His hand tightened fractionally on her knee, and she saw his jaw clench.
Good. She wasn’t the only one affected by this.
“The festival is in a week,” Murdock announced suddenly, his voice carrying across the table. “The council has planned it to celebrate our betrothal. The whole clan will gather.”
“How wonderful!” Sheena beamed. “We havenae had a proper celebration in years!”
“Aye, well.” Murdock’s hand finally left Leona’s knee, and she felt the loss like a physical ache. “Lady Leona and I will visit the village tomorrow. Let the people see her properly.”
“Just the two of ye?” Hamish asked, that mischievous glint back in his eyes. “How cozy.”
“Someone needs to stay and oversee Rufus’s trainin',” Murdock said flatly. “That would be ye.”
“Of course, me Laird. Happy to help.” Hamish’s grin suggested he knew exactly why Murdock wanted to be alone with Leona.
The meal continued, but Leona found she couldn’t taste anything she ate. Her entire focus was on the man beside her, on the occasional brush of his arm against hers, on the way she could feel his gaze on her even when she wasn’t looking at him.
By the time the last course was cleared, Leona felt wound tight as a bowstring, every nerve ending alive and singing.
“If ye’ll excuse us,” Murdock said, standing abruptly. “I need to discuss the arrangements for tomorrow with Lady Leona. In private.”
Knowing looks were exchanged around the table, but no one protested.
Leona rose on unsteady legs, her face burning.
“Good night, everyone,” she managed. “Thank ye for the warm welcome.”
She followed Murdock out of the dining hall, feeling the weight of curious eyes on her back. He moved through the corridors with purposeful strides, and she had to hurry to keep up.
“Where are we goin'?” she asked.
“Me study. We need to talk.”
But when they reached the study, and he closed the door behind them, the sound echoing in the quiet space, Leona wasn’t sure talking was what either of them had in mind.
Murdock moved to stand behind his desk, as if the furniture could provide some barrier between them. But his eyes never left hers, dark and intense and hungry.
“The festival is in a week,” he began, his voice rough. “Before that, we need to visit the village. Tomorrow. Just the two of us.”
“Why just us?” Leona asked.
“Because we need to appear as a couple. A real couple.” He leaned forward, palms flat on the desk. “And we cannae do that with an audience watching our every move.”
“So we’re going alone?”
“Aye. And before we go, I’ll give ye a tour of the castle. Show ye the important places, the layout. We’ll need privacy for that.”
“Privacy,” Leona repeated, her mouth dry. “To set our story straight.”
“Among other things.”
There it was again. That weighted phrase that promised more than just talking.
Leona moved closer to the desk, her heart pounding. “What other things?”
Murdock’s jaw clenched. “Ye ken what other things, lass. Daenae play coy.”
“I’m nae playin'' anythin.” She reached the desk and placed her own hands on the surface, leaning forward to mirror his position. They were separated by mere feet now, tension crackling between them. “Ye’re the one being vague.”
