It would mean she would have to seek those wild creatures out, brave their bawdy, sinful camp, but for her beloved Nevin, she would brave anything.
* * * * *
Silvan and Nell had fled their perch the moment Gwen released Drustan from the garderobe.
Nell hadn't needed to wait around to see what was going to happen next. During Drustan and Gwen's intimate talk, she'd been surprised the door itself hadn't gone up in flames.
She'd followed Silvan in a blind dash to his tower, where they'd collapsed on his bed, huffing and sorely out of breath from their mad race up the hundred stairs.
When her heart finally stopped pounding, she realized, with much consternation, where she perched. On the laird's bed! Next to him! She tensed to move away.
With strong hands on her waist, he caught her before she could flee and turned her face toward his with a firm hand beneath her chin. His eyes were brimming with emotion as he searched her gaze. Deep in their brown depths, tiny golden flecks glittered. She couldn't look away for anything. She gazed at him mutely.
Then slowly, so slowly that he gave her a thousand lifetimes to turn away, he lowered his lips toward hers.
Nell's breath hitched in her throat. It had been twelve years since she'd kissed a man. Did she even recall how?
"It has been long since I last kissed a lass, Nellie," he said huskily, as if sensing her fears. "I beg you be patient. You might need to remind me of the finer nuances."
Her breath came out in a sudden rush, ending in a small moan. His admission dashed her fears. In all her years at Castle Keltar, she'd not once seen Silvan woo a woman. She'd thought he was simply discreet about his manly needs, mayhap went to the village to satisfy his urges, but was it possible he'd been as alone as she had? She wanted to ask how long but couldn't bring herself to voice the question. No matter, for he read it in her eyes.
"Since my wife died, Nellie."
She gasped.
"Would you kiss such an untried man?" he asked softly.
Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded.
His first brush was soft and tentative, much how she felt. And he didn't try to plunge right in, nay, Silvan kissed her as if she were made of fine china. Kissed her lips, brushing back and forth, kissed her nose, her chin, then her lips again. Kissed the corners of her mouth.
Then pulled away and regarded her soberly.
She tried a tentative smile.
His second kiss was warm and encouraging. By the third touch of his lips to hers, a part of her she'd thought dead was dancing a Scottish reel. And remembering how to kiss as if she'd never stopped. He certainly hadn't forgotten!
His fifth was deep and hungry with passion.
When he finally broke that kiss—she couldn't have for anything—he drew back and said softly, "Och, Nellie, there is a question I've been wishing to ask you. And if I am prying, well, then prying I'll be. 'Tis long past time we spoke freely with each other. Would you tell me, sweet lass, what on earth happened to you the night I found you?"
When tears misted her eyes, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly.
"There, lass," he whispered. "I've been a damn fool for far too long. So many things I should have said, but I was… afraid."
"Afraid?" Nell whispered incredulously. "What might Silvan MacKeltar fear?"
"Och, the possibilities were endless, the fears myriad. That I couldn't make all your hurt go away. That I might make a fankle of things with you, and you'd leave, and my lads loved you so. That you might think me strange—"
"Ye are strange, Silvan," Nell said seriously.
He sighed. "That you wouldn't love me, Nellie."
Words she couldn't bring herself to say trembled on her lips. Words that frightened her, words that would make her heart vulnerable again.
So she offered those words to him silently by pressing her lips to his, hoping they might roll off in the kiss and find their way into his heart.
* * * * *
Dozens of candles shimmered in the laird's bedchamber.
Drustan had made love to her yet another time, so many times, she'd lost count. Gwen's body felt deliciously swollen by kisses and thorough loving from head to toe. In the candlelight, his dark skin shimmered golden, his silky black hair gleamed. She gazed at him, marveling. She had her Drustan back. She still couldn't believe it.
"You really meant it when you said you were going to'toop me until my legs fell off,' didn't you?" she teased, wondering if she would be able to walk by morning.
"By Amergin, Gwen, it was killing me watching you walk around the castle! I was obsessed with you. As much as you spied on me, I watched you. And had you stopped, I like as not would have begun stalking you instead."
"A shame I didn't stop, then. I was getting rather sick of humiliating myself."