She should probably fear for her life. Sleeping with the strange man that’d suddenly kissed her. However, she only felt exhilaration and harsh embarrassment that she’d let him. She knew, that had she not approved, he would not have touched her. Once those lips were on hers, she could have sold her soul. Once she was far enough from him, Grace allowed her shoulders to fall.
She let out a frustrated curse, aimed at a part of her that unceasingly throbbed for his touch. Past grievance completely forgotten, Grace slapped the flap apart and rushed inside. Her skin tingled everywhere. She secured the ropes, guaranteeingher privacy inside. Working quickly, she took off her clothes, walked to the water in the corner and brought some relief to herself. It lasted about three minutes. With every little sound, her head whipped toward the entrance.
Almost cooled, she threw on her clothes. She’d stored the dagger in one of Duncan’s bags. The one that contained dirty clothes that would be handled by the servants if she reached the castle with them. She would be one of the servants. She untied the rope, then flew to the mattress. She lay face down, curling onto herself, willing her heart to beat a little slower. Willing her senses to quit picturing the moment of their kiss. But it was futile.
She lay that way for what felt like an eternity. Her eyelids had begun to droop in spite herself when the voices outside heightened and someone stepped inside. Her senses leapt awake with awareness. Though she made no move, she tracked Duncan’s stomping steps around the tent. Through the rustling sounds, she could tell that he was undressing. Shoes were kicked off, shirt unbuttoned. Grace restrained a groan, at the memory of the hardness of the chest concealed by that shirt.
The bucket she’d used was kicked over, when he found that it was empty. Swords clanked and a curse was breathed. Once more, Duncan left the tent. Grace let out a breath and burrowed in on herself. Inadvertently, her legs rubbed together. At that point between her legs, pleasure nerves flared alive, causing her to groan.
What was this? Was she an animal?
She brought her legs together once more, and that pleasure bloomed once more. Her mouth went dry. She’d read books of people pleasuring themselves, She’d found them hidden in a maid’s room, years ago. She had tried to do what she had read but afterwards she had felt dirty and ashamed of what her father would think of his sweet girl if he ever found out. Since then, she had tried to avoid doing it again. Yet, tonight she needed relief. Repressing the hypocrisy, she claimed it as her sole option to quench the fire within her.
She poked one eye open, hands lifting her skirts.
Duncan stood before her.
Grace shrieked in shock, she tilted to the side landed right at his feet in a puddle of skirts and sheer embarrassment.
“This is a sight,” Duncan’s voice rumbled. Dignity in shreds, Grace gathered her skirts. She aimed what was left of that dignity into a fierce glace at him. “Why are ye creepin’ about?”
“This is me tent,” he reminded her in a grumpy tone. “Why are ye nae asleep? Did I make ye restless?”
“Keep dreamin’.” Grace snapped and made to sweep past him. Only Duncan blocked her way to the two thick covers that served as a mattress. He cocked his head, hooking a finger under her jaw.
“Ye should tell yer face, tis all ‘ere,” he remarked with a deeper accent. Grace slapped his finger off, but not before feeling the sparks spreading down her neck in a blaze of redness.
“Ye startled me! Move.”
He stepped aside and that was when Grace’s gaze moved downwards. Involuntarily, her breath caught. His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a massive, muscular chest. It was dotted with droplets of water, trailing into the cavities created by the dips in his abdomen. Down, where his waist narrowed… She snapped her eyes back up, to meet his amused ones. He stepped aside, lips twitching.
Very carefully, she lifted the covers, got inside and turned her back to him. After a moment, she said, “if ye laugh, ye will wake with nae tongue in the mornin’.”
“Me tongue willnae stop me from laughin’ will it?” his languid response came.
“And button that obscene shirt!”
“Ah, I am hot. Are ye nae? Tis a hot night indeed.”
“Ye jus’ had a bath.”
His voice went lower, “I wasnae talkin’ about the weather.”
Time ticked by. Grace counted along with her thundering heart. “In any case, go tae sleep.”
She forced her eyes shut. A little later, he came to lie beside her. “I dinnae mean tae make ye uncomfortable,” barely above a whisper. “I apologize. Sleep well, Jo.”
Grace’s eyes shot open at the mention of her made-up name. That and his quiet apology, she could not decide how it made her feel. She clamped her lips shut, but still, she could not sleep letting him bear all the guilt. “’Twas also me doin’. Sleep well.”
Later that night, a monster chased after Grace’s father around the forest. She was there, calling for him, yelling for him to leave the battle. But her father could not hear. Grace shouted herself hoarse. Her father, imprinted with that cursed bravery, stopped running. He turned, faced the monster. Grace tried to shove her body forward, the harder she tried, the more her feet sank deeper into the earth, her ankles shackled by fingers of grass.
Helpless, utterly useless, she watched the monster sink his sword into her father’s body. She shouted herself awake, kicking and screaming.
Strong arms rounded her, bearing the pain of her struggle, scratching and kicking. “Tis okay, tis okay…” a voice reassured above her. Holding her closer. In a dreamy haze, Grace could not tell reality from the searing dream that she’d woken from. The voice stayed; the arms never let go.
“Tis merely a dream, I’m here.”
Grace fought to catch her breath, and was surrounded by Duncan’s scent. She stopped and he released her. Her chest heaved up and down, then her shoulders started to quiver. Quietly, he sat beside her. She could not look at him. He would see her weakness. See that she was not who he thought she was. See the fact that inside, there was a part of her that believed her revenge plan was a futile, stupid mission. That she would fail. That her father would be disappointed.
