A wry smile curved her mouth. “It seems I have. Rather ungallant of them, wouldn’t you say?”
He found himself returning her smile. “I would apologize for the interruption, but I think in this case it was well timed. Am I right to think that the queen thanked the knight in a way you’d rather not share with the children?”
She blushed again and nodded, lifting her gaze to his. “I think Deidre guessed that I was doing a little editing of the more ‘romantic’ parts of the story.”
She started to climb down off the table, but he stopped her and circled her waist with his hands. Her dark eyes locked on his. His skin sizzled with awareness. The memories of last night’s lovemaking were still fresh in his mind—and in his body. “Allow me,” he said huskily. He lifted her off as if she weighed next to nothing—which she did—and brought her against him, lowering her slowly to the ground and savoring the moment of connection as her body slid against his.
Heat washed over him. She was so soft and smelled so sweet. Just her nearness made him harden against her. “So how did the queen show her gratitude?” he asked softly, unable to resist.
Her cheeks might end up permanently stained dark pink if he didn’t stop teasing her. But damn, it was adorable.
“I—I,” she stammered.
He tried not to laugh. She might no longer be a maid, but she was still enchantingly innocent. So different from anyone he’d known before. He held her a moment longer than was necessary, more than tempted to carry her back into their chamber. He released her. “I must go,” he said firmly, more to remind himself than anything else. “I have duties I must attend to.”
He spoke sharply, and she took it as a criticism—though it wasn’t meant as one. Her face fell. “You must think you’ve found a slattern for a wife. I was about to polish the silver, but—”
“You decided to practice your swordsmanship instead?”
This time his teasing did not work. “The children,” she twisted her hands, “they were so eager for the rest of the story and I’m afraid I got carried away. I will return to my duties at once.”
She looked so crushed, he found himself taking her hand, wanting to reassure her. “I don’t think you lazy at all. You’re doing a fine job as chatelaine.”
Her eyes widened. “Do you think so? Truly?”
It was obvious that his opinion mattered a great deal to her. “Aye, truly.”
He realized it was the truth. Shewasdoing a good job.
Christina had been here only a short while, but she’d slipped into her new role as lady of the keep with ease. Only now that he thought about it did he realize how difficult that must have been. She was young, inexperienced, and surrounded by strangers. But she’d summoned up enough authority to garner the respect of his clansmen. She must have, or they wouldn’t be doing her bidding. Now that he thought about it, the few times they’d shared a meal, he recalled the servants bringing the platters of food to her first for approval, and beaming when it was given. They not only respected her, they liked her.
That wasn’t all. There was something different about the keep since she’d arrived. Something other than the tapestries and changes that she’d pointed out that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It felt warmer. He frowned, wondering if she was burning too much peat.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
He shook his head, still frowning. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but he would check with the seneschal next time about the peat. “Nay, I must go.”
The men were waiting for him. But for some reason he wasn’t as eager to return to the training as he had been a few minutes ago.
He turned to leave, and a bubble of desperation rose up inside her. This was the first time she’d had a chance to talk to him during the day since he’d returned to find her in the kitchens covered with ash. Apparently, finding her in less-than-flattering circumstances was beginning to be a habit. But she didn’t care. She was starved to learn more about him and didn’t want to waste the opportunity.
“Wait!” He turned back with a perplexed look on his face and she felt like a fool. Heat rose up her cheeks. Her hands twisted in her skirts. “I …” What was she going to say? “I don’t know what you like,” she blurted.
“What I like?”
“To eat,” she explained, feeling ridiculous. She couldn’t even manage a coherent sentence when he was around. She blushed and stammered and acted like a silly lovesick girl. The moment he stepped into the room she was just that. “I should like to know your preferences when I go over the week’s meals with the cook.”
“Cormac allows you to tell him what to prepare?” He sounded incredulous.
Her brows furrowed. “Shouldn’t he?”
“He should, but Cormac is a stubborn old goat. He makes what he wants and doesn’t listen to anyone.”
She smiled sweetly. “Except me.”
His eyes narrowed on her for a long pause. “How much did it cost you?”
She put her hand on her heart with mock outrage. “I’m deeply offended.”
