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5: THE NIGHT OF THE SPIDER

SLIDING OFF THISTLE’S back, Davina winced.

Mother Mary, she was unused to riding.

After a day in the saddle, the muscles in her backside and thighs were burning.

She’d be stiff in the morning.

She then turned to her palfrey and stroked the mare’s sweaty neck.

“I’ve neglected ye, haven’t I, lass?” she murmured.

“And soon we shall part ways for good.”

Thistle gave a soft snort and nudged at Davina’s arm.

“Horses always appreciate being spoken to.” A man’s voice, laced with amusement, intruded, and Davina glanced up to see Captain Mackay standing next to his gelding a few yards away.

“Many folk don’t realize that.”

Davina gave a stiff nod before turning back to her palfrey and starting to unsaddle it.

“Aye, my father always told me to talk to my horse like it’s a friend.” Unfastening the saddle’s girth, she then reached up once more, her hand sliding across the mare’s shoulder.

“Thistle has been with me for a long while.”

“And yet ye never ride her.”

Davina’s mouth thinned.

She didn’t look Mackay’s way as she grabbed hold of the saddle and hauled it off Thistle’s back.

“I’ve not been in the mood,” she replied, so quietly she was sure he wouldn’t hear her.

However, when she turned with the saddle, she found the captain standing right in front of her.

“Here … let me take that,” he said smoothly, flashing her a grin.

Davina frowned. She didn’t trust his sudden chivalry.

And she wished he’d wipe that annoying smirk off his face.

“I can do it,” she replied.

Indeed, her father had always insisted she unsaddle her horse and rub it down after a ride, for it showed the beast respect and helped bind the horse and its owner.

Ironically, she often thought her father had a greater love for his horses and dogs than he did for his own daughter; he’d certainly shown them more tenderness than he had her, of late.

“I’m sure ye can.” Mackay stepped forward and took the saddle from her, swinging it with ease over the high wooden partition that divided the stalls inside the stables.

“But it’s been a long day … and ye are tired.”

Davina clenched her jaw.

“What, ye have manners now, do ye?”

Mackay glanced her way, his smile fading.

“Somehow, we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot, my lady,” he said, his tone sobering.

“Maybe I wish to remedy that.” Davina frowned, yet he continued, “I’ll have one of the lads rub yer horse down. Go inside … I’ve spoken to the innkeeper, and he’s preparing a chamber for ye as we speak.”

“What do ye want us to do with the coin, my lady?” Hamish called out then from the stall opposite.

The older warrior was seeing to the garron.

The stocky pony was greedily snatching at hay from a feeder while Hamish unstrapped the heavy leather bags containing Davina’s dowry.

Noting Mackay’s frown, for the warrior should have asked him that question, Davina replied, “Carry them up to my chamber, thank ye, Hamish.”

“Do ye think that’s wise, Lady Davina?” Mackay asked stiffly.

“That’s a lot of coin to protect overnight.”

Davina raised her chin, holding his gaze.

“All the more reason for me to keep it close,” she pointed out.

“I can’t risk losing that dowry … and I wish to take responsibility for it.”

“The innkeeper assures me all the chambers have locks on the door, Captain,” Hamish rumbled.

“Good,” Mackay replied.

“Even so, make sure my chamber is next to Lady Davina’s.” He nodded to Davina before gesturing once more toward the stable doors.

“Go on, my lady. The rest of us will follow soon enough.”

Davina went, although not without stroking Thistle’s nose first. She then walked from the stables and stepped out into the gathering dusk.

It had been a glorious day—with warm, soft air and golden light that made the world beautiful.

The sunset was just as lovely, and the western sky blazed as if on fire.

They’d reached Eredine at the end of the day’s travel, a small hamlet set amongst thick forest near the shore of Loch Awe.

It was a bonnie spot, yet they wouldn’t be lingering.

Heaving a sigh, and giving her aching backside a gentle rub, Davina crossed the empty stable yard to where the inn, a squat stone building with two wings behind it, crouched.

The thick press of trees surrounded them, and the sharp scent of pine hung heavily in the air.

