Page 12 of Seduced By the Squire (Diamonds in the Rough #1)

“I’m afraid I’m getting quite obsessed with him,” Llinos muttered to Cwtch as she ruffled him between the ears. “But don’t tell anyone. It could be dangerous for us both.”

The dog yawned. Over the last week she had fallen into the habit of talking to him in Welsh. It did her good to speak her language and it served another purpose. No one would understand she was talking about Duncan if she didn’t say his name out loud.

Still she looked around before she carried on. “There is so much I would like to know about him. Why is he here in England if he was raised by a band of Scottish minstrels and he hates the English?”

The dog closed his eyes and let out a series of whimpers when she tickled his belly. She gave an amused snort. Evidently, he did not care about her questions and was only staying for the caresses.

“Are ye torturing the wee beastie? Is that why ye rescued him, so ye could have a victim at hand?”

Caught out, Llinos gave a start and then remembered she had mercifully been speaking in Welsh, which Duncan did not understand. He would be none the wiser as to what she had been talking about. Or… She didn’t think he understood Welsh, but had she not just bemoaned the fact that she didn’t know enough about him? Had he understood the questions she had addressed the dog? She dearly hoped not.

She hid her confusion under a mask of outrage. “I’m not torturing him, I’m stroking him. Can’t you tell the difference?”

“Evidently not.”

He strode forwards, all masculine intent. She inhaled sharply. My. Had a more forbidding man ever drawn breath? Not in her presence, at any rate.

“And what were ye muttering about while ye stroked him?”

She gave him her sweetest smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Aye, I would, or I wouldn’t ask.”

“Well. What if I did not want to tell you?

“Then I would find a way to make ye talk.”

Dark desire pooled between her legs. “That sounds promising,” she said in a breath .

He gave an exasperated shake of the head. “It is supposed to sound ominous.”

Ominous! Being at his mercy did all sorts of things to her insides but make them quake with fear was not one of them.

“Do your worst,” she said, feeling deliciously wicked. Finally he was about to punish her. Ever since he’d threatened to do it, she had fantasised about what he would do to her. There was only one certainty. She would love whatever he decided to do.

He looked her over, eyes clouded with desire. “Ye might regret uttering those words, lass.”

“I doubt it.”

He came to stand right in front of her, a tower of strength. “Do ye ken I could throw ye over my lap and spank a confession out of ye?”

She smiled, if a little nervously. “I’m not worried. If you threw me over your lap you’d only end up pleasuring me.”

“Is that so?” He arched a brow as if he could not believe she had dared contradict him. “I could slip my hand under yer skirts and tease ye until ye go mad with need and confess everything.”

“If you did that you would make me come after three strokes and then I surely would forget everything. So there would be no confession worth hearing.”

“I could pound into ye until ye lose yer mind and tell me every little thought that ever crossed yer mind.”

“I’m sure you could but if I was delirious with pleasure you wouldn’t know if what I told you was the truth or not.”

He raised his chin. “So how am I to get the truth out of ye?”

“You could always ask me nicely, I suppose.”

He rolled his eyes. “For the love of Christ, woman, will ye please tell me what ye were telling that ugly dog of yers?”

Llinos giggled at the poor effort at graciousness. “If you must know I was talking about you.” She knew she had given in too easily, but she was curious and after their banter Duncan might be more amenable to answering her questions.

“Me?” He sounded surprised.

“Well… How did you end up in England?” she blurted out. “And where is your father now?”

She waited, knowing he might be angry at her for asking so many questions. But to her relief, he relaxed and a corner of his mouth lifted. “I was wondering how long it would take ye to start asking questions,” he said, chuckling to himself. “Congratulations, lass, it took even less time than I thought it would.”

She reddened. “I’m sorry. It’s only… I’m very curious.”

“Dinnae be sorry,” he said, lifting her head with a finger under the chin. “I like ye being curious.”

His smile broadened and she understood that, far from being angry, he had purposefully kept information from her to see if she cared enough about him to ask for the rest.

Well, it seemed she had passed the test. Not that it was hard because she did care, a lot more than she should.

