“Lady.” He smiled. “Have I unsettled you?”
“Nae,” she lied. “Not at all.”
“I am glad.” He lowered his hand and stepped back, his withdrawal leaving her breathless.
Stunned, more than a little confused, and yearning for more of the magic he’d shown her.
She lifted her own hand to her nape and skimmed her fingertips over the place where he’d touched her.
The skin there still tingled.
Equally disturbing, her heart hadn’t yet ceased knocking against her ribs.
“Will you apply the unguent now, Caterine?” His voice came deeper, a shade huskier than before. “Perhaps below, before the fire in your chamber?”
“I am not sure that is wise.”
“Who would object?” He arched his good brow, the look her gave her as seductive as the silken richness of his voice. “All here know I am your champion.”
“It is wrong.” She stood as if frozen, but inside, she burned, her senses awakening, licked by wicked flames. “My bedchamber is-”
“A place every lady should feel most secure,” he said, his voice compelling. “There, more than anywhere else you need ease and security, the abandonment of your cares.”
“Aye…” She nodded, not trusting herself to say more.
“Then all is well.”
“Um-h’mm…” She glanced down, smoothed her skirts, hoping to dry the dampness from her palms. Do something to compensate for her inability to form coherent words.
He suffered no such affliction.
With all the mastery of a well-practiced spell-caster, his words and his touch worked their magic. Little by little, he tore loose the locks and restraints shielding her from his charm, ripping down her defenses and casting every last shred of her resistance to the four winds.
His Englishness remained the one thing he couldn’t undo, but, much to her surprise, even that no longer seemed so annoying.
So long as he looked at her as he was doing now.
“Shall we go?” He lifted a brow, nodding once when she hitched her skirts to follow him. “Come, then,” he said, leading her along the few steps to the spy chamber’s door.
She waited as he lifted the resin torch from its bracket on the wall. Then, her chest tight with prickling anticipation, she went with him down the winding stair and through the little ante-room, pausing only long enough to retrieve the bowl of healing salve before tagging after him into her bedchamber.
He made straight for the hearth, his bold claiming of her privy quarters and the ease with which he moved through them, sending tingly anticipation spiraling through her. Just watching him breathed life into her dormant hopes and dreams, long-lost bundles of wishes winking at her from the farthest reaches of her heart.
Unbidden, the layer of years peeled away, falling aside as if time no longer existed, leaving only the fanciful girl she’d once been and the woman she was fast becoming.
A woman entranced, and very close to entering the untrodden realm of her own beckoning femininity.
Content to simply look at him, she paused a few steps into her bedchamber, allowing herself a moment to savor the wonder of him before other memories could intrude, their hold on her, sealing the door to her soul.
A door he’d cracked with ease.
Unthinkable, if ever he flung it wide.
* * *
“You said my sister charmed you,”Caterine blurted, those other memories pushing hard on the door. “I do not believe you. You are the enchanter, the one who ensnares, pulling others into your web of smooth words and moonspun magic.”
“Say you?” He cast a skeptical glance at the closed shutters stretching the length of the far wall. Nary a glimmer of moonlight fell through the wooden slats.
