Laughter followed, and Murdock cursed under his breath. He stepped back from Leona, his hands already smoothing her skirts, fixing what he’d disheveled.
“We need to go,” he said quietly. “Separately.”
“What?” Leona’s still-foggy mind struggled to catch up.
“If we return together looking like this…” His eyes raked over her, taking in her swollen lips, her flushed cheeks, the marks he’d left on her throat. “Everyone will ken what we’ve been doing.”
Heat flooded her face. “Oh.”
“I’ll go first. Give it a few minutes, then follow.” He pressed one more quick kiss to her lips. “Fix yer hair. Try to look less thoroughly ravished.”
Heat flooded her cheeks, even as indignation sparked. “Maybe ye shouldnae have thoroughly ravished me then.”
The laugh that escaped him was low and rich, genuine amusement lighting up his face in a way that made him look years younger.
“Fair point, lass. Fair point.”
Before she could say anything more, before she could tell him she didn’t want to be separated from him, he melted into the shadows and was gone.
Leona sagged against the tree, her legs still unsteady, her body still humming with aftershocks. She raised a trembling hand to her lips, touching them wonderingly.
That had been…
She had no words. No frame of reference for what had just happened. But as she stood there in the darkness, listening to the distant sounds of the festival, one thing became clear.
This arrangement, this fake betrothal that was meant to solve practical problems, wasn’t fake anymore. Maybe it had never been.
And that realization was more terrifying than anything else that had happened tonight.
Because if this were real, if these feelings were real, then she had far more to lose than just her freedom.
She had her heart to protect.
And judging by the way it raced in her chest at the memory of Murdock’s touch, at the echo of his words,I want everythin', it wouldn’t be easy.
It wouldn’t be easy at all.
16
The festival was still in full swing, though some of the older folks had begun to drift toward their homes. Children ran through the square, sticky with sweets and drunk on the freedom of celebration. Music still played, though the tempo had slowed, couples swaying together in the firelight.
Leona spotted Sheena near the food tables and made her way over, needing something to do with her hands, some excuse for her absence.
“There ye are, dear!” Sheena winked at her. “We were startin' to wonder if ye’d gotten lost.”
“I just needed some air,” Leona said, hoping her voice sounded steadier than she felt. “It’s been such a wonderful day, but a bit overwhelmin'.”
“Of course, of course.” Sheena’s eyes were knowing, but she didn’t press. “The Laird disappeared for a bit, too. Strange, that.”
Heat crept up Leona’s neck. “Is that so?”
“Aye. Though he’s back now, speaking with the councilmen near the platform.” Sheena handed her a cup of cider. “Here, drink this. Ye look flushed.”
Leona accepted gratefully, the cool liquid soothing her parched throat. She was just setting down the empty cup when a commotion near the edge of the square caught her attention.
A guard on horseback had appeared, his mount lathered with sweat, his expression urgent. People parted to let him through, conversations dying down as he dismounted and began looking around frantically.
“Me Laird!” His voice carried across the square. “Me Laird, there ye are! I searched for ye everywhere.”