“Shall we take a walk? I could tell ye everything then. Crutch here could do wi’ a run. And, ideally, another dip in the river.”

“His name is Cwtch, not Crutch, you horrid man! And he’s perfectly clean,” Llinos protested. She gestured at Duncan's clothes. His tunic was streaked with rust-coloured sand and his hands were covered with grease. Evidently, he had been cleaning Lord Masterson’s armour when he’d spotted her. That he had come to her before washing proved he had not wanted to waste an opportunity to speak to her. The thought warmed her. “You’re the dirty one around here!”

He planted his gaze into hers. “Lass, ye have no idea.”

*

They set off, Duncan deciding for once to chance it and make up an excuse afterwards for their absence if need be. Cwtch would help, they could always pretend he had helped Llinos look for the dog when he had disappeared from view all of a sudden. He only took the time to wash his hands and shake his tunic before running back to her.

The day was warm, but not as hot as it had been. Autumn was finally on its way. Bird song filled the air with sweet sound and the whole forest was swaying in time with the breeze. Duncan waited, knowing it would not be long before Llinos succumbed to the temptation of asking him the questions jostling in her mind. He could see her lovely lips parting in readiness. Oh, those lips… He would never forget how they had wrapped around his shaft, engulfing it in tight, wet heat. Their afternoon at the cottage already felt like a lifetime ago.

She turned to him and he refrained from smiling.

The interrogation was about to start.

“Why are you here at Pitcairn Caslte if you hate being in England? And why are you squire to a man you obviously don’t like or respect?”

He gave her slanted look. The first part of the question, he had fully expected. The second one took him by surprise. The woman was perceptive. Or perhaps she was not, and she had just picked up on something that was there for everyone to see…

“Is it that obvious?” he asked, frowning. Had anyone else picked on the animosity he felt for Masterson? Had the man himself? He hoped not.

She smiled reassuringly. “It is to me. I told you. I watch what people do when they think no one is looking, not what they say in public. So don’t worry. From the way you act or talk in front of Lord Masterson, no one would suspect a thing. But if you want to hide your real opinion you might want to stop compensating for the way he treats people.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… When we stopped at the inn that night with Lady Mary, for example, I saw you go to the innkeeper to pay for the broken ware.”

He winced. He’d been so sure no one had seen him do so! “Were ye watching me?”

“I always am,” she replied, blushing a little. Aye, he’d had the right of it when he had thought her adorable the day she’d come to him. The woman was far too adorable for her own good – and his. “And I could give you a dozen such examples.”

“Ye are unusually perceptive, lass,” he murmured. How had she read so much in what he had done? It could simply have been seen as common courtesy… But she was right, he did try to compensate for Masterson’s callous ways whenever he could. Every day brought a new opportunity to do so.

“Thank you,” she said with a tilt of the head. “I like to think I am perceptive. And I cannot help but notice that you haven’t answered my question.”

Perceptive and stubborn then. It should irritate him. It only made him smile.

“I didn’t choose to serve Masterson, and I’m not his squire exactly,” he finally admitted. “That’s what he tells everyone because the truth makes him look bad.”

“And what is the truth?” Duncan had never like being questioned but there was something about Llinos that made it all right. She seemed genuinely eager to know all there was to know about him. And so he simply told her what he had not told anyone else at Pitcairn Castle.

“I am here to repay a debt.”

“A debt?”

“Aye. One day last year, the troop was playing in a castle near the English border. Many of the guests were English. Masterson was amongst them,” he explained with a sigh. “One night, one of the pipe players got drunk and decided that the best thing to do was to mess wi’ the guests’ horses. He went to the stables in the middle of the night and opened all the doors. Then he scared them so they all bolted away. Eventually the grooms brought them back but Masterson’s warhorse was never found.”

“Most likely he was stolen by someone who could not believe their luck at seeing such a prized animal trotting into their backyard,” Llinos observed.

“Most likely. Ye can imagine how that went down. The stallion was still young and worth a fortune. E’en if they had pooled all their resources, the minstrels would ne’er have been able to repay him in ten years.”

