Page 49 of Wedded to the Devilish Highlander
“Tell me, Lady Eileen,” he said, tilting his head mischievously, “are ye always so easily charmed?”
“Only by men who ken where I sleep,” she retorted boldly.
He barked a laugh. “Careful, lass. A challenge like that might have consequences.”
“Promises, promises,” she intoned, but regret flashed across her face when her eyes connected with his. With thatwickedglint.
She quickly looked away and glanced around. Her steps slowed, and Archer followed her lead.
“I’m turned around,” she muttered, frustration creeping into her tone.
He bit back a grin. “Are ye now?”
She stopped, her hands on her hips. “Ye are laughin’ at me.”
“Aye,” he said, unrepentant. “Ye are fierce in a fight, but turn a few corners and ye are as lost as a lamb.”
She glared at him, her cheeks pink. “If ye dinnae escort me to me chambers, I will curse ye.”
He turned, still smiling, and reached for the door beside him. Without looking, he pushed it open, revealing her chambers.
Eileen gaped at him, suspicion blooming across her features. “How did ye?—?”
He leaned casually against the doorframe, heat spreading through his body. “I kenexactlywhere ye sleep, lass.”
The look she gave him made his core tighten punishingly.
Go, before ye do somethin’we will both regret.
“See ye at dinner, Lady Eileen,” he murmured, stepping back and shutting the door firmly.
And only then, with the wood solid and cool against his forehead, did he finally allow himself a shaky breath. But only one.
Duty called.
He strode down the dim corridors of the keep, his boots thudding dully against the worn stone until he reached the heavy door of his study.
15
Eileen stood on the other side of her door for a good, long while before she even took a breath. She could definitely see how easily Archer had seduced women.
That voice. Those eyes. His smooth talk…
She pushed off the door and twirled around her room. The sounds of a crackling birch in the background lulled her into an easy waltz in her bedroom.
Piper was the only other person with access to the room through the servants’ entrance. Eileen was safe here—completely safe—and she smiled to herself.
As if on cue, the maid emerged from the hidden stairwell with an armful of dinner gowns, and Eileen thumbed through the stack of fabric before landing on a dark grey swatch.
It was then, in the low firelight and setting sun, that she noticed a change in her bed linens.
“Piper?”
“Aye, Me Lady?”
“Did ye change the linens this mornin’ or today?”
“Nay,” Piper, who had busied herself with tying and fastening her mistress’s dress, replied.
