Page 2 of Seduced By the Squire (Diamonds in the Rough #1)

“I hope you will forgive me for all the extra precautions I took last night, my lady, but Sir Benedict is adamant I should keep a close eye on you. As you know, he cannot afford to marry a woman whose virtue is in question. But I guess the real question is, have you given him reason to suspect you of lewd behaviour?”

Llinos blinked. Had Lord Masterson really dared to ask her that humiliating question? In front of all the people assembled in the hall, no less? This included Duncan who, placed where he was, could not have failed to hear everything.

“No, of course not!” she said as firmly as she dared. “No one could ever accuse me of lewd behaviour.”

Her cheeks burned when she recalled the scene in the lists the evening before. She had gone to a stranger to ask him to bed her. That she had not actually said the words out loud and that he had not acceded to her request hardly made her behaviour acceptable.

“Good, because I have no wish to assign a guard to your person by day and post someone in front of your door at night.”

Was he trying to embarrass her? She could tell everyone was listening to their conversation, most especially the blond man making no attempt to avert his gaze. The look on his face was one of wry amusement. He was enjoying watching her squirm and refute any accusation of lewdness. Llinos could easily imagine what he thought of her denial, and she could not even blame him.

Was he about to speak up and tell his master that she had propositioned him last night and he had better assign a guard to her day and night? It did not seem impossible and would be a good way to make her pay for her impudence.

“I assure you there will be no need to trouble yourself,” she murmured, desperate to put an end to the discussion.

“Very well.” To her relief, Lord Masterson seemed to accept her word without hesitation. “Now, to business. MacQuarrie, go see to my horse. I think I will pay a visit to my man in the village today.”

Duncan got up and nodded. “Yes, my lord.”

Once he was gone Llinos found that she could not eat another thing. She dipped her fingers into the bowl of scented water a servant offered her when she got up and excused herself .

A moment later she was breathing in the morning air from the top of the battlements. The day promised to be hot again. She closed her eyes and sighed. For months on end, she would have nothing to do but wait for Sir Benedict’s return and hope he’d changed his mind about marrying her somewhere between here and Kent.

“So, my lady.”

The deep voice almost made Llinos jump out of her skin. Once again Duncan had chosen his moment well. They were alone, away from prying eyes and ears. Supposing she had wanted to call for help, no one would have heard her. Supposing she had wanted to flee, she couldn’t have. His massive frame was blocking her only way out. Trying to force her way past him would be too dangerous. She might well plummet to her death.

But…

She did not want to call anyone, she didn’t want to run.

Heart pounding, she waited.

“So,” he repeated, coming closer. “You need to be kept from acting upon your unlady-like urges if I understand correctly. Your future husband fears you will go and seduce all the men you see, nobles and servants alike…” He shook his head in mock concern. “