“So you offered to pay the debt in the youth’s place?” Llinos sounded outraged.

“Aye, weel…” Duncan ran a hand through his hair. “What else could I do? The fool was only young. Everyone makes mistakes.”

He did not add that he had felt responsible for the lad’s decision to get drunk that night. His eye had been caught by one of the maids at the castle and he had tried to attract her attention from the moment they’d arrived but the woman had only had eyes for the older Duncan. Knowing the youth was infatuated with her, Duncan had ignored her advances, not wishing to make an enemy out of someone who looked on him as a brother.

But one evening she had cornered him in one of the corridors and pressed herself against him to try and steal a kiss. Stuart had walked in on them while she had her arms about his neck and drawn the wrong conclusion.

When he’d heard the commotion in the stables later that night, Duncan had immediately known who would be responsible for the pandemonium – and why.

Ironically the maid, who hated the English with a passion, had been impressed by Stuart’s taunt and finally taken an interest in him. In the end, the lad got what he wanted. Last Duncan had heard, they were married and had a bairn on the way. Everything had turned out well – except for him. He was now effectively Masterson’s slave.

Still, he did not regret his decision. He would do the same again tomorrow if he had to.

“My da had died the previous year and I had no real reason to stay with the troop. They had raised me, looked after me, fed me, taught me everything they knew, loved me in their own way. I felt I owed it to them to make sure they could walk away from the castle without trouble,” he explained. “It was my way of thanking them. Anyway, as ye can guess, I have no money and no possessions to my name so Masterson thought to use my body instead.”

“As a sort of personal guard?”

He allowed himself a smile. “Aye, lass, definitely not in the same way ye thought of using it.”

Llinos flushed bright red. Och, but she really was adorable. Beautiful even. How had he ever thought otherwise?

“Yes, well, I had assumed as much…” she mumbled.

“I dinnae think I could have risen to that challenge even if he’d paid me a king’s ransom,” he added wryly. “I told ye. I like breasts. Cock, not so much.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing.”

Duncan’s eyebrows shot upwards at the unexpected comment. Well… The lass was definitely getting bolder. He loved it.

“Mayhap. Still, I ken what I’m getting.” In one swoop of his arm he had her flush against him, one hand at her hip, the other on her breast. “Mm, aye. Softness, everywhere,” he purred in her ear. “That’s what I like.”

“I prefer hard, masculine bodies,” she answered in a whisper.

“Then ye’re in luck,” he growled. “I’m hard all over.”

“Yes, I can feel that.”

She sounded breathless, expectant. His head went down a fraction, and then reality hit. Had he just made to kiss her? Nay, surely not! Kissing was not part of the bargain! Theirs was a cold arrangement, nothing more! He had told her as much and he had every intention of keeping his word.

He abruptly let her go of her and resumed the walk. There would be no touching from now on, except when they fucked.

“Masterson is a coward,” he said, determined to carry on with their conversation as if nothing of importance had happened. “It seems that having a big brute nearby makes him feel safe.”

“I can understand that,” Llinos murmured.

“Aye? A big brute would make ye feel safe?”

“Not any big brute. But you, yes. Having a hulking Scotsman at hand is just what every woman needs to sleep soundly at night.”

“Masterson is not a lass but it seems that he sleeps better wi’me within shouting distance,” he snorted.

“That I sympathise with as well.”

Duncan couldn’t help a smile. “Are ye saying that ye would sleep better wi’ me around, my lady?”

*

My lady .

Llinos’ head spun as they made their way back to the castle. Duncan had used her title as an endearment, while speaking in his normal accent and using the intimate tone of voice reserved only for her. It was a heady combination, because it was as if he’d acknowledged who they both were – and accepted it.

It seemed to her that something changed between them that day. For the first time he had behaved as if he did not resent the difference between them. Even more significantly, he had not drawn her into the woods to have her way with her but to just to talk and be with her. Say what he might, he was starting to see her differently, as more than a woman he wanted to fuck. He had just opened up about something private – and painful.

