brother. Nay, Lachlan knew far too much. Lachlan! Larger than life, solemn, breathtak-
Foolish! He was a foolish noble. Nothing more. After all, he had followed her with no other purpose than to prove his own ability.
Still…
She could not forget the look of his face in the moonlight when she’d first met him on the battlefield wounded yet not defeated.
Hunter shook her head. Despite his prowess and his appeal, he was naught but a man, and men were weak.
And yet he had turned aside the bonny chambermaid in his rush to help her. Indeed, he had barely seemed to notice the girl’s offer in his concern for herself.
But in the end he had turned away from her also. Even after she had dropped her tunic he had made no attempt to seduce her. Indeed, only after he’d pulled his shirt over her head with his own hands had he allowed himself to lower his gaze. So it could not have been her scars that offended him.
But he had fled.
Something curled tight and uncertain in Hunter’s stomach. She lowered her own gaze. Through the sheer fabric of the borrowed garment, she could still see the dark, sensitized rings of her nipples. Below the pale tunic, the scarred leather of her breeches looked worn and rugged in comparison.
That was it then. She was too much the warrior even without the scars. ‘Twas understandable. Preferable even, she told herself, and tightened her fist on her dirk again, but her thoughts roiled on.
He had turned aside the maid too and she had been naught but the picture of femininity.
He was gentle. Yet he had a ferocious need to prove his prowess in battle.
When he had thought her a man, he followed her relentlessly.
He spoke of his mother with rare reverence.
He remained unwed. Indeed, for one so appealing, he seemed strangely uncomfortable around females.
Hunter sat in stunned silence as her thoughts halted abruptly in her head.
Damn! The truth was suddenly clear. Lachlan MacGowan favored men.
Chapter 7
It seemed to Hunter that she stared into space for an eternity, but finally hunger drew her from her trance. She lit a candle and ate.
The meal was simple fare, but it was hearty enough, and she felt a bit of normalcy return with each bite. When she’d eaten her fill, she washed in the water left in the basin and turned to stare numbly at the bed.
Aye, she was tired, but there was only the one mattress and she would not be sleeping alone. Then again, it was late already. Darkness had fallen long ago and MacGowan had yet to return. Perhaps he did not intend to. Perhaps he had turned back toward his father’s keep, or even toward Evermyst. They would be awaiting his return-the brother rogues and their delicate wives. Ready to welcome him back into the fold-the men jovial with mock rivalry, the women fawning. Oh, aye, though the twin maids had come from far different backgrounds, they would both fawn. Indeed, ‘twas most probably how they had won their husbands’ attention. But perhaps not. Perhaps all that was necessary was for them to be women. She had seen how their husbands looked at them, had sensed the depth of feeling lying hidden beneath the surface. There was passion, yes, but there was more. There was caring, kindness, loyalty.
Why would MacGowan not return to Evermyst? After all, he had fulfilled his vow to save her life. He was probably on his way there even now.
Then again, maybe he was merely out enjoying a bit of revelry. Maybe he’d met a likely… lad.
She grimaced and paced fretfully as she tried to acknowledge the truth. The man was not attracted to any woman-much less her. Not that she cared. In fact, it was much preferable this way, for she no longer had to worry about keeping him from her. She glanced at the bed. Fatigue dragged at her limbs, but did she dare risk falling asleep when he might return at any moment?
Aye, she decided abruptly, for she would be perfectly safe there beside him. Her heart rate increased at the thought, but she ignored the rush of
Foolish! He was a foolish noble. Nothing more. After all, he had followed her with no other purpose than to prove his own ability.
Still…
She could not forget the look of his face in the moonlight when she’d first met him on the battlefield wounded yet not defeated.
Hunter shook her head. Despite his prowess and his appeal, he was naught but a man, and men were weak.
And yet he had turned aside the bonny chambermaid in his rush to help her. Indeed, he had barely seemed to notice the girl’s offer in his concern for herself.
But in the end he had turned away from her also. Even after she had dropped her tunic he had made no attempt to seduce her. Indeed, only after he’d pulled his shirt over her head with his own hands had he allowed himself to lower his gaze. So it could not have been her scars that offended him.
But he had fled.
Something curled tight and uncertain in Hunter’s stomach. She lowered her own gaze. Through the sheer fabric of the borrowed garment, she could still see the dark, sensitized rings of her nipples. Below the pale tunic, the scarred leather of her breeches looked worn and rugged in comparison.
That was it then. She was too much the warrior even without the scars. ‘Twas understandable. Preferable even, she told herself, and tightened her fist on her dirk again, but her thoughts roiled on.
He had turned aside the maid too and she had been naught but the picture of femininity.
He was gentle. Yet he had a ferocious need to prove his prowess in battle.
When he had thought her a man, he followed her relentlessly.
He spoke of his mother with rare reverence.
He remained unwed. Indeed, for one so appealing, he seemed strangely uncomfortable around females.
Hunter sat in stunned silence as her thoughts halted abruptly in her head.
Damn! The truth was suddenly clear. Lachlan MacGowan favored men.
Chapter 7
It seemed to Hunter that she stared into space for an eternity, but finally hunger drew her from her trance. She lit a candle and ate.
The meal was simple fare, but it was hearty enough, and she felt a bit of normalcy return with each bite. When she’d eaten her fill, she washed in the water left in the basin and turned to stare numbly at the bed.
Aye, she was tired, but there was only the one mattress and she would not be sleeping alone. Then again, it was late already. Darkness had fallen long ago and MacGowan had yet to return. Perhaps he did not intend to. Perhaps he had turned back toward his father’s keep, or even toward Evermyst. They would be awaiting his return-the brother rogues and their delicate wives. Ready to welcome him back into the fold-the men jovial with mock rivalry, the women fawning. Oh, aye, though the twin maids had come from far different backgrounds, they would both fawn. Indeed, ‘twas most probably how they had won their husbands’ attention. But perhaps not. Perhaps all that was necessary was for them to be women. She had seen how their husbands looked at them, had sensed the depth of feeling lying hidden beneath the surface. There was passion, yes, but there was more. There was caring, kindness, loyalty.
Why would MacGowan not return to Evermyst? After all, he had fulfilled his vow to save her life. He was probably on his way there even now.
Then again, maybe he was merely out enjoying a bit of revelry. Maybe he’d met a likely… lad.
She grimaced and paced fretfully as she tried to acknowledge the truth. The man was not attracted to any woman-much less her. Not that she cared. In fact, it was much preferable this way, for she no longer had to worry about keeping him from her. She glanced at the bed. Fatigue dragged at her limbs, but did she dare risk falling asleep when he might return at any moment?
Aye, she decided abruptly, for she would be perfectly safe there beside him. Her heart rate increased at the thought, but she ignored the rush of
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