Page 75 of The Laird's Masked Passion

“That must be a crowded place.”

Elspeth narrowed her eyes. “Has anyone ever told ye that ye are insufferable?”

“Several times.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth. The air changed at once. It was absurd how quickly it happened. One moment they were trading insults in broad daylight with men nearby and servants passing through the yard. The next, she was thinking of the garden, his kiss, the tree at her back, and his voice asking whether she wished him to explain what her body did not understand.

She hated memory. It had no manners.

Colin’s voice lowered. “Ye are blushing.”

“I am warm.”

“It is cold.”

“Then I am ill.”

“With what?”

“Annoyance.”

His smile became almost dangerous. “I have noticed yer annoyance often makes ye look at me mouth.”

“I look at yer mouth because it says arrogant things. One watches an enemy’s weapon.”

“And me chest?”

Elspeth’s brain stopped. Unfortunately, her eyes betrayed her by flicking downward for the smallest, most ruinous instant. Colin saw and his satisfaction was intolerable. She gathered what remained of herself and stepped around him.

“I am needed in the kitchens.” She pointed at him. “And put on a shirt.”

His smile deepened. “As me lady commands.”

Elspeth turned before her face could reveal any further treachery and walked quickly toward the kitchen passage. She did not run. Running would suggest she was fleeing him, and she was not fleeing. She was proceeding with urgency.

She reached the kitchen door with her pulse still misbehaving and her thoughts in disgraceful disorder.

The cook looked up from a table of flour-dusted bowls. “Me lady?”

Elspeth took a steadying breath. “Apples.”

The cook blinked. “I beg yer pardon. Apples?”

“Fer the feast,” Elspeth said, far too firmly. “We must discuss apples at once.”

The cook studied her red face, then glanced through the open doorway toward the courtyard. A knowing look crossed her features.

Elspeth pointed at a sack on the table. “Nae one word.”

The cook lowered her eyes. “Of course, me lady.”

But Elspeth heard the smile in her voice and knew with deep irritation that by supper half the castle would know she had gone to discuss apples and nearly perished of her husband’s chest.

Lachlan Kerr was awake when Colin entered the lower chamber. That was the first useful thing the man had done since being dragged from the village.

The room beneath the eastern tower wasn’t built for comfort. Stone walls drank the torchlight and returned it dimly. The air held the cold smell of damp earth, old iron, and fear. Lachlan sat bound to a chair near the far wall, with his wrists tied before him, and one cheek bruised from where he had struck the mill.

Murdoch stood behind him. Breac waited near the door. Neither spoke when Colin entered.