Inside the inn’s common room, Davina found a scattering of local men seated at trestle tables.

They looked up with interest when she entered.

Ignoring them, Davina took a seat near the open doors, where a pleasant breeze wafted into the stuffy space, mingling with the toothsome aroma of baking pastry.

The innkeeper’s wife bustled over with a jug of ale and some cups.

“Yer chamber will be ready presently, my lady,” she assured her with a warm smile.

“Thank ye,” Davina replied, smiling back.

It felt strange to smile; the expression pulled at muscles in her face she hadn’t used in a while.

“We have grouse pie for supper this eve … I hope that’s pleasing to ye?”’

“Aye, that’ll do nicely.”

The innkeeper’s wife bustled back to the kitchen, leaving Davina alone.

It was pleasant sitting here quietly, and she was halfway through her cup of ale when the rest of her party entered the common room.

Hamish and Archie carried the coin-laden sacks and Davina’s belongings upstairs to her chamber, while the others took a seat at a nearby table.

Lennox Mackay didn’t join them.

Instead, he sat down at her table.

Reaching forward, he picked up the jug, pouring himself a cup of ale.

Then, taking an experimental sip, he nodded.

“Not bad.”

Davina didn’t answer.

She wished he’d take the hint and move to another table.

She was enjoying her own company and had been looking forward to dining on grouse pie—alone.

But Mackay didn’t move.

The remainder of their party descended the rickety wooden stairs then, and Hamish handed Davina a heavy iron key.

“Yer things are all safely locked up in yer chamber, Lady Davina,” he informed her.

Davina’s mouth lifted at the corners.

“Thank ye, Hamish.”

The older warrior held her eye.

“How are ye faring after the day’s journey?”

“Well enough,” she replied with a sigh.

“Although I imagine I will feel it tomorrow.”

“A hot bath should help remedy that, my lady,” one of the other warriors, Fergus, called out.

“Shall I ask for one to be brought up after supper?”

Her smile widened.

“Aye, thank ye.”

Davina turned back to her table, as Hamish joined the others, noticing that a groove had formed between Mackay’s brows.

Of course, he didn’t have the easy familiarity that she did with her father’s men-at-arms.

There was no warmth on their faces when they looked his way.

The innkeeper’s wife and three serving lasses emerged from the kitchen then, bearing trays of fragrant pie.

The men welcomed them with grins and words of praise as the women set the pies down in front of them.

And despite the warning that they were still piping hot from the oven, they fell upon their supper like wolves.

Davina ate with more caution.

Nonetheless, she had to admit the pie was delicious, with a suet pastry and well-seasoned filling.

As she ate, she almost forgot Lennox Mackay was seated just across the narrow circular table.

Unfortunately, the reprieve didn’t last.

“The pie must be good,” her table companion commented eventually.

“I swear that’s the first time I’ve seen ye eat with any enthusiasm.”

Davina glanced up to see that the captain was watching her.

His observation unnerved her a little.

She hadn’t realized he’d taken note of such things over the past months.

Whenever they’d eaten in the hall at Kilchurn together, he’d appeared to ignore her.

In truth, she was a little hungry.

The discovery surprised her.

For a while now, her appetite had been poor.

Melancholia had dogged her steps ever since Blair’s death and robbed her enjoyment of food.

“It must be all the sunlight and fresh air,” she replied.

“I hear a nun’s meals are sparse indeed.” His mouth curved.

“Bread and ale to break yer fast in the mornings, with little more than vegetable pottage and cheese at noon.” He glanced down at the pie he’d nearly finished.

“Ye certainly won’t be getting fare like this.”

Davina shrugged.

“As long as they don’t starve me, I care not.”

A woman’s shrill scream ripped Lennox from a deep slumber.

Catapulting himself from his bed, he staggered and put a hand out to steady himself against the lime-washed wall.

Blinking, he tried to focus.

God’s blood, what was that?

Another shriek traveled through the wall, and Lennox lunged for his braies.

Davina.

Rushing barefoot and half-naked from his chamber to the one next door, Lennox moved to the door and tried the handle.

