Page 86 of The Scot

Chapter 35

“Roysa.”

Fully dressed, Terric sat on the edge of the bed, whispering her name. He didn’t want to wake her, but he knew it was unlikely he would see her for the remainder of the day. It might even be longer. He could not leave her without saying goodbye. Without kissing her.

“Roysa.”

“Do you have permission to use my given name?”

Despite all that was happening around them, Terric smiled, remembering their second meeting.

“I do not remember asking,” he said, repeating his own line.

Her eyes, barely open, began to flutter shut. Terric, reluctant to leave but knowing he must, touched her one last time. Laying his hand on her bare shoulder, he felt a wave of possessiveness.

“Mmmm.” She turned onto her side, pressing against his hand as he rubbed the back of her shoulder. She seemed to enjoy it, so he was loath to stop.

“I’ll gladly do this every morn,” he said, Roysa acknowledging his words with a low moan of pleasure. She had completely flipped onto her stomach. Terric tried to ignore his increasing discomfort as he ran his hand from her neck downward.

“I woke you for a reason.”

“Mmmmhmmm.”

“Stay here. Do not worry about what anyone will think, or say.”

No response.

“You are not a maid, and we will be married.”

“Mmmmm.”

“I will return as soon as I am able. Roysa? Do you hear me?”

“Mmmmhmmm.”

She wriggled beneath his hands, clearly enjoying his touch. Would that Terric could stay. Sadly, he could not. Leaning over her, he kissed her shoulder, pulled the coverlet over her back, and stood.

He’d already added a log to the fire, so he gathered his belongings and turned to leave—only to find he could not. He stood by the door, watching her.

He had made the right decision, he realized. The only decision.

Terric just prayed they would stay alive long enough to enjoy each other.

Opening the door as quietly as possible, he slowly made his way from the chamber. Though the hour was still very early, the hall was as full as if it were midmorn. Guards who had been watching through the night had come in to eat before getting some rest.

Although his place had been set, Terric would not be using it. Instead, he strode to a serving maid whose tray was laden with bread and cheese.

“May I?”

Without waiting for a response, he took both.

“We’ve had provisions brought to the gatehouse,” Idalia said, walking up to him. She’d been breaking her fast at the table.

“’Tis early for you to be awake, Idalia.”

She walked with him from the hall.

“Lance woke me as he came in earlier,” she said. “Typically it is my sister who arises first . . .”