Page 19 of Farlan (Immortal Highlander Clan McKeran #3)

Chapter Seven

T he chieftain led Grace down another level, and then through a passage that ended in an odd spot.

Barrels and jars lined the walls on either side of a small door, which the chieftain opened for her.

On the other side of it was a small room that had an odd-looking bed, a desk made from three big stone slabs cluttered with pieces of parchment, thin metal spikes and black-stained small clay pots.

An old-fashioned washstand, also made of metal, stood with a thick basin and jug made of dark, undecorated clay.

The wood that seemed to be everywhere in the stronghold appeared markedly absent in this room.

“I’ll send a maid with what you may need,” he told her before he closed the door.

Grace closed her eyes and breathed in the faint scent of cinnamon apples.

Farlan had been in here very recently; maybe he’d even told Darro to bring her here.

Everyone must be assuming ridiculous things about her and the seneschal, not that she really minded.

People never changed, and neither did their narrow little minds.

In the real world, if the paparazzi photographed her with anyone, fashion reporters would later coyly suggest Grace was sleeping with them, even if they were gay men.

Because of course no man can resist me, even if they’d rather I be a guy.

Was Darro gay? That might explain why he’d acted so calmly. A knock on the door came, and when Grace opened it a dark-skinned maid with long, tightly-curled black hair walked in. She carried a big basket of things in one hand and a bucket of steaming water in the other.

“Fair day, my lady. I’m Elspeth, the head chambermaid.

” Her brown eyes widened as she looked for the first time at Grace, but she seemed more interested in her ruined clothes.

“Och, I can see you’ve had a time, aye? I brought soap, hot water, washing linens and a gown Lady Ava believes shall fit you. May I fetch anything more?”

She sounded just as Scottish as Farlan and the others, which added to Grace’s confusion. Had she come here from the modern world ?

“That will be fine, thank you.” She would have to talk to the laird’s wife about the maids coming and going when Grace could really look after herself.

Another knock came on the door, and a second maid walked in. This one had stains all over her apron, and scowled as soon as she saw Elspeth.

“I wished to help the new lady,” she told the chambermaid.

Elspeth frowned back at her. “’Tis my work, Una, no’ yours.” She made a shooing gesture. “Go back to the kitchens before Doon loses her temper with you again.”

With a sulky look Una turned and left, slamming the door behind her.

“Forgive us, my lady,” Elspeth said, bobbing again. “Those who come in from the outside make everyone very curious.” A dimple flashed in her cheek. “One as lovely as you, twice as curious.”

Grace watched her unload the things in the basket onto the washstand shelf and filled the clay jug with some of the hot water. “Are you from the outside world?”

“In truth we’re all from the outside, my lady.

” The chambermaid tucked a small square of linen beside the jug of steaming water.

“I came into the trap a few centuries after the cursing of the McKeran Clan. My parents escaped slavery in Britannia and came to Scotland.” She rubbed her hand over her dark forearm.

“Our healer tells me brown-skinned folk like me, they’re no longer hunted and enslaved in your world. ”

“Slavery is illegal in my time,” Grace said, but thought of all the modeling contracts she’d taken, with nothing to show for all the years of work. I was Tonje’s slave.

“’Tis good, for I hope to go there someday, and I should like to live as a free woman.” She curtseyed a third time, smiled, and left.

Grace sat down on the edge of the bed, which had a surprisingly soft mattress, and peeled off her ruined jacket and blouse.

The plain silk chemise she wore under them remained intact but needed washing.

She stood and stripped down to her panties and placed what could be salvaged to one side before she filled the basin with hot water from the jug and picked up a pale green cake of what appeared to be soap.

It smelled like lavender and something mossy, and lathered a little when she tested it on her hands.

She’d always been sensitive to chemicals, but the clan’s soap didn’t irritate her skin.

“Do not make me break out in a rash,” she warned it before she picked up the small swatch of linen to wet.

Giving herself the medieval equivalent of a sink bath allowed Grace some time to consider what she would do next.

She felt confident that Inga wouldn’t harass her anymore, but if she tried she’d shut her down.

