My Wild Highlander by Vonda Sinclair Page B

night" bedding. She froze. Sacrebleu . Why hadn't she barred the door?
    Too late; it opened. Her pulse-rate spiked
and she backed up a step. Lachlan entered with a basket and closed
the door. "I missed you at the céilidh ."
    "I was too tired to stay for the music and
dancing." She clenched her hands, trying to hide her unease. "What
is in the basket?"
    "I couldn't help but notice you ate hardly
anything at supper. And who could blame you what with the way
Bernice went on? So I brought you some bread, cheese and wine."
    "I am not hungry," she blurted before his
generous concern could breach her defenses.
    "You must be. You ate only two or three
bites. I wouldn't be accused of starving my wife." He broke a
small, soft chunk of bread and held it before her lips. It smelled
heavenly and she noticed her appetite had returned. She opened her
mouth and he pushed the bread inside.
    "Good, hmm?" He took a bite for himself,
sauntered toward the fireplace and dropped onto the settle. "Come.
Sit."
    What was he scheming? She did not wish to
become cozy with her husband. But he did not seem threatening at
the moment. When she sank into the plush cushion beside him, he
broke a bit of the hard yellow cheese and offered it to her in the
same way. The fire warmed her legs in the inviting dimness. While
they chewed, the silence stretched but it was not an unpleasant
moment.
    "Bernice won't be working in the castle
anymore," he said.
    "Did you speak with Fingall about it?"
Perhaps she should have done that, but she had only wanted to
escape the animosity and everyone's scrutiny. She had to show more
strength tomorrow.
    "Aye. They don't reside at the castle anyway.
They have their own home on the outskirts of the village. His good
income is enough to provide them what they need."
    " Grâce à Dieu . Bernice is a menace.
And her brother did try to kill you. C'est qu'il est goujat! Did Fingall take offense at me?"
    "Nay. He continued to apologize and wished to
make it up to us."
    "I pray she is the only disloyal one
left."
    "As do I. All the Drummagan clansmen I've met
have sworn their allegiance," Lachlan said. "Tomorrow, Dirk, Rebbie
and I will begin training them more rigorously. In the event Kormad
attacks, we shall be ready."
    The thought of an attack or battle produced
an icy sensation in the pit of her stomach. "Do you think he
will?"
    "I cannot rightly say. But he won't give up
easily." Lachlan offered her another piece of bread. When she tried
to take it into her hand, he shook his head and pressed it to her
lips. She ate, watching him carefully. His tiger's eye gaze gleamed
in the firelight as did the trace of dull gold stubble on his
jaw.
    "When would you like to have the second
wedding and the feast?" he asked.
    She swallowed, surprised at this change in
subject. "After my wedding gown arrives from London."
    "A week and a half, then? If your gown
doesn't arrive within a week, I shall send someone to London to
fetch it." He gave her a bite of cheese, his finger carelessly
grazing her lip, then popped a bite into his own mouth. "The women
of this clan make good cheese, aye?"
    She nodded; indeed it was better than most of
the French cheeses. But she feared what made this cheese so tasty
was that he was feeding it to her. Never had a man done this
before.
    He uncorked the half bottle of wine and
offered it to her. "'Tis Brabant."
    She was not accustomed to drinking from a
bottle but it seemed like a fun thing to do. She turned it up.
After two sips of the wine sweetened with honey and spiced with
cloves, she passed it back to him. He drank a long swallow, then
licked his lips.
    The primal side of her craved another sip so
she could place her lips where his had been. What an insane
thought. She recalled the way, at their wedding, he had kissed her
possessively, his tongue darting into her mouth in a startling and
disturbing manner. The memory sent heat searing through her.
    "Would you like to work with the other women
on planning the wedding