And what he had revealed had shocked her to the core. He’d been bought for the price of an animal! A prestigious, expensive, well-trained warhorse, admittedly, but an animal nonetheless. It was outrageous and she wondered how she would manage to hide her disgust the next time she saw Lord Masterson. The more she saw of the man, the less she liked him.

They soon reached the lists. Llinos leaned against the outer wall to gather her thoughts before walking through the gate. Duncan waited by her side for her to catch her breath. Suddenly, he slapped his hand on the wall by her head, making her jump.

“What was that?” she asked as he made to throw something away.

“Nothing.”

Frowning she turned to look at the wall. Duncan instantly swivelled her so she was facing him again.

“Dinnae look. There’s another one.”

“Another what?”

He made a face and urged her away from the wall before answering. “Another spider,” he said in an apologetic whisper.

A gasp escaped her lips when she understood what he’d done earlier. He had stopped a spider from crawling all over her. A shiver ran along her spine at the thought of the animal getting stuck in her hair. “Thank you. How did you know I hated spiders?”

He let out a snort. “Lass. If ye think I haven’t noticed the way ye scream every time one of the wee beasties creeps past ye then ye think me a blind fool! ”

Llinos went very still. He had noticed. Even more significantly, he wanted to help.

“No,” she said in a breath. “I never thought you were blind or a fool, but I never thought you would…” She stopped and changed the topic. “Do you think you could bring me a few strips of dried venison next time you see me? Some for Cwtch and some for me. I confess they are my favourite treat.”

He arched a brow. “Are they? I thought ye didn’t eat meat.”

She shook her head in disbelief. He had noticed that as well! “It’s only red meat I don’t like. How do you know?”

“Lass, ye’ve been at Pitcairn Castle for three weeks now!” He laughed. “I must have seen ye eat two dozen times at least.”

Yes, but always from a distance. And she had never told him about her dislike of red meat. He could have thought her refusing a particular dish was just a coincidence. Yet he had observed everything and drawn the right conclusion when, every evening, she had to remind Lord Masterson she didn’t want any of the roast lamb the servants invariably presented him with.

“I… I think we had better go back inside,” she said, feeling slightly light-headed.

“Aye,” he agreed slowly .

Llinos immediately went to her bedchamber. She had to tell someone what was happening or her chest would burst with the effort of keeping everything in. She had crammed so much in three short weeks that she felt like a different person.

Angélique.

Her friend would be the ideal person to confide in. She would not judge her. Llinos selected a piece of parchment and dipped her quill in ink.

Dear Angélique,

I am this moment staying at Lord Masterson’s castle in Shropshire while I await for Sir Benedict to return from Kent. We shall be married as soon as he comes back, in about two months’ time. But…

Llinos turned her quill between two fingers, debating how to word her confession. Should she be totally honest? How much should she reveal?

One look at the dog sleeping at her feet decided her. She would bare her soul.

But I have no desire to through with it. You see, I’ve had second thoughts about this marriage from the start and now, I have fallen for another man. I doubt anything can come of it, as he is in possession of neither rank nor fortune, but it has confirmed the fact that I want more from life than marriage to a man who is indifferent to me as a woman, and only wishes to ensure the legitimacy of his children. I doubt Sir Benedict even knows what colour my eyes are – or cares.

Duncan was not indifferent to her as a woman, and he knew not only the colour of her eyes but that of her nipples – dusky pink, as he’d informed her that day at the cottage – her intimate curls – burning copper – her freckles – cinnamon – and, most shockingly of all, her intimate folds. When he had told her, his lips shiny with her pleasure, that he had never seen a softer shade of pink she had almost spontaneously combusted.

It was not just the raw carnality between them that had her enthralled. As he was supposed to make a woman out of her, it was perhaps understandable that he took note of her body. But more to the point, he had seen her fear of spiders and meant to spare her the sight of them. He had watched her attentively enough to note that she never partook of the roasted meats Lord Masterson kept plying her with. Someone not interested in her would never have noticed these things. He cared for her, and the thought was intoxicating. Had she not bemoaned the fact that Sir Benedict did not really know her? Had she not wished she could find a man who liked her because of who she was?

