“I dinna ken. Mayhap they have been breeding with the English o’er long.”
Magnus’ laughter was a rich boom. “Mayhap.”
“I took warriors there in hopes of meeting Edward’s black heart on the battlefield. I lost interest after he failed to show.”
Magnus harrumphed. “Bluidy well right. ‘Tis up to the Lowlanders to hold their own.” He waved a hand. “But that bastard Edward I has caused mischief for all of us, Highlanders included. I wouldst have ridden south too had I known.”
The rest of the meal passed well enough, though Angus could tell Lady Octavia was feeling ill at ease. Whether ‘twas her bum still sporting or her mind simply elsewhere, he could not say. He kenned she had to be hungry, yet she’d barely eaten. He wanted to question her, but realized ‘twould like as not embarrass her if he did.
Octavia felt as inept as she had the first time she’d tried to mount that horse. She didn’t know what a lady in the twenty-first century was supposed to behave like, much less a lady in the fourteenth century. Fuck, she couldn’t even figure out how to eat! Everyone else was using a dagger. She supposed she could whip out the knife she carried in her boot, but it was way bigger than the ones the others were using.
“Lady Octavia,” the lady of the house inquired, “is our food not to a Roman lady’s liking?”
Octavia flushed. “What I’ve eaten has been tasty,” she said truthfully. “Thank you for inviting me inside.”
“I’ve seen mice eat more,” Magnus boomed. “You dinna need to be skittish with us, milady. Eat up!”
“Yes, well, as to that…”
She saw Angus raise an eyebrow. He prodded her when she didn’t continue her sentence. “Aye?”
“The thieves.” She swallowed over the lump in her throat. Good lord she hated all these lies. “They took my dagger as well as my finery. I don’t have anything to eat with.”
“Oh you poor lass!” This from Lady Iohanna.
“There, there, we’ve got to have an old dagger around here someplace,” Magnus announced.
Angus raised a hand. “Dinna trouble yourselves. I canna eat another bite. She can use mine.”
Octavia was more relieved than words could say. She had been about five minutes away from disgracing herself by tearing meat off her trencher with her bare hands. Even she realized a lady was unlikely to behave like that!
She accepted the proffered dagger, their hands quickly brushing. She smiled at Angus whose gaze fell to her lips, lingering, before returning to her eyes. She hurriedly looked away, cleared her throat in a way she hoped came across as sufficiently delicate, and got down to the business of eating.
By the time she was finished, everyone at the table was smiling at her. She could feel her face suffusing with heat at the unwanted attention. SEALs became SEALs because they preferred blending into their surroundings like chameleons, yet Octavia knew everything about her stood out like a sore thumb. The only sort of attention she was accustomed to was praise for a mission well done. She wasn’t used to being the focal point in any other situation.
“Thank you,” she said simply. “Dinner was wonderful.”
Chapter Seven
By the time Octavia was shown to the vacant hut she was more than ready to be alone. Thankfully servants had left burning candles behind so she could see what she was doing. She paused when she saw that the medieval version of a tub had been brought inside the hut for her to make use of. Five minutes later, her clothing removed, she climbed into the large barrel and sank into the hot, inviting water. She caught herself groaning, her aching muscles appreciating this respite more than words could express. The bath felt decadent.
Octavia took her time soaking before washing her hair and body. She stayed in the barrel until the water had gone cold then stood up to air out. The hut felt frigid by comparison, causing her nipples to stab outward.
“Milady,” a familiar voice called out. Angus closed the door behind him. “Lady Iohanna was kind enough to gift you with this fine—” He swallowed heavily as his gaze found hers. “—fine dress.”
Octavia’s breasts raised up and down in time with her breathing. She knew the laird wanted her, knew too that she wanted him, but she highly doubted a lady of noble birth would make herself sexually available to anyone. As his dark eyes traveled up and down her body, she found herself not caring about the façade she’d had to craft for herself in this time.
“I should go,” Angus said thickly. “I dinna ken you were bathing.”
Octavia said nothing. She simply stared back at him. He was so large, so powerful, and perhaps the only man alive she doubted she could beat in a fair fight. Angus was all bronzed skin over rigid muscles. The effect he had on her was powerful.
She didn’t want to want him. She didn’t want to need him. But she’d been through so much in the past three years. Would it be so terrible if she let herself lose control for one night? Just one damn night.
“I’ll go now.” Angus blinked and forced his gaze away from her. “I’ll see you in the morn.”
“Don’t leave.” She couldn’t believe the words had come out of her mouth. “Please stay.”
Octavia had never felt more vulnerable. Probably because she had never allowed vulnerability in herself anymore than she had permitted it in the men under her command. But those same men had experienced vulnerable, intimate moments with their partners when the mission was over and it was time to go home. She, on the other hand, had no such moments. She fucked when the physical need became too much, but that was the extent of her involvement.
