“I am glad of it, my lord.” Rolling over, she stood up. Her skirts fell down to cover her thighs. Her passage was sore, but she would not lament it. She had enjoyed herself full well. “Even if my words will make you arrogant.”
He was already arrogant but it was something she seemed drawn to. No softly worded flattery had ever turned her head. Brodick’s bold demands turned her into a wanton.
He watched her, an unreadable expression on his face. Anne lifted her chin, giving him strength back to match his own. The wind whipped up, bringing a chill. Casting her eyes towards the horizon, she noticed the dark thunder clouds rolling in from the coast.
Brodick shook his head. “Ye’re a distraction, madam. I dinnae think I’ve ever been so intent on a woman before.”
“You say that as though it is to be lamented.”
He turned to sweep the area behind them, doing it in a polished, confident manner that further enhanced his appeal. She’d never encountered a man who impressed her the way Brodick did.
“Maybe I’ve nae decided about that yet.” There was a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Some men think falling in love with their wives is a fate worse than death.”
The word love stunned her. Her father loved her. She loved her mother and siblings. Yet love between a man and a woman was something that was denied her by her bastard heritage. To allow her heart to soften would be to invite heartache.
She knew it and still her heart swelled. She suddenly felt so happy, she wasn’t sure her feet were still on the ground. Brodick was watching her face, his expression carefully guarded. His lips twitched up as she failed to mask her emotions.
“Aye, lass, look what ye’ve gone and done. Stolen me heart. I’m going to have to take ye back to my castle and keep ye forever, else wither away for want of ye.”
He winked at her. “’Tis the Scot raiding way. We keep what we steal.”
He left to retrieve their horses. A stricken look took command of her features as she hugged her arms around her.
Love. It was amazing and more precious than she ever might have imagined. No girlhood dream could have prepared her for the feeling.
The years of Philipa’s scorn had never once felt like such a burden as they did right then. Her knees practically buckled, her shoulders wanting to throw the weight off. Her stomach was knotted with nausea so thick, she had to suppress the urge to retch.
Love…both gift and curse. The faces of her family tugged at her while her heart longed for the man riding toward her. If she remained with Brodick, loving him, she had to abandon the family who loved her to a cruel fate.
She had no idea what to do. None at all.
Brodick pulled his horse up when Sterling came into view. His body became still for a moment as he stared at one of the towers.
“We’ve company.”
“Indeed?”
He nodded. Raising one hand he pointed toward the far north tower. “See the banner? ’Tis nae mine or Druce’s.”
Peering in the direction he pointed, she glimpsed a blue and green banner dancing in the wind.
“’Tis from court.”
His voice went serious and it was something she understood full well. Even a titled earl was subject to the will of his king. Brodick kneed his mount forward, and her mare picked up her hooves to follow.
Brodick swung from the saddle the moment they reached the yard. He reached up and plucked her from her horse before the mare even came to a stop.
“Take a nap. I’ll have to finish ravishing ye later.”
A nap indeed.
Anne laughed at his jest but he was already striding away, intent on joining his secretary who was standing on the steps waiting for his master. Anne had seen the man a few times, the large leather bag slung across his chest a telling thing. She knew what was in it—letters, books and, most importantly, the seal of the house. He appeared at each meal with the bag and she had not seen him even once without it.
He lowered his head as Brodick got close, moving forward so that their words would not drift.
A cart creaked as it entered the yard, two oxen pulling it.
“There ye are, lass.” Helen’s voice was full of cheer. She had to wait for the team to be held steady before another man unhooked the gate placed across the back of the cart. Helen climbed out, shaking her skirts and tartan when she was standing on the ground.
“Me daughter had a strong son, she did. ’Tis me first grandchild. They baptized the boy Ian.”
Brodick’s sister was also in the cart, although Fiona looked frustrated as she climbed to the ground. A dark-coated mare followed the cart and the animal nuzzled Fiona the moment she stood up. Brodick’s sister stroked the animal’s muzzle with confident hands, speaking softly to it.