Page 38 of Warrior’s Lady

He could hear the pain in her voice and he felt an answering echo in his own chest. "Aye."

Camden shifted his gaze to Violet. He stroked a yellow-gold curl that lay against the girl's rosy cheek. Out of necessity, he'd been forced to see to Violet's grief, to reassure the girl that she was safe here with him. Yet Rhiannon needed his reassurance almost as much. Not with her grief, but about her position within his home.

He hadn't missed the hateful glances and vicious words Rhiannon had had to endure on her journey through his hall. He had watched her progress from the moment she'd stepped into the room. He'd witnessed her fall, and had started to rise to assist her when Hamish and Travis had intervened.

He was to blame for the way they treated her. He had set the precedence the moment he'd learned who she truly was. He'd made his feelings for her abundantly clear, and his staff now rallied behind him.

When had his feelings about her changed? What exactly did he want from her? She'd come here to care for Violet. Did he want something more? This afternoon he'd experienced lust, pure and simple. His body quickened at the memory of her warm and willing flesh pressed so intimately against his own.

Camden frowned at the woman across the bed. Candlelight flickered over the rich gold of her hair and stroked the creamy rise of her breasts as they pressed against the square bodice of her gown with each breath she took.

She gazed at him, a question in her soft, tawny brown eyes, her lips parted. If Violet were not between them, he would take her in his arms and…

And what? Satisfy his need for her? Because that's where his desires would take him if he allowed himself to forget who she was and what her family had done.

Was he ready to move beyond that? This evening, his household's response to her and the anger it had invoked within him, had proved one thing; something had to change.

"Rhiannon." His voice was thick, and he clamped his fingers together before him. Saints above, he wanted to touch her. "I saw the way you were treated tonight by the other members of my household."

Her body stilled; she stared at him, not speaking.

"They had no right to treat you that way. I shall speak with them."

She appeared momentarily disconcerted. "You don't have to do anything for me," she said, shifting off the bed, moving away from him.

"I don't have to," he said gently. "I want to."

"Why?" She shut her eyes tightly. "It makes no sense."

"It's the right thing to do."

Her eyes opened to reveal glittering tears. "And duty means everything to you."

He stood. "Aye."

"Well, I am not your duty," she said, her voice suddenly fierce. "I can take care of myself." She turned away and with jerky movements headed for the door.