Page 68 of Kidnapped by a Rogue
“Ye don’t look like a satisfied man to me.” Curstag gave him a sly smile as she touched her fingertip to his bottom lip. “I know you, Finn, and a wicked woman is exactly who ye want in your bed.”
He heard a sharp intake of breath behind him. Nay, his luck could not be this bad. With a sinking feeling, he turned around to find Margaretstandingthere.
“Good afternoon, Curstag,” Margaret said without a flicker of annoyance in her voice, but when Finn started to help her up ontoCeò, she stepped back from his reach.
“There’s no need forCeòto carry us all,” she said, fixing her gaze somewhere over his shoulder. “I’m sure the earl can spare a horse for me and Ella to ride on our own.”
Margaret had definitely seen them and drawn all the wrong conclusions.
“Maggie!” Finn called after her when she turned her back on him and walked toward the stables. He caught her arm when she was just inside. “That wasn’t what it looked like.”
“I’m not a fool,” she said. “Ye can do what ye like. I don’t care who ye bed.”
“I think ye do.”
“All I asked was that ye be discreet for the sake of your family as much as for me,” she said. “But it’s your business if ye want to embarrass yourself with your brother’s wife.”
Despite his intention to be patient and understanding, he was beginning to become irritated. Hell, he’d done nothing wrong. He had not even looked at another lass, let alone bedded one, since they met. Even if he had, Margaret would have no cause to complain, since she did not want him. At least, she did not want him enough to lower herself to bed a mere warrior.
“I’ve told ye you’re the one I want, but I’m no monk,” he said. “How long do ye expect me to live like one?”
“Bed as many women as ye like,” she said. “Bed them all!”
By the saints, they were having a real argument. In all the time he’d known her, Margaret had never once shown she was angry, let alone shouted at him. Though he wished Curstag had not upset her, it was rather refreshing not to have to guess what was going on inside Margaret’s head.
This was the same lass who had faced her former husband in front of a crowd of gossiping nobles at court without letting them see a hint of the humiliation and hurt she felt. No matter her denials, her loss of control told him the truth.
He smiled to himself. Margaret cared very much whether he was bedding someone else.
CHAPTER 18
Angry tears burned at the back of Margaret’s eyes, making her grateful for the darkness of the stables. She was horrified that she had lost control and revealed how upset she was.
“I shouldn’t have raised my voice,” she said.
“Ye can shout at me all ye like. I don’t mind,” Finn said in a soft voice as if he was calming a frenzied horse. “A little shouting is good for the soul.”
She did feel better for it, but she was not about to admit that. “Una will be here with Ella any moment. It would have upset Ella if she heard us arguing.”
“’Twould be good for that wee lassie to do a bit of shouting herself,” Finn said.
What was wrong with her today? Finn’s remark very nearly made her burst into tears, because he was right. Ella was far too quiet and careful. Margaret did not want her daughter to be like her, always protecting herself, afraid to cause trouble or make demands.
“Don’t worry about Curstag,” Finn said, resting his hands on her shoulders. “She’s just bored.”
From the way Curstag glared at her during the ride, Margaret suspected Finn was not sleeping with her—yet. But as he had pointed out himself, he was no monk. It was unreasonable for her to expect him to resist temptation for long, whether from Curstag or someone else. The thought of him with another woman should not make her feel sick to her stomach.
Fortunately, the journey to Helmsdale was not long. The rugged coastline was stunning, but the trail was rough and skirted steep cliffs that dropped to the sea. Besides the family, only the earl’s personal guard of two dozen warriors and half the household servants traveled with them, while the rest were left behind at Dunrobin.
The hunting lodge turned out to be a small tower castle built on a hill overlooking the sea beside the mouth of a river. A wall enclosed the tower and a small courtyard, where Finn helped her and Ella down from their horse.
“We’ll have a cold supper tonight,” Helen announced once everyone had dismounted. “It will be ready soon, so don’t be long.”
Finn remained outside with the other men while Helen led the women inside and showed them to their chambers. Once again, Helen gave Margaret and Finn a chamber at the top of the tower—because newlyweds need their privacy—and Una and Ella had the other chamber on that floor.
While Margaret unpacked her and Ella’s meager belongings, a servant brought in a pitcher of water and a basin. Margaret quickly washed the dirt from their hands and faces. Before going downstairs, she peered out the arrow-slit window and caught sight of Finn waist-deep in the river, laughing and talking with the other men while they washed.
A small, high-pitched yelp escaped her lips when Finn dove under and then sprang up out of the water looking like a sea god from the old Norse tales, with water streaming from his shining black hair and down his muscular shoulders and chest.
