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Broderick chuckled, though the sound lacked its usual ease. His foot fidgeted, swaying side to side. His steady façade was cracking, and the sight of it sent a thrill through her.

“Now you know what it’s like to be hunted,” she added with a lift of her chin.

“I welcome it,” his deep voice intoned, sending a delightful shudder across her breasts.

Davina waggled a scolding finger at him, though her lips twitched with a grin she couldn’t quite suppress. “I’m not about to give you your payment before it’s due.”

A low laugh rumbled from his chest, and he unfurled a wolfish grin. “I’ll just have tae wait, won’t I? Though I cannae say I mind the chase.”

Her face flushed, but she was determined not to show him how easily his words affected her. She shook her head, sat up straight, and tightly placed her hands in her lap. “Let’s focus on the matter at hand.”

He nodded, a smile still playing on his lips. “As ye wish, lass.”

She cleared her throat, forcing herself to focus. “Did you learn anything else about Ewan? From the handshake?”

“Aye.” Broderick’s expression shifted, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by something more calculating. “The lad has his sights set on havin’ many a wee bairn.”

Her brow furrowed. “Him? Wanting children?” The thought was absurd. A man like Ewan Gordon, with his pristine manners and fastidious nature, knee-deep in messy, crying babes? It was almost laughable.

Davina’s lips spread into a slow, wicked grin. A plan began to form, catching fire. “Well, then,” she murmured, leaning back inher chair. “I know exactly what I’m going to do to finish him off.”

Broderick arched a reddish-brown eyebrow, his grin widening with expectation. “Dare I ask?”

She shot him a sideways glance. “Oh, you’ll see. Supper will be interesting, I promise you that.”

Broderick chuckled, the sound rich and low, curling through her belly.

“I hope you have a strong stomach, though,” she added, rising and clasping her hands before her.

He cocked a curious eyebrow. “Lass, I’ve seen worse than whatever devilry ye’ve got planned.”

She tilted her head, mischief dancing behind her eyes. “We shall see.”

∞∞∞

Broderick leaned against the counter of the serving room, his arms crossed over his chest, fingers drumming impatiently on his biceps. The room smelled of roasted meat, mingling with the faint tang of fresh herbs from the kitchen hearth beyond.

He blew out an exasperated breath, shifting his weight. “Where are ye, lass?” he muttered, his words swallowed by the clatter of dishes being prepared.

The kitchen door swung open, and the maid scurried in with a tray of steaming dishes. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat, a few strands of hair clinging to her damp brow beneath her linen cap.

“Excuse me, milord,” she said briskly, shoving past him, setting the plates onto the counter. “I’ve no time for ye lurkingabout like some barn cat.”

“Where’s Davina?” he asked, straightening.

The girl shrugged, her oval face already flushed from the heat of the kitchen. “I’ve no idea. But she’d best get here soon, or Lord Tammus’ll have her hide. And that guest of his…” She rolled her eyes. “I doubt he’s the patient sort.”

Broderick smirked faintly. “Nor am I.”

Before the maid had a chance to respond, Rosselyn charged through the door. The lamplight highlighted the chestnut hues in her braided hair, and her cheeks were flushed with a rosy tint.

“Beatrice, Cook says that the breads are done,” Rosselyn stated curtly, gesturing towards the kitchen. “Hurry up. She’s yelling loud enough to wake the dead.”

Beatrice huffed, grabbed a basket from the counter, and disappeared back through the door.

Rosselyn turned, her piercing eyes locking onto Broderick. “You!” She jabbed a finger in his direction. “I can’t believe you!”

Broderick blinked. “What have I done?”