Olivia seemed nice enough and would likely help her out if she needed something, but the way her husband had eyed Grace made it plain that he didn’t trust her yet.

Ava was married to the laird, and had been an FBI agent, the latter of which compared to modeling the same way rocket science did.

She couldn’t exactly cozy up to maids like Elspeth, although she had liked the chambermaid’s cheerful attitude and honesty.

I want to be with Farlan.

Grace didn’t know why the urge to run and find the seneschal kept getting worse.

She’d finally washed his scent from her skin, but now she hated smelling like soap instead of him.

Nor did she understand why she had been hoping for even a glimpse of him.

She had never allowed any lover to put an emotional leash on her; even if she had met someone who might have stirred her heart, working to meet Tonje’s demands made romantic relationships impossible.

That was why she had no obligations to anyone, or any purpose.

Her entire career had been focused on earning as much as she could to support Tonje.

If I stay here I’m going to be immortal, but my mother is gone, my grandmother is aggravating and Farlan will get tired of me eventually, like all men do. I don’t have a reason to go on anymore. But I can’t kill myself here because no one dies in this place.

For some reason that seemed funny, but it had been so long since she’d laughed that the sound that came from her lips sounded like a rusty screech instead of a chuckle.

As she swallowed the next sound she leaned over the basin, watching her reflection appear on the surface of the water.

It changed to that of another woman—the same one who had been watching her from the window.

She appeared blonde and quite pretty, although she had different features, and soft, dreamy eyes.

“What do you want?” When the water rippled and changed back to her own reflection Grace stepped back, shivering.

“Permit me.” Big hands wrapped a wide length of linen around her.

She didn’t want to face Farlan in the state she was in, but she made herself do that. The kindness in his eyes made her ashamed and angry all at once. “You should knock before you come into someone’s room.”

His brows rose. “’Tis my bed chamber, my lady.”

“Is that why that chieftain guy brought me here?” she countered as she quickly picked up and pulled on the long dress Elspeth had brought for her. “So we could share the bed in your chamber? Oh, hell ,” she swore as she became trapped in the too-tight bodice.

“Be still.” Farlan untangled the laces and then loosened them. “After finding us sleeping together in the passage Darro likely expected you wished to come to me. I shall show you to our guest chamber, where you may sleep alone.”

Grace stood passively as he tugged the dress down with the impersonal touch of a runway show dresser.

Instead of saying something idiotic she’d stay quiet and let him do all the talking.

Only he was touching her, and the heat of his hands started to melt her insides again.

If she stayed here or let him take her to a room with another bed in it she’d end up throwing herself at him again.

“You don’t have to do that,” she told him. “Take me to another room, I mean. Just tell me where it is.”

“If you wish to sleep here, I shall stand guard outside,” Farlan said, his voice low and soothing. He gave her one of his reassuring smiles. “I ken ’tis all been a terrible shock for you.”

“Not really.” As she stepped into her shoes, Grace realized how sick she’d grown of people who faked their emotions so they could use her. “I’m fine. Also, stop smiling at me. I’m not a child.”

“Indeed, you’re no’.” He held out his hands. “Permit me to comfort myself by holding you?”

He was lying; he saw through her brick wall.

Or maybe someone had told him about the disastrous meeting with Inga, and the unpleasant follow-up.

Why would they, though? Everything inside Grace wanted her to let him put his arms around her, and listen to him tell her everything would be all right.

Only the cold, hard brick wall of her heart wanted no part of him or his comforting.

Her life had always sucked. Everyone she had wanted to love had used her or pushed her away.

Why should it be any different with Farlan?

“You shouldn’t depend on me to comfort you, Seneschal. It’s not a talent of mine.” She started to walk out, and then she was in his arms anyway.

“Forgive me for a selfish brute, lass.” He rubbed one big hand over her back, and pressed his cheek against hers. “I’ve gone all day wanting naught more than to do thus with you.”

She almost laughed out loud. “So if I want to kiss you, and get naked with you, you’ll say no?”

“I should like that even more.” Farlan’s hand stilled. “Do you command me now, my lady? For I shall give you what you desire, just as I vowed.”

She let herself lean against him. “I’m fine with that.”

Why am I acting like a slut again?