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Felicity walked down the empty corridor, headed back to her room. Lily had promised to arrange her a bath, and she was desperately looking forward to the prospect.

The other rooms were empty and the doors were all open, but for one, pulled to, and she heard the low rumble of Ewen’s voice from behind it. His tone was easy and relaxed, interspersed with a decidedly more feminine voice. The laird and his wife, talking in the library.

She was about to pass right by, when mention of her name stopped Felicity in her tracks.

“Felicity, yes,” Lily said in answer to an indistinct question. With a quick glance up and down the hallway, Felicity edged along the wall to listen. “I got the impression Rollo doesn’t want her to stay,” the laird’s wife added.

“Did the woman say as much?” The voice was clearly Ewen’s.

“No.” Lily’s voice was subdued, and Felicity leaned her ear closer to the cracked door. “But a woman can tell.”

“Oh can she?” Ewen chuckled. “Well, as it happens, I ken Rollo’s mind, and you speak truly.”

Felicity’s mouth went dry. The men had discussed her?

“You mean he’s making her leave?”

“Aye.”

“Aye?” Lily asked incredulously. “Come on , Ewen. You know I need more details than aye . Didn’t you see how googly-eyed Will is for her? He’s obviously totally in love with her.”

Felicity gave a little nod. Yeah , she thought. Totally in love.

She heard another low chuckle. “I can’t speak to the man’s eyes, but aye, you have the right of it. Will is clearly besotted. But it doesn’t matter.”

A chill swept Felicity, turning her blood to ice.

“How can being in love not matter?” Lily sounded crestfallen.

“Rollo speaks of a debt he owes, and nothing comes between Will and his duty.”

“A debt . . . like he owes money?”

“Och, lass, no. He’s . . .” Ewen paused, considering his words.

“The man is a staunch Royalist. Simply because the battles have subsided does not mean the Royalists aren’t fighting on, behind the scenes.

Rollo owes his fellows a debt, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned about the man, it’s that he doesn’t go back on his word. ”

“But . . . that’s horrible. You have to talk to him.”

“I have. And I plan on helping him.”

Anger tightened Felicity’s chest. The fates conspired against her, and now this man too? What had she ever done to Ewen?

“What?” Lily’s voice was a low hiss.

“Aye. I’ll show him the maze.”

“But . . . but that’s for Robert. We’re building it to try and save Robbie.”

“Why not for the woman too?”

“Ewen, have a heart,” she said in a lowered voice. Felicity heard rustling. It seemed Lily was about to bust out the feminine wiles on her husband. “Come on, honey, why can’t she just stay with us? She’ll be safe here.”

Go, Lily! Her new best friend.

“It has naught to do with my heart, lass. Rollo’s brother is out for blood, and by now most of Perthshire will think her a witch.

Soon, Rollo himself will be called to help men who rally in secret for the King.

He finds himself in a dangerous business .

. .” Ewen let the words—and their obvious implication—hang.

Dread stole the breath from her lungs. She had to leave to save her own life. Will’s honor made him stay, even though he’d likely be killed. The laird was saying as much.

“If she were to stay and something came to pass,” he went on, “Felicity would be left alone. And all the stone in Tor Castle wouldn’t be able to protect her.”

“But,” Lily protested, “you know how life is here. Once they part, they’ll probably never see each other again.”

“Aye. Mayhap.” There was another rustling, then Ewen’s voice again, soft and low. “Och, Lil’. Such emotion on your bonny face. I’ll never understand the quick tears of a woman.”

“I know.” Lily’s voice was a barely audible murmur now. “It’s the damned hormones.”

“I ken what’ll smooth the sadness from your brow.”

“You can’t mean . . .”

“Oh aye. I can mean. And I do. I’ve told you before,” he said. “A laird’s wife has duties.”

“But Ewen, I’m about to burst.” Lily’s giggle was an arrow straight to Felicity’s heart.

Felicity began to back away. Though she didn’t know Ewen, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to hear the masculine intent in his voice. She spun, taking the cold slate stones at a jog.

Ewen’s voice resounded at her back. “Aye,” he was telling his wife. “They say ’twill make the babe come faster.”

But those weren’t the words Felicity heard. It was Ewen’s pronouncement about Will, about his dedication to duty, which echoed in her mind.

Because Felicity had also learned well. William Rollo would never go back on his word. Will would stay where he was, forsaking all else, forfeiting his life to keep a promise to a friend.

