Alpin had promised her a key.
Before she could talk herself out of it, Mhairi grabbed her shawl and wrapped it tightly around her shoulders. The borrowed nightdress Freya had given her was modest enough- high-necked and long-sleeved, with a robe over it, but she still felt exposed as she stepped into the corridor.
The castle was quieter at night. Torches burned in sconces along the walls, casting flickering shadows that made her heart race. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear voices—guards changing shifts, probably, or servants finishing their evening duties.
She had no idea where Alpin's chamber was.
Mhairi walked until she found a maid carrying linens, a woman perhaps ten years older than herself with tired eyes and capable hands.
"Excuse me," Mhairi said, keepin' her voice low. "Could ye... could ye tell me where Laird MacDougal's chambers are?"
The maid's eyebrows rose slightly, but she didn’t comment. Just pointed down the corridor. "Up the stairs, third floor. Last door on the right. Ye cannae miss it, it's the only one with the MacDougal crest carved into the wood."
"Thank ye."
The maid nodded and continued on her way, though Mhairi could feel her curious gaze following her as she walked toward the stairs.
She walked quietly up the stone steps. The third floor was even quieter than the second, with fewer torches and longer stretches of shadow. Mhairi's pulse hammered in her ears as she made her way down the corridor.
There, at the end, a door larger than the others, with an intricately carved crest showing a stag and crossed swords.
She stopped in front of it, suddenly uncertain.
She knocked. Just then she asked herself, what was she doing. It was late. Alpin may have been asleep. She should have waited until morning, ask him about the key when he wasnae?—
The door opened.
Mhairi gasped and stumbled backward.
Alpin stood in the doorway, and for a moment, her brain simply... stopped.
He was shirtless.
Completely, gloriously shirtless.
The firelight from his chamber behind him painted his skin gold, highlighting every ridge of muscle across his chest and stomach.
His fair hair was slightly mussed, like he'd been running his hands through it. And that scar on his face seemed even more prominent in the dim light, a pale slash that somehow made him look more dangerous and more beautiful at the same time.
"Mhairi?" His voice was rough with surprise. "What are ye…is somethin' wrong?"
"I—" She had to swallow twice before words would come. "I'm sorry. I didnae mean tae disturb ye. I just…I needed tae talk tae ye about something."
"Come in." He stepped back, pulling the door wider. "Whatever it is, we're nae discussin' it in the corridor."
Mhairi hesitated, very aware that she was standing in a nightdress in front of a half-naked man. But the alternative was explaining herself where any passing servant could hear.
She stepped inside.
Alpin's chamber was larger than hers, with a massive bed that looked like it could sleep four people comfortably. There were weapons mounted on the walls, swords and dirks displayed like art. Maps covered a large desk near the window. And the fire in the hearth was banked low, providing just enough light to see by.
"So." Alpin closed the door and leaned against it, arms crossed over that bare chest. A smile tugged at his mouth. "Tae what dae I owe the pleasure of a late night visit from a beautiful lass in her nightclothes?"
Heat flooded Mhairi's face. "I'm nae…this isnae what it looks like."
"Relax, lass. I'm teasin'." But his eyes were warm as they studied her face. "What's wrong? Truly?"
"The door," Mhairi blurted out. "Me chamber door. It daesnae have a lock."