Today Duncan had proven that he could be that man. How was she supposed to fight the attraction now ?

Duncan MacQuarrie, squire to Lord Masterson, has quite stolen my heart. He is so forbidding, so unashamedly masculine… I admit that it makes me feel rather powerless. In a good way. It is difficult to explain but I am sure you would understand if you got but a glimpse of him. It was all it took for me to fall under his spell.

I hope to write to you in a few weeks to tell you how the whole mess has been resolved.

Your friend,

Llinos

Before she could think better of her decision and burn the incriminating letter, she went down to the great hall.

“My lord, I have a letter I wish to send to my friend Lady Angélique Delacourt at Belvoir Castle, about a day’s ride away to the south. Do you have a man who could see to it?”

“But of course,” Lord Masterson answered.

At the last moment doubt seized her. What if he opened the letter before confiding it to his man? He was here to guard her virtue, what if he wanted to ensure she was not writing to a man instead of a lady friend? What would his reaction be when he read that she did not wish to marry Sir Benedict and had fallen for Duncan instead?

It would be a disaster.

Before she could say anything else Lord Masterson took the letter with a bow. His manners towards her were becoming more and more courteous as the days went by. On occasion, the odd thought that he would have liked to court her himself had crossed her mind before she rejected it as ludicrous. Surely he would not be entertaining such ideas about a woman who was betrothed to his friend?

“MacQuarrie will see to it,” he told her. “He can visit my man at Hackworth Caslte while he’s there. We discussed it only the other day. The west battlements are in need of repair and Evans is supposed to send me a list of all the necessary expenditure. MacQuarrie will bring the list when he comes back.”

Llinos’ heart plummeted. Not Duncan. The last thing she wanted was to have him spend time away from her. Writing the letter had been a liberation, admitting to her forbidden feelings had eased some of the weight from her shoulders but if it took Duncan away from her then it was hardly worth it.

But she could not think of a way of asking someone be sent in his place without raising dangerous suspicions. When he was summoned, Duncan took the letter from Lord Masterson without glancing at her.

Well at least she was assured Lord Masterson would never read it .

Duncan turned towards the door.

“Wait!” Llinos cried, unable to be parted from him just yet, and in that cold manner. “I’ve forgotten something. I will be only a moment.”

She rushed back to her room with a beating heart, broke the seal wax, dipped her quill in the ink once more and added a line at the bottom of the missive.

Be sure to tell me in your response what you thought of the man delivering this letter. I think you can guess why!

Slightly breathless, she handed the newly sealed letter to Duncan. He gave her a perfunctory nod. No one would suspect him of having buried his head between her thighs or ridden her to the edge of madness only days ago.

She stayed in the courtyard until the noise of his horse’s hooves faded away. What would she do now?

As if to add insult to injury, it rained for the whole three days Duncan spent away from the castle. Apart from looking after Cwtch, who obliged her by making sure he needed a bath at least once a day, Llinos did not have anything to do. No rides across the country to take her mind off licentious thoughts, no dips in the river to cool her heated blood, no visits to the village to meet with people who would talk to her about anything but a certain surly Scot .

All there was to do was stay indoors, avoid Lady Mary, have long lie-ins, retire early to bed – and obey Duncan’s orders.

I want ye to learn to touch yerself while I’m gone. Dinnae think I will not ken if ye don’t do it, because I’ll ask ye to show me when I come back.

How she had not collapsed in a heap when he had whispered the lewd words in her ear, she would never know. Trust the man to tell her something as shocking while she was in plain view of everyone! Of course making her uncomfortable was exactly what he had wanted.

And so here she was, lying in bed with her legs spread wide and her hand draped over her core.

Llinos bit her lip. Where on earth was she supposed to start? There was no way she could recreate the sensations Duncan had wreaked inside her with his tongue, of course, but even with his fingers. She had no idea what he had done.

But then she imagined his displeasure if she admitted that she had not even tried. Lying was not an option, the man would make her spew out the truth before she had time to blink and then he would be displeased.

Closing her eyes, Llinos curled her fingers.