“What do ye need, Mary?”
Being in Cameron’s arms made her bold. “Truly? Ye. But this is no’ the time.” She stepped out of his arms and clasped her hands together to keep from reaching for him. “I…”
He stroked her hair as he told her, “Ye are exhausted, lass, and hurt. Ye should sleep.”
“I dinna ken if I can.”
“Will it help if I sit with ye?”
As she had spent hours sitting with him while he was ill. “Only sit?”
Cameron pulled the chamber’s simple wooden chair next to the bed. “Here. I’ll be right in this chair. I’ll holdyer hand, or talk, or recite poetry, whatever will soothe ye.” He grinned. “But I willna sing ye a lullaby. I fear my voice would keep ye awake the night through.”
Mary couldn’t help it. Despite her exhaustion, fear, and grief for her father, she laughed. Then winced and lifted a hand to her mouth. “Ye must demonstrate—some other time, aye.” She turned to the bed, then back again. “I must undress. Will ye turn away?”
Cameron gave her a wicked grin “I’d rather no’,” he teased.
Mary answered his grin with a tired smile, throwing caution to the wind. “Then help me.” She turned around. “And undo my laces, please?”
Cameron’s voice behind her sounded low and sexy. “With pleasure.” He gripped her shoulders, then ran his hands down her arms and slipped them onto her waist.
She fought the urge to lean back into his chest, knowing where that would lead. He made quick work of her laces, and she slipped off her dress, leaving her in her shift. Then she sat and offered him her boot. “Please?”
He gripped it and pulled it and her stocking from her foot, then did the same with the other. But instead of releasing that foot, he stroked it with both hands, then rubbed circles on her sole and across the pad under her toes.
Mary arched back and sighed with pleasure. “Where did ye learn to do that?”
“Ye dinna wish to ken, love,” he told her. “Just enjoy it. Lie back and let me help ye go to sleep.”
Mary knew she should tell him to stop, tell him to leave her chamber, that it was not proper for him to put her to bed. Her father would be livid. All those objectionsran through her mind, then stilled under Cameron’s deft touch. Instead, she obeyed him, sliding back and stretching out on her bed, laying her head on a pillow. Cameron covered her with a sheet and woolen throw, then folded the covers above her ankles and returned to her other foot. He alternated from one foot to the other several times. But when his hands slipped up her calf, even under the covers, she knew it was time to deny him, or they’d never stop. “Cameron,” she warned.
“I thought for a moment I’d succeeded in making ye drift off to sleep.”
“Ye willna,” she told him. “What ye are doing feels so good, I dinna want to miss any of it.”
“I can make ye feel even better.”
“No’ tonight, Cameron. Please.”
“Aye, I hear ye.” He stood and pulled the covers down over her toes. “I’ll leave ye be, as ye wish. Get some rest, Mary, my love.” He bent and kissed her forehead.
Mary wondered then if sending him away was a mistake, but nay. Sick Cameron was one thing. Healthy Cameron in full control of his faculties and his body, wanting her, was quite another.
Chapter 14
“He was my first love and he gave up on me,” Mary complained to her maid as they carried baskets of bedding across the bailey to the laundress to be washed. She had started the conversation explaining the bruises on her face, determined that Cameron not be blamed for Dougal’s actions. “He went off and married someone else. If he’d really loved me, he would have fought for me then, instead of trying to force himself on me now. Thank goodness, Cameron saved me from him.” She could count on her maid to spread the word.
She just hoped Cameron was the kind of man who, when he found true love, would never give up on it. Or her.
“He was a fool, milady,” the maid answered as they entered the laundry. “He’s gone and ye must forget him. Cameron Sutherland is a different sort of man.”
Dougal and his men had ridden out this morning, without a word to her or, as far as she knew, to anyoneelse. She was glad to see them gone so easily. Dougal could have made more trouble while he remained. She didn’t know if Cameron’s threats or her words had convinced him to go. She didn’t care. He was gone.
After she had a chance to sleep on her decision to make Cameron leave her chamber, Mary regretted not asking him to stay. She couldn’t imagine Dougal in Cameron’s place last night, rubbing her feet, treating her so kindly, being solicitous of her welfare, and leaving without argument when she asked. She knew it would never have happened. Dougal lacked Cameron’s innate concern for the welfare of others—even people he claimed he cared about. If he had an ounce of compassion in him all those years ago, he would have told her he’d tired of waiting for her, rather than letting her find out from others that he’d gotten betrothed, just not with her.
“A different sort of man?” She was eager to know how others in the clan regarded Cameron Sutherland.
“He came back. He did his duty by his clan and went home, and now he’s back. For ye. Do ye fear the clan is waiting for him to leave ye again?”
