“Yes?”
“I’ve made charts of every job in the castle. I know how things work here now.”
His brows rose. “Do you now?”
“And Mr. Russell and I have figured out what can be done before winter, and what should wait. I know you went over most of it with him before you left, but—”
“You have suggestions.”
“Not just me. I’ve talked to everyone I could. Even Mairi.”
Connall chuckled. “I bet she gave you an earful.”
She frowned at the man. “She was very helpful. And don’t you think you should go wash as well? Dinner will be coming soon, and you don’t want to miss it.”
The Aberbeag gave her a courteous bow. “As you please, my lady.” But he glanced down at Beitidh before he left. “Should we do something with her first?”
“I’ll take care of her,” the MacCleal said in a heavy tone. “Go to my chamber and don’t leave it until I say,” he ordered.
Beitidh’s eyes widened at that, but she knew better than to argue. With a nod, she made it to her feet. Her steps were steady and before long, her chin came up. But she didn’t argue, and Clara was happy to see the back of her.
“I will wash as well, my lady,” the MacCleal said. Then he looked back at his son. “We will feast tonight, and then you and I will speak.”
Oh dear. That did not sound like it would be a good discussion. Apparently, Liam agreed because he spoke in a hard tone.
“You’re not able to discuss anything in your cups, Father. We can speak in the morning.”
The man’s eyes narrowed, but he agreed with a short grunt. And then he joined the Aberbeag as they left the great hall. Clara heard a few of their words as they left. Something about copper pipes and whisky, but the meaning of it was lost on her as Liam caught her mouth with his.
She’d been watching his father leave, but he swiftly brought her attention back to him. His mouth was demanding as he moved over her, and she opened to him with a sigh of relief. Liam was back. She could rely on him to explain things she didn’t understand. And they could resume the nighttime activities which she so enjoyed.
She gripped his arms, pulling herself closer even as he arched her backwards with his demands. She felt the tension in him, and she didn’t know if it came from fury, worry, or desire. It didn’t matter. She responded to him as she always did. Her heart sped up, her belly grew liquid, and her ever-churning thoughts quieted until all she thought about was him.
Until he pulled back.
“Clara,” he whispered. “Be my wife.”
Always back to that, and for the first time, she hesitated before denying him. “Can we talk tonight?” she asked. “Afterwards?” Even though she wasn’t looking, she could already hear the platters of food being brought into the great room. They weren’t alone, and this wasn’t the time to rehash their nightly argument.
“Tonight,” he agreed. “But no later.”
She straightened, but as she looked into his fierce expression, she heard herself say the first thought that came into her head. “I don’t know how it will be different.”
“Iam different.” He touched her lips. “And I think you are, too.”
She bit her lip, feeling the tingling swell of her flesh. Her first thought was to deny that anything had changed between them. Three days apart was not long enough for new revelations. And yet, she could not disagree. Part of her had thrilled when he’d rushed to her side to defend her. The sight of his fists raised as he protected her set her heart beating in a purely carnal way. And three days apart had told her that she disliked his absence intensely.
But was that enough?
“It’s too soon,” she said. “We’ve only just begun the work here.”
“There will always be work, Clara. Things to do, systems to change, people to educate. Will you be my side as I do them? May I be at your side as you remake everything around me?”
“It’s just the bathhouse.”
“I heard something about a classroom.”
“Well, of course. And I thought about your bees.”
