Grateful for the reprieve, she was careful not to wake him as she slid away from the warmth of his body, stood, and straightened her clothes. All she could think about was getting out of there. She didn’t want to face him again. Not here, and not at the feast.
This had been a mistake.
Kenneth Sutherland wasn’t like her husband at all. He was far more dangerous. Atholl had never bothered to try to seduce her. Kenneth Sutherland seduced with every long look, every gentle touch, and every heart-pounding kiss.
Would she ever learn?
She needed to leave. Not just this room, but Scotland. Before she forgot how to be content with what she had and yearned for things that would only make her miserable. Again.
Seven
Kenneth woke slowly, trying to clear the fog from his mind. But his head felt as if someone had sheared a sheep inside it. Opening his eyes, he shot upright, startled by his surroundings. By the shards of light streaming through the planks of the door.
He winced at the knife of pain in his side.
Hell. Covering the offending area with his hand, he braced himself as he stood. Whatever dulling effects last night had worked on his pain, they were gone.
Last night. He realized three things at once: it was morning, he’d missed the feast, and he was alone.
He swore, not knowing what angered him the most.
What the hell had happened to him? It felt as though he’d been knocked out. The moment he’d closed his eyes, he’d slipped into a deep sleep. He hadn’t slept that solidly in years.
His mouth fell in a grim line when he reached down to pick up his tunic and saw a swatch of dark green silk. He knew what had happened to him.Shehad happened to him.
Why in Hades had she run off without waking him?
In many cases he would be relieved to wake up and find himself alone after a night of lovemaking, but damn it, this wasn’t one of them. He vowed to go back to uncomplicated and eager-to-please just as soon as he was done with her.
He jerked on his tunic, wrapped the plaid back around his shoulders—the fire in the brazier had gone out hours ago, and it was bloody cold in here—and picked up the offending veil.
He and Lady Mary were going to have a nice long talk about what he was going to expect from her—a little common courtesy, for one thing. And she wasn’t going to run off like that again.Hewould decide when it was time to leave, damn it.
He stalked out of the library, slamming the door behind him, and headed toward the Hall to look for her. But it seemed the morning meal had ended some time ago. There were only a few people milling about, and none was the one he wanted to see.
Just what the hell time was it?
He swore again. The morning was quickly going from bad to worse. If the morning meal was over, that meant he didn’t have much time until the wrestling competition got under way. One of the most important days of his life, and he’d nearly slept through it. His anger at his wee nun was growing. She’d distracted him. And had done a bloody efficient job of it, damn it.
He grabbed a piece of bread and cheese from a tray as one of the servants passed by and washed it down with a swig of wine. As he exited the Hall, he winced, shrinking back from the head-piercing rays of sunlight that blasted him. Damn, his head felt like he’d drunk far more than a tankard of whisky. Squinting, he scanned the courtyard, and then winced again. It wasn’t because of the sun this time, but who he saw striding toward him.
“Where the hell have you been?” MacKay demanded. “I hope you have a good explanation for disappearing last night. The king was furious.”
Kenneth ignored MacKay and greeted his sister, who had come up next to him.
“Are you all right, Kenneth? You don’t look well,” Helen said.
His side hurt like hell, but he wasn’t going to tell her that with MacKay standing there. “What did you give me?” he asked. “I fell asleep and just woke up.”
“Nothing that should have—” She stopped, biting her lip. “Did you drink any wine or whisky last night by chance?”
“I drink wine or whisky every night. What difference does that make?”
She looked up at him guiltily. “I must have forgotten to mention that mixing the draught with wine or whisky might make you a tad sleepy.”
Kenneth’s mouth tightened. “Aye, you seem to have forgotten that part.”
Well, at least he knew why he’d slept so hard. Although he suspected there was another cause that had affected him as much as the whisky. He’d slept the dead sleep of a man who’d been well satisfied.Toowell satisfied. Instead of worrying about what had happened to his wee wanton, he should be preparing for the Games.
