Behind her, Dunn chuckled. “Isnae that uncomfortable?”
“I think it’s fer the best.”
“I think it’s uncomfortable.”
Elayne cursed quietly under her breath—another undignified gesture, but it seemed Dunn had that effect on her. “I am askin’ ye tae keep yer clothes on. Dinnae make me ask again.”
She waited for a few moments when Dunn gave her no reply, but then she heard him simply sigh and move to the bed. When she turned to look, he was still clothed, spreading his arms as if to tell her he had done as told. Only then did Elayne join him, herself still fully clothed, but she made sure to keep as much space between them as she could, almost falling off the side of the bed to avoid him.
Perhaps it was silly, especially after the kiss, but it was that kiss that made the distance now absolutely necessary. Elayne didn’t want to slip up like that again. She had to stay as far away from Dunn as she could.
“I willnae bite ye,” Dunn said, amused. “Ye dinnae have tae sleep over there.”
“I’m perfectly fine,” said Elayne stubbornly. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Elayne.”
The last thing she heard from Dunn was a soft laugh, followed by his quiet, even breaths as he fell asleep. Elayne knew she wouldn’t have such luck. The night ahead of her would be a long one.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Aweek passed before Elayne could find the right moment to speak about the things Dunn had told her with Isobel in a public place, where not only servants, but even her father and Laird McCoy could hear them. It had been a torturous week, one she had had to spend with Dunn while at the same time trying to deny her attraction to him, to push her feelings as deep down as they would go. Sharing a bed proved to be a more difficult task than she could have ever imagined, and though she did her best to keep her distance from him while they slept, it soon became apparent that they both tended to drift towards each other in the middle of the night. In the past three days, they had woken up with their limbs tangled together, holding onto each other.
They had never spoken about it. She was glad that Dunn didn’t tease her or try to provoke her, at least, and that he was kind enough to let it all slide.
That morning, her father had called Dunn to the training grounds. Naturally, Dunn had had no choice but to accept theinvitation, and as much as Elayne feared the training session would go terribly one way or another, she also recognized the opportunity that it was. Laird McCoy had stayed with them for the entirety of the week and didn’t seem to have any intention of leaving, so Elayne could tell Isobel everything in his presence now, as they sat by the training grounds and watched the men spar.
It was a nice day, albeit a little chilly. The sun shone through fluffy clouds, illuminating patches of earth beneath their feet. Elayne and Isobel sat on a bench as the two lairds, Dunn, and Blaine sparred among the other soldiers, all of them pretending that the aggression they were exhibiting towards each other was normal.
Only Blaine seemed to have a firm handle on the situation, stepping in whenever Laird Macgillivray or Laird McCoy became too violent towards Dunn, and even in the rare occasions Dunn seemed to forget himself and didn’t hold back. Without him, Elayne was certain Dunn would end up injured at best.
Though Elayne had already told Isobel everything in private to prepare her for this conversation, she now recounted everything once more, making sure to give all the details Dunn had instructed her to give. As she spoke, her gaze kept drifting to him, to her father, and to Laird McCoy, watching them and their reactions.
She had no doubt they could all hear her. Even if they couldn’t catch everything of what she was saying, they would hear enough to form their own versions of the event in their heads. Itwould be enough. Anything they missed, they would surely hear from the servants sooner or later.
“An’ then I… took him in me mouth,” said Elayne quietly when Laird McCoy came close enough to hear them. Elayne knew he had heard her when she saw the blood rush to his face, turning his complexion a deep crimson. His lips curled back into a snarl as he turned to look at Dunn, eyes narrowing, fingers tightening around the handle of his blade to the point that his knuckles turned bone-white.
Elayne could only hope those weapons were dull enough to cause no damage. Laird McCoy was murderous as he advanced towards Dunn, who assumed a fighting stance, preparing himself for the inevitable.
Neither Dunn nor anyone else in the training grounds had expected Laird McCoy to march up to him and swing his fist, catching Dunn by surprise. The muffled sound of the impact had Elayne standing on her feet, rushing towards Dunn with Isobel close behind, her eyes wide with horror as she saw Laird McCoy try to deal blow after blow to him. The only thing that stopped him were Dunn’s arms, protecting his head and torso against the vicious attack.
“Enough!” Blaine shouted as he grabbed the laird and shoved him back, stepping between him and Dunn. “Forgive me, Laird McCoy, but this has gone too far. Dunn is our guest just as much as ye are an’ I will have tae ask ye tae show him the same courtesy that ye would show any o’ us.”
Laird McCoy spat crudely on the ground. “He doesnae deserve the courtesy. If yer laird had any sense or any regard fer me, he would have already had his head.”
Before Laird Macgillivray could react to that, Laird McCoy stomped off the training grounds, followed by a few of his men who were there. His absence didn’t allow the tension to dissipate, though. Even if he wasn’t there, Elayne’s father was and he was glaring at her with such cruelty that she couldn’t help but think he was weighing his option to kill her against the benefits of keeping her alive.
Would he dae such a thing? Would he kill his own daughter?
The thing that frightened her the most was that she truly didn’t know the answer to that question. Her father had made it perfectly clear that she only had value for as long as she was useful to him, and the moment he could get rid of her, he would do so. Perhaps now she was more trouble than she was worth and he wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of her in a way different from giving her away for marriage.
“Dunn!” Elayne cried, grabbing his shoulders to take a better look at him. “Did he hurt ye?”
“I’m fine,” Dunn said. Elayne could see the last few traces of rage leave his body as he relaxed against her, letting her brush her hands over his jaw and cheekbone as if she could divine his injuries just from touch alone. “Dinnae fash. I’ve been hurt worse.”
There was already a bruise forming on his cheek and Elayne knew it would soon turn black and achy. A roiling rage at Laird McCoy’s actions gripped her, too, and she turned to her father to demand reparations, but her gaze fell on an empty space. He was gone without saying a word, and perhaps, in retrospect, that was for the best.
“I can only ask fer yer forgiveness,” Blaine said, standing a respectful distance away from the two of them. “I should have kent Laird McCoy would become violent but I hoped he wouldnae show it in front o’ so many people.”
