Page 205 of Wicked Highland Heroes

Chapter Twelve

It was true. A woman’s smile was enough to encourage a man to commit even murder. Tonight, however, Talbot was fortunate that Lady Rhoslyn’s smile had simply haunted him, which was enough to make him once again curse his brother to hell. If Talbot knew where Dayton was, he would ride an entire month to lay hands on him, then kill him. Talbot gave a private laugh. It would seem her smile had incited him to murder after all.

The reverie showed no signs of abating as Rhoslyn disappeared into the kitchen. She remained animated and busy, clearly intent upon staying up until the very last guest retired. But Talbot recognized the fatigue in the corners of her eyes and knew he was the reason she hadn’t sought her bedchambers.

He wondered if she might try to avoid the hunt tomorrow and sleep while he hunted with the guests. That he wouldn’t allow. Neither would he allow her to be so exhausted she fell from her horse.

Talbot finished the last of the wine he was drinking, then rose. He skirted the guests until he reached the kitchen, and went inside. The bustle in the room came to a halt and Rhoslyn looked up from the platter she was filling with meat.

Her brow furrowed. “Is there something ye need, St. Claire?”

“Aye.” He came to her side and cupped her elbow. “It is time we retired, Lady Rhoslyn.”

Her eyes widened, then her brows dove down in ire. Talbot easily guessed she wanted to tell him to go to the devil, but she was a highborn lady, and such ladies didn’t bare their feelings before servants...feelings that included the memory of a man who had violated her days before.

Mistress Muira entered from the pantry. She took the room in at a glance, then said in a clipped voice, “Back to work, lasses.”

The room jumped to life and Talbot plucked a piece of pork off the plate Rhoslyn had been filling and popped it into his mouth.

“Are ye hungry, St. Claire?” she asked.

“Nay. It just smelled too good to resist.” He shifted his gaze onto her. “Like you, my lady.”

To his surprise—and satisfaction—a pretty blush crept up her cheeks.

“Ye may go to your bedchambers, if you like,” she said. “I will join you there later. We have many guests still celebrating. I must see to them.”

Talbot poured a cup of wine from a pitcher. “You must see to them?”

“Of course. It is my duty.”

He emptied the glass and sat it on the counter. Then he pulled her close. Her head snapped up and Talbot bent and brushed his lips across hers in a gentle kiss. When he pulled back her eyes smoldered with fury.

“Come along, Lady Rhoslyn. Mistress Muira is capable of handling kitchen tasks.” He looked at the older woman.

“Aye, laird. I have things in hand.”

“Please send up wine to my chambers, Mistress.” Arm still around Rhoslyn, he led her across the room to the servants’ stairs.

He caught the furtive glance she cast at the women who, though bustling about their business, kept one eye on her. They reached the stairs and he urged her ahead of him. She marched up the stairs. Aye, he would never have to guess what this woman was thinking. There was some comfort in that knowledge.

Minutes later, they reached his chambers and she whirled on him. “What sort of barbarian are ye to maul me like that in front of the servants?”

He closed the door with a soft click. “Forgive me if I embarrassed you, my lady. I thought it best we assure everyone our marriage is not affected by your kidnapping.”

She frowned. “Ye could have said something.”

“Servants, maids in particular, can hear through stone walls,” he said. “I could not chance any of them overhearing.”

“There was no need for us to retire so early.”

“Early?” He lifted a brow. “Dawn is but three hours away.”

“Oh,” she said.

She stood as if rooted to the spot, and he had the suspicion she would stand there all night if it meant they didn’t have to share a bed.

A rap sounded on the door. Talbot put a finger to his lips and hurried across the room to the bed. He sat down and called “Enter,” as he began tugging off a boot.