Deidre, the youngest of her three pupils at twelve, scrunched up her nose in a frown. With her blondish red hair, green eyes, and tiny features, she looked like an Irish pixie. A very rebellious Irish pixie. Of the three girls, Deidre was the hardest to keep in line. Her mother said she’d tried to run before she could walk. She also had an uncanny ability to find an opponent’s weak spot. “Wereyoupatient when you were training?”
Annie sensed the presence that had just come up behind her but did not give any indication that she knew he was there. “I was exceedingly patient. I never gave my instructor any problems and did as he bade all the time.”
That instructor made a muffled choking sound behind her, but she didn’t turn around. He better not be laughing. Corralling these three was hard enough without Niall undermining her authority—even if she was stretching the truth a hair.
Rose, the fifteen-year-old skeptic in the group, said, “Is that true, my laird? Did the lady go along with everything you said?”
Niall came around to stand beside her. Annie felt the familiar jolt in her heart that never seemed to lessen. If anything, it had only become more powerful since he’d become her husband.
Niall had grown even more handsome in the two years since they’d wed and arrived in Ireland. Her brother and Jamie Campbell had insisted on a “proper” wedding before they’d left. Lizzie and the baby had been sent for, and they’d traveled to Bute to wed at Ascog, where Niall’s sister and younger brother lived—before finding a ship to take them to Ireland a few days later.
Just ahead of the king’s men.
As Caitrina had foretold, Jamie Campbell had appeased King James by assuring him that “the outlaw” had been “driven” away and would not be causing any more problems in the Highlands.
Jamie hadn’t mentioned Ireland, where Niall caused plenty of problems for the next few months while he ousted the king’s man and retook the Lamont ancestral lands.
Thanks to Jamie’s efforts in the months since, however, Niall had finally been reconciled to the king. He was a loyal subject now. Or as loyal as a subject needed to be in “wild” lands far from the arm of the king’s authority.
She and her too-handsome husband exchanged glances, and he read her warning.Smart man. Two years of marriage had taught him a few things. She knew how to get her revenge.
Their gazes grew a little hotter as thoughts of just how good that revenge could be filled them both.
“The lady has been an exemplary pupil in all things,” Niall said.
Annie caught the reference and hoped the girls attributed the blush in her cheeks to pleasure at the compliment and not the remembered pleasure of something else.
Alys had been right. It had taken time and patience, but as the dark memories faded, Annie’s passion had returned full force. They had no need of Niall’s belt anymore—much to her wicked husband’s chagrin. She trusted Niall completely.
Deidre, however, did not share Annie’s trust. She clearly didn’t seem to believe him. Nor had she missed his less-than-direct response.
Annie cut her off before the little girl could question him further. “We will resume our practice on Monday.” She tried not to smile at the groan of displeasure from her three pupils. To say that Niall had come around on her training was an understatement. And it wasn’t because it had only taken herfivemonths to hit the target ten times in a row. When Bridgette had been set upon in the woods by ruffians a month ago—and thankfully rescued by her father, one of Niall’s men, before the ruffians could harm her—it had been Niall’s idea for her to start training the young girls in the area. It had been just what Annie needed. She would never forget what happened to her, but she’d found a way to use it for good. “As I told you, we have important visitors arriving tomorrow.”
“I’m afraid there has been a change of plans,” Niall interrupted. “Our visitors sent word that they will be arriving in a few hours.”
“What!” Annie shrieked. “A few hours? I’m not ready.”
Niall gave her a long look up and down, taking in every inch of her tight, formfitting trews (her brother wasn’t going to be pleased about that!) and black leather cotun that Niall had surprised her with not long after they arrived: “a warrior needs armour—even for practice,” he’d told her as she’d blinked back tears. “You look fine to me.”
Annie exchanged glances with the girls who shook their heads in shared understanding. Men were so obtuse when it came to such things.
Saying goodbye to the girls, Annie hurried back to the castle with Niall to give the servants their instructions.
They’d only been living in the new castle for a few weeks, but already Conkeyne Castle felt like home. Niall had modeled it on Ascog, the Lamont stronghold that had been razed by Colin Campbell in the raid over four years ago and rebuilt by Jamie and Caitrina. The four-story square tower house and “bawn,” as the Irish called the defensive wall surrounding the castle, would have made his ancestor Eoin proud. It had certainly made her proud.
But Annie hadn’t anticipated having so many visitors so quickly—and all at once. Patrick, Lizzie, Iain, and her new niece, Mary, were coming, as were Jamie, Caitrina, and their two young daughters, Eliza and Anna, who’d been named in honor of their aunts. Niall’s younger brother Brian, whom he’d let become Chief of Lamont in his stead, was also part of the traveling party. It would be the first time they’d seen their family in over two years, and Annie couldn’t wait. She also wanted everything to be perfect.
She had never regretted her choice, and she wanted everyone—especially her brother—to see why. She was happy, and they’d built a home here. Something they could both be proud of.
Annie had just finished stepping out of her bath when her husband came into the room. She knew him well enough to know that the timing was not a coincidence.
Niall was ever the opportunist.
“I don’t have time,” she said, staring at him with water dripping down her back from her still-sopping hair.
He ignored her protest and started stripping off his clothes. There was nothing slow and seductive about his movements. There didn’t need to be. Niall Lamont had perfected the seduction of quick and methodical. He disrobed as if there were no other purpose than to take off his clothes. Which made it all the more arousing.
Annie felt her breath quicken and her pulse hitch as inch by inch, muscle by muscle, his powerful naked physique was revealed to her appreciative eyes. The gorging traitors!