Felicity slipped below the surface of the bathwater, letting the hollow nothingness of underwater fill her ears. But not even the sound of oblivion could erase the chatter in her head. She exhaled slowly, and tiny bubbles blipped to the surface.

The room was dark, candles and firelight chasing away only the most meager of shadows. She kept her eyes shut in the blackness, focusing her other senses outward. The water was soft on her mouth and soothing on eyes that still ached from recent tears.

Her hands traced along her bent knees, to her belly. She felt full there, and contemplated the firm swell between the jut of her hipbones.

Drifting up her chest, she let her fingers pause idly on her breasts, the flesh cool and lightly pebbled where they emerged from the water.

Felicity reached to her hair, floating in the tub like fronds of algae, silken and weightless. Her scalp was tight, aggressively cleaned from a brick of soap that had smelled faintly of pine.

Pushing her feet against the foot of the metal tub, she slid back up. Inhaled deeply. Her room smelled of lavender and mustiness, and her lungs clenched briefly in protest.

The maids had startled her when they’d knocked on her door, bearing the huge copper basin and buckets of hot water. She didn’t know why she should be surprised. Lily seemed on top of everything, and Felicity didn’t see why her bath would be the thing to fall by the wayside.

She was grateful for the tub, but though it soothed her body, it wasn’t doing much to lift her melancholy spirits.

She hadn’t been able to wrap her mind around it, but hearing someone else speak the words had brought the truth home. Will had work to do. Dangerous work involving kings and intrigues.

There was no place for her.

Not because Will didn’t want her, but because Will might not return alive.

She refused to think on it. Tried instead to be a purely sensory being, all thought pushed from her mind.

Slowly, she traced back down her chest, back over her abdomen, and tucked a finger between her legs.

The tender flesh there, though wet, wasn’t slick, and water rocked over her breastbone as she adjusted, canting her knees, gingerly nestling within the delicate folds of skin.

She touched and explored, lazily waiting for nerves to awaken, wanting to feel some inner fire crackling to life. Patiently, she touched and waited, but her body wouldn’t rouse.

Already she belonged to Will, her whole body his and his alone. And she thought the loneliness of it would drown her more surely that any water could.

“May I help you with that?”

She gasped in surprise, sending water sloshing onto the floor with a dull slap. It was Rollo, she sensed him now behind her. Saw his shadow flickering low along the wall.

“How’d you get in?”

His laugh was low. “I’m a man driven.”

She didn’t turn to face him. Somehow she felt too nervous, and so Felicity stared forward, listening to him walk slowly to her.

The familiar click and shuffle of his gait kindled something deep within her that none of her own touches had been able to stir. “Deprivation makes a man clever.”

A little thrill rippled through her. “You’re feeling deprived?”

“Aye.” Will pulled a stool close to the tub. His movements were unhurried, deliberate. “And a man with needs knows no obstacles.” He sat facing her. Laid his cane at his feet. His eyes roved shamelessly over her naked body. “And I need you , Felicity.”

Her skin shivered tight at the sound of desire, husky in his voice.

“Wash yourself,” he commanded.

“What?”

A wicked look creased the corners of his eyes. “I want to see you wash yourself.”

The smile she gave him was low-key. She was sad, but she’d never turn Will away. “You think I’m dirty?”

“Och, woman, not dirty enough.” Raising his brows, he gestured to the soap. “But for now, I’d watch you in your bath.”

She rubbed and turned the soap between her palms. The scent of pine drifted to her, fresh and vaguely citric. Her melancholy muted into something more poignant, more languorous.

His stare was steady on her, brow furrowed with intensity. Felicity let the soap slip from her fingers and began to lather up each arm, holding Will’s gaze all the while.

She rubbed lazy circles along her collarbones, between her breasts, over her abdomen, and back up again. The suds were thick in her palms now, and her hands glided easily over her skin.

Will tensed, a barely perceptible movement recognizable only by a lover. She knew she was driving him mad, and her own desire speared her through. An aching swamped her, at her chest, between her legs. He was sending her back. The knowledge charged the moment.

Her eyes flicked to his kilt. She saw he was aroused and it gratified her.

Slowly, she brought her hands to her breasts. Cupping them, she circled her thumbs over her nipples. They were beaded tight. Her whole body, tight. Poised and open for him.

Her lips parted. Watching him watch her stoked Felicity’s desire. Will’s eyes were hooded, his expression veiled in the shadows. He was so tall and handsome, like a fallen angel come to take her, to bear her off to some dark paradise.