Page 82 of The Scot’s Secret

Her gaze fell to the ridges on his stomach and then a bit lower. She swallowed, knowing he’d been fully unclothed just a few moments earlier.

“You were bleeding,” she said, remembering the blood she’d seen earlier.

He shrugged. “Not my blood,” he said, appearing unconcerned. She’d seen him fight and pitied his opponent.

She looked up at the castle and knew they would be missed soon. But she couldn’t bring herself to leave just yet.

“You haven’t told me why you came here.” And then it hit her. He hadn’t come to find her after all.

“To—”

She stopped him, already knowing the answer. “Wash away the dirt and blood from training.” How utterly humiliating. Clara had assumed he’d sought her out, but that was simply what she’d wanted to think.

“I will go first so as not to arouse suspicion.” Of course, Emma already knew they were together out here. Alone.

Clara turned and fled, her feet not moving fast enough for her. Fool!

* * *

Why hadn’t he corrected her?

After taking out his frustrations on a number of English knights eager to best the Scotsman, Alex had finally given in to the need that had been demanding his attention all day. He’d wanted to see her. To touch her. To be with her. He’d finally walked away from yet another sword fight—he’d have to find Geoffrey for a real challenge—and inquired about the whereabouts of Clara, or rather Lady Susanna.

Something about her had made him forget his original intention—to apologize—and though he had apologized, he’d done much more than that. But Alex hadn’t been able to resist touching her. He wanted to be inside her, imagined it so often he could almost believe it had already happened. But seeing the pleasure on her face as she melted against him had been as sweet as any release of his own. Of course, he couldn’t very well walk to the castle in this state, smiling at the memory of how her cheeks had pinkened when he disrobed in front of her.

Shy maid, indeed.

So why had he allowed her to think washing was his only intention? The hurt in her eyes had been evident. Mayhap he’d done it simply to put some distance between them. Taking pleasures where they could was one thing. Taking her maidenhead was an entirely different matter.

And yet. . . he could not bear for her to think the worst. Alex swore as he began to follow Clara back to the keep, his every thought fixed on his English maid.

“There you are.”

The steward seemed to be everywhere at Kenshire. Alex had no sooner made his way through the gate, skirting the keep’s main entrance, than Peter found him in an open passageway.

“You’ve a rare ability to sneak up on a man,” he said, surprised not to have seen or heard the steward coming.

“If I wasn’t able to do so, I’d not be much of a steward to the lord and lady of Kenshire.”

“Is there word from Elkview?”

At this point, Alex didn’t know what his preferred answer would be.

“Nay, but there is a man inside meeting with Geoffrey now. He sent me to find you.”

“Me?” Unless it pertained to his mother, Alex couldn’t imagine what Geoffrey would need from him.

“Aye, they are currently occupying my office. If you’ll follow me?”

He did so with interest. Leading him into the great hall and then across it and down a short corridor, Peter opened the door to a room with no windows or openings to the outside world. Every surface stacked with old books and parchment, it seemed a fitting room for the steward. Its smell was not unpleasant, though it was a tad dusty.

Geoffrey and his companion, who’d been sitting around a small round table to one side of Peter’s desk, both stood to greet him.

Peter introduced him.

“May I present Alex Kerr of Brockburg to Lord Easton.”

“Sit,” Geoffrey requested, indicating the two empty chairs at the table. Alex and the steward took the empty chairs, and Geoffrey and his guest returned to their seats.