short, for the laird arose and followed after Adair. His look was black, his face determined.
“God’s blood,” Murdoc said low. “He means to have her tonight.”
“He’s fallen in love with her,” Duncan replied softly.
“Our brother has fallen in love with his English slave.
Only love would drive a man to that kind of madness.”
Adair heard him behind her. She practically fell into Elsbeth’s arms at the bottom of the stairs. “Nursie!” was all she could say. And then the pair were almost bowled over by the laird as he reached the bottom of the staircase.
Elsbeth immediately grasped the situation. “Now, there, my lord, perhaps this is not the best time for what you want.” Her arms tightened about the now sobbing girl. “There, there, my chick. All will be well. Nursie is here for you.”
