“I have said that the girl willnae be hurt whilst she is in my care.”
“Curse his eyes,” Leith hissed after his father had left.
“All is not as it seems,” Parlan said. “The man does care for the girl.”
Leith stared at Parlan as if he had lost all his senses. “How can ye think that after what he has just done? The choice to be made was not the heir over the maid but the maid first for she is most at risk.”
“I saw his face when she first came into his sight. Something else holds him back from revealing his love. There is a reason for the way he acts. I intend to find out what it is. I ken it isnae a simple one. Rest, Leith,” he said as he too left the room.
Parlan found Lagan and Malcolm lurking outside the stables. “Where has the lass fled to?”
“She is inside with that beast of hers,” replied Malcolm. “We werenae sure whether to leave her be.”
“I will see to her. See if our guests have any needs. They intend to leave come the dawn. Also, see that I am left alone with her.”
Aimil knew he was there even before he sat down and took her into his arms. It did not seem strange to seek comfort in the arms of the Black Parlan who was her captor and should have been her enemy. He was a strong solid haven, one that she needed.
Parlan lay back on the straw with her held firmly in his arms. It puzzled him that he should feel such a strong need to ease her pain. Even stranger was that her pain seemed to be his. He was sharing it whether he wanted to or not.
“Ye are fair close to drowning me, lassie,” he grumbled, hoping that he could tease her out of her grief.
“I dinnae cry verra much.” She sniffed loudly as she fought to control her tears. “’Tis a weak thing to do.”
“Och, weel, ye have a good reason for them. There isnae any faulting ye for this. Are ye afraid to stay here?” he murmured.
“Nay. Not now, that is. That could change if ye start roaring and stomping about,” she said, and smiled against his chest.
Rolling so that she was beneath him, he feigned a glare when he saw her impish, if trembling, grin. She was the first woman to indulge in teasing with him, and it delighted him. He was not sure why but many assumed his nature to be as dark as his visage.
“Roaring and stomping, is it, wench?” he growled, and nuzzled her neck in a way that made her giggle.
Suddenly, she grew serious. “Ye would think that he would fret over the honor of his name. He doesnae seem to worry about what ye might do, which ye have already done, but he doesnae ken that ye have. But he doesnae seem to care that ye might do what ye have already done.”
It was difficult but Parlan managed to keep from laughing. “Am I to understand that great jumble of words?” He did laugh when she frowned, rethought her words and then laughed. “He does care, lass. He had me give my word that I wouldnae hurt ye.”
For a moment she looked at him frowning slightly as she thought over his words then she shook her head. “That was verra sneaky of ye, Parlan MacGuin.”
“Aye, it was.” He grinned when she laughed at his air of immense satisfaction. “Have I hurt you, little one?”
“Nay, not in body though I ought to be sick with shame for becoming your whore.”
“Ye are not my whore. Ye are my lover. Dinnae frown, ’tisnae the same at all.” He unlaced her jerkin then began on her shirt.
“I dinnae understand how ye can think that but it matters not. If I must lay beneath a man, I would far rather it was ye than Rory.”
He pushed open her shirt, finding the tips of her full, high breasts already taut and calling for his touch. “Ye will never lie beneath Rory Fergueson.”
“I must. I am to be his wife. Oh,” she sighed with pleasure when his mouth latched hungrily onto a breast. “We cannae do this here.”
“Ye are always saying we cannae and I must show ye that we can.” He lifted his head to stare at her. “Ye willnae be wed to Rory.”
“How can ye stop it?”
“I can and I will. Now, hush, and let me show ye what else we can do though ye will say we cannae.”
Chapter Seven
“I cannae believe it,” gasped Giorsal, her gaze fixed with disbelieving accusation upon her father. “How could ye do it?”
