“Aye. Enemy to the MacPher—” Duncan clamped his hand over the stupid woman’s mouth and dared not let go.
Tearloch took Kenna by the shoulders and pulled her closer. “I must needs be clear, then, my lady.” He leaned down until their noses touched. “Ye’ll be havin’ no other duties.” He suddenly bent and grabbed her around the thighs, threw her over his shoulder, and strode for the great hall.
Duncan and his hand held the line.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The sound of a gathering, curious crowd grew louder with each of Tearloch’s steps, and Kenna realized they were headed for yet another audience—the last thing she wanted. To avoid it, she could do one of three things: kick and scream; beg; or pretend to swoon.
She had tried humbling herself to win over bossy woman, but after a long hour of scrubbing and scalding her hands, she was thanked with a blow to the face. No. There would be no more groveling. She would literally fight her way out of Lochahearn, wear them all down until they begged her to go.
Or ran her through.
And now, she would not feign weakness just so her laird and master could prove himself laird and master over her. So, just as they entered the hall, she began to kick her legs and beat against his buttocks, shrieking with all the breath she could eek into her lungs whilst being bounced on a rock-hard shoulder.
“Put me down, you barbarian. Let me go!”
Tearloch answeredKenna’s outrage by swinging his left arm around and whacking her bottom. The satisfying smack echoed through the hall and she stilled immediately, as did their audience, but only for a moment. Hoots and applause escorted Tearloch up the stairs. No doubt the most enthusiastic calls came from the twenty men who had bled to save her only to spend two days chasing after her.
Even Jamie beat his tankard on the table while he whooped.
At the balustrade, Tearloch turned and addressed them with her derrière on display. “There will be a guard outside my chamber around the clock. Duncan, set a schedule for rotation every two hours. I want everyone alert at their posts!”
Monroe shouted, “Even when ye’re inside, Commander?”
“Especially when I’m inside.”
Renewed hoots of laughter and applause rivaled their earlier celebration.
He felt the soiled gown between two fingers. “I need hot water. Lots of it!”
Inside his chambers,the tub and cold water had been removed. The windows had been shuttered and now a healthy fire burned in the hearth and had already started to warm the room.
Tearloch felt the lass stiffen long before he lowered her to her feet. Once balanced, she stood very still, waiting for her fate. He had to lift her chin to see her eyes, and once again, they were filled with defiance tempered with a touch of fear. Though he wanted to reassure her, he wondered if a little fear was needed.
A soft whistle came from outside the door, announcing the arrival of the sentries and she blushed. “Will I not have a chamber in the servant’s quarters?” She folded her arms as an absurd barrier between them.
“Nay.” He crossed the room to sit on a chest and began removing his boots.
“You are angry I left the room.”
He could tell by the way she transferred her weight back and forth that she was trying not to rub her sore bum. He was immediately contrite. She’d sworn she would never be beaten again, and she’d been struck twice that night—once by him! He would remember to apologize later.
“Nay, I was displeased until we found ye.” There was no anger left in his voice. “Then I was wroth with the woman for daring to touch ye. And, aye, ye were supposed to stay in this room. Not to keep ye captive, but to protect ye.”
“I would have stayed had I been told. I would have worn the clean things had I been told. But the women and the guards had no reason to be kind. And now, less reason. More people with love for the MacPherson clan, I assume.”
“Aye. And ye’re a stranger yet. Give it time.” He pulled both his shirt and his tunic over his head together, then laid them across the larger chest. He didn’t like her silence, until he saw that she was distracted by his bare skin and his short breeks. He had never been fond of wearing hose. They made him overly hot.
“Yer leine,” she stammered, pointing to the chest. “Why?”
“Because I do not wish to get it wet.”
“You have already bathed. Obviously.”
“Yes.”
“You cannot mean to have another?”
