A knock sounded at Seona’s door, making her jump. Heavens! Who could that be? She got up and cracked open the door. Millie stood in the corridor holding a candle, the wide-eyed Edwina beside her.
“What is it? Is Aunt Patience worse?” Seona asked, apprehension slithering through her.
“Nay, m’lady. She is much improved and asked for some food,” Millie said.
Seona sighed with relief. “I’m glad she is feeling better.”
“Aye. We need to go to the kitchen and find her something to eat, but Edwina refuses to go unless someone comes with us. She’s afraid of the dark in this unfamiliar castle.”
“Very well. I’ll go with you. Let me put on my arisaid.” Seona quickly belted the wool plaid around her waist, secured the brooch at her chest and joined the two maids in the corridor.
“I’m sorry to bother you, m’lady. I simply didn’t know what else to do.”
“’Tis no bother. Do you ken where the kitchen is?”
“Aye, we were there earlier, but ’tis a long trek.”
The door where the guard was stationed opened and Isobel stuck her head out. “Is something wrong?” she whispered. “I heard noises out here.”
“Nay. Aunt Patience is hungry,” Seona said.
“Good. She is improving, then. Wait just a moment.” Isobel returned a minute later, also wearing her arisaid. “I will show you where the kitchen is. I’m certain there must be some leftover bread and cheese. I need to go down there anyway.” Carrying a lantern and a small flask, Isobel led the way.
Seona knew Isobel hated whisky, but maybe Dirk needed more.
“Is Laird Dirk feeling well?”
“Aye, he is sleeping now but when he wakes up he may want more wine or whisky for pain.”
The four descended the spiral stairwell, took two turns along a corridor, then descended another stairwell. Finally, they entered the stone-vaulted kitchen. The fires burned low but the room was still cozy. Seona had always enjoyed visiting kitchens because of the warmth and scent of fresh baked bread or savory stew.
Isobel placed a wooden tray on the high cook’s table, then moved about the kitchen gathering food items—a wooden bowl of venison broth, bread, hard yellow cheese, and mulled wine.
“Is something wrong, ladies?”
Seona turned to find Keegan behind them, holding a thick candle. Heated excitement rushed over her. “Nay,” she said. “’Tis only that Aunt Patience is finally hungry.”
His brows lifted. “Ah, ’tis good news, then. Her seasickness must have passed.”
“How did you know we were down here?” Isobel asked.
“MacMillan is on guard duty, and he saw the four of you sneak by his post at the bottom of the steps. He told me immediately.”
“Where was he? I didn’t see him,” Isobel said.
“Come now, ladies. Surely you pay more attention than that to what is around you.”
“Nay, we depend on you men to do that for us.” Isobel smirked.
“Aye, treat us all no better than guard dogs, then.”
Seona snickered, and Keegan grinned in response.
“There now,” Isobel told Millie. “Take that tray to Lady Patience. If she needs more, feel free to come down here and get it. There is naught to fear, Edwina. This castle is safe. As a child, I used to wander all over it, even at night. Indeed, sometimes I would wake up and find myself here, in the kitchen.”
The timid maid nodded, but didn’t appear convinced.
“I thank you, m’lady,” Millie said. “Come, Edwina. Carry the candle.”
The two proceeded up the steps.
“What are you doing up this late, Keegan?” Isobel asked.
“I was playing cards with three of your brothers.”
“I hope you beat them.”
“Aye, I won a few. I’ll be glad when Dirk is recovered enough to play a few hands.”
“He feels better, but his leg still pains him greatly. That reminds me… I need to get a bottle of mulled wine and fill up the whisky flask.” Taking the small lantern, she disappeared down a short corridor and into the storeroom off the side of the kitchen.
Seona could not stop her gaze from wandering back to Keegan. He was already watching her, his normally light blue eyes much darker in the dim room, lit only by the low-burning kitchen fire and the candle he had brought with him and set on the scarred table.
The kiss they’d shared in the alcove upstairs burned through her mind. Saints! He had made her weak with powerful yearnings and emotions she didn’t understand.
“I’m glad your aunt is much improved,” Keegan said. “Likely, she will be kicking up her heels tomorrow.”
Seona held back a grin. “I don’t know about that, but at least she is craving food again.”
“You will escort Seona back to her room when you are done talking, will you not, Keegan?” Isobel asked, startling Seona.
What?
“Aye, of course.”
Chapter Thirteen
Seona stared after Isobel as she disappeared up the steps, a bottle of wine and flask of whisky in one hand and the lantern in the other. What was she up to, leaving Seona alone with Keegan in the kitchen?
Well… Seona knew Isobel wanted her and Keegan together. She encouraged her at every opportunity, because she wanted Seona to have a happy marriage like she had. But Seona did not see how that could happen.
Her gaze darted back to Keegan. He watched her as an osprey watches a salmon, with a concentrated focus that might be called hunger. Aye, she hungered for him as well.
His brows quirked in a wee, concerned frown. “Are you afraid?”
“Nay.” Did she look afraid? She tried to smooth out her features. She certainly didn’t fear Keegan. Only what he represented—everything she wanted, standing before her, just waiting. She still wasn’t sure she was brave enough to grab hold and face down all the obstacles.
“Good. I would never want you to be frightened of me, Seona.” His deep, soothing voice was spellbinding.
“I’m not. I trust you more than anyone.” ’Twas the truth and she was not shy about admitting it to him.
“That means more to me than I can say,” he whispered. “But ’haps you shouldn’t.”
His words should have alarmed her, but they didn’t for she suspected she knew what he was about to say. “Why not?”
His gaze grew more penetrating. “Because I wish for things I have no right wishing for.”
Another kiss?
“When I’m alone with you…” he said, shaking his head, “I find I want to…” He blew out a sharp breath and glanced away. “Hell, why am I telling you this?”
“I want you to tell me.” She yearned to know his every thought. “I couldn’t sleep.” That was her confession. Surely he would understand her meaning—she couldn’t sleep because thoughts of him kept taunting her, especially after he’d consumed her mouth earlier.
“Would one more goodnight kiss help?” His expression remained serious. Passionate.
Her heartbeat thumped in her throat. “Aye.” ’Twas a lie. The kiss would not help her sleep; it would keep her awake the rest of the night. But ’twas the one thing she craved most, as a starving person craves bread.
Gradually, he moved closer to her, stroked his warm hand along her cheek, leaned down and pressed his lips to hers… twice, completely seducing her. She slid her hands around his neck. Each kiss was more lingering than the last, then he flicked his tongue against her mouth, sparking fiery yearnings within her. She parted her lips, inviting a deeper kiss. With a soft moan, he indulged her. He tasted faintly of spiced wine, but mostly, he tasted like a man she wanted to devour.