It was locked.

“Lady Davina!” he called.

“Is something wrong?”

The patter of bare feet on wooden floorboards followed, and then the grate of a key in the lock.

An instant later, the door was yanked open, and Davina Campbell stood before him.

Lennox stilled at the sight of her.

Clad in nothing but a thin night-rail, her hair unbound, Davina seemed a different woman to the one he’d accompanied from Kilchurn.

The night-rail was made of a thin gauzy material, and the glow of the lantern behind her outlined her lithe, naked form underneath.

Catching himself, Lennox snapped his gaze to her alarmed face.

“What is it?”

“A spider,” she gasped, her chest heaving with alarm.

“It’s huge!”

Lennox huffed out an annoyed sigh.

“A spider? God’s troth, woman. Ye screamed as if the Bean-Nighe herself had climbed in yer window.”

Face flushed, gaze wide, Davina was too panicked to take offense at his tone.

Instead, she shook her head and gestured frantically over her shoulder.

“Look!”

Humoring her, even as his irritation quickened, Lennox’s gaze traveled to the wall above her bed.

He frowned. The lass wasn’t wrong.

It was a beast. All the same, there hadn’t been any need to scream the inn down.

He wouldn’t be surprised if she’d woken everyone.

Fortunately, he couldn’t hear any slamming doors or hurried footsteps behind him.

Entering the chamber, Lennox approached the wall, studying the insect.

Covered in bristly brown hair, it had dark markings on its back and legs.

“It’s a wolf spider,” he said after a moment.

“Harmless enough.”

“I can’t sleep with it hanging over my head,” she gasped.

“What if it falls upon my face?”

“It’s not likely to … wolf spiders are shy. It’s probably more afraid of ye than ye are of it.”

Davina shuddered in response, wrapping her arms around her body.

Indeed, she did look alarmed.

“I don’t like spiders,” she admitted huskily.

“Ever since my cousin tormented me with them as a bairn.”

Lennox sensed her embarrassment then, which kindled like a flame now that her panic was subsiding.

It was tempting to tease her, yet something prevented him.

He needed to stop engaging with this woman so much.

Soon enough, she’d be out of his life for good.

“I hope someone gave yer cousin a thrashing for such behavior,” he replied.

She pursed her lips and then shook her head.

Loosing another sigh, Lennox raised an eyebrow.

“Would ye like me to turf the spider out?”

She nodded.

“Please.”

“Right, raise the sacking on the window while I find something to pick it up with.”

Davina moved to do as bid, while Lennox fetched an empty cup and the shovel from by the cold hearth.

It wasn’t a cool evening and so the innkeeper hadn’t lit a fire.

Moving across to the insect, he deftly placed the cup over it while scooping the shovel carefully up underneath.

A moment later, he deposited the wolf spider out the window.

“Thank ye.” Davina approached and lowered the sacking.

“I appreciate yer assistance.”

Her voice was low, and she appeared to be avoiding his gaze as she retrieved the cup and shovel from him and returned them to their former places.

“And I’m happy to be of assistance, Lady Davina,” he replied.

He couldn’t help but let a teasing edge creep into his voice now.

Davina turned to him then, yet she didn’t look at his face.

Instead, her gaze rested on his bare chest. She’d done so to avoid his eye, yet as the moments drew out, he marked the way her lips parted ever so slightly, and how her gaze slowly slid down his torso to where the braies he’d hastily donned sat low on his hips.

Lennox went still. He couldn’t believe it.

The lady was admiring him.

And as the silence between them swelled, Lennox found himself paying her the same compliment.

Through her filmy night-rail, he could see the dark circles of her nipples and areole.

Her breasts were small and pointed, and Lennox couldn’t help it; he stared at them for a few moments before his gaze slid south, over her lissome form to the dark triangle of her sex.

His heart kicked against his breastbone then, and his groin stiffened.

Christ’s blood, Davina Campbell wasn’t the sort of woman he usually lusted after; he preferred his lasses buxom, with easy smiles and uncomplicated natures.

But, tonight, his body had other ideas.