She flushed when she saw Evie looking at her with a knowing grin. Chloe’s frown deepened.
“You were right about Bruce, Eve,” she said. “I should have listened to you.”
“For once, that’s something I don’t like being right about.”
“He’s going to come after me, isn’t he?” Chloe fiddled with the wooden spoon.
“Let’s hope not. And let’s not speak of that anymore. I have news.”
Chloe’s head snapped up to her. Her cheeks were rosy, a dreamy look on her face.
“What is it?”
Evie, still beaming, said, “I’m pregnant.”
She wanted to be shocked about that but she wasn’t. Her sister practically beamed when she talked about Callum. It was clear Evie was happy and madly in love with her laird.
There was a small pang of jealousy that went through her. She wanted to have that kind of happiness with someone—she thought that someone was Bruce—and now she wasn’t so sure. She wanted to fall madly in love, too.
She shoved aside the jealousy as she grinned. “I knew it.”
“Oh, sure. How did you know?
Chloe rolled her eyes. “Sis, you’re glowing.”
“Oh. Well…” She cast her eyes downward and blushed. “Maybe I am.”
“You are,” she insisted. “How am I supposed to throw you a baby shower in the fourteenth century?”
Evie giggled. “You don’t.”
Then something else occurred to her. “What about medical care? This is practically the dark ages.”
“There’s a midwife,” Evie said, as though it were the most normal thing in the world. “It’s not like I have any other choice.”
“I know, but I worry.”
“You always did worry about me, but you don’t have to.”
“Yes, I do. I will always worry about you because you worked yourself to the bone putting me through college. I wish there was some way to repay you for that.” She fiddled with a torn piece of the bread bowl.
“You being here is all the payment I need. Come on. Let’s get you to bed. You look exhausted.”
She pushed up from the table and stood, her chair raking back. Chloe did the same. Together, they left the great hall and headed up the stairs. She still got a bit turned around in the keep, but she was starting to get the hang of the place. The bedchambers for the family were in the east tower on the second floor. The west tower hosted the tapestry room.
At her door, they bid each other good night. Chloe pushed inside her room and found all the candles blazing. Someone had set a fire in the hearth for her, warming the room. She was glad because she certainly didn’t know how to do that. She kicked off her shoes and stripped down to her shift, falling into the covers. She was too tired and drowsy to change.
The last thought she had was how she was going to get that stone back from Malcolm without him knowing.
***
The woman had darted from his room as if her skirts were on fire. No lass had ever been so quick to get away from him, especially after sharing a kiss such as that. He growled and fought the urge to kick the table with the food, pitcher, and tankard on it.
“I don’t like kissing men with beards,” he repeated, his voice high as he tried to mimic her. “Well, lass, ye sure have a funny way of showing it.”
He was certain she’d liked it. He wasmore than certainhe’d liked it. In fact, he wanted to do it again. As she had stood there, looking up at him with those big green eyes, he had a hard time resisting her. And her mouth…her perfect heart-shaped mouth seemed to beckon him.
He blew out a heated breath as he turned and kicked out his foot. The toe of his boot struck the leg of the chair and it toppled over with a muffled thud against the thick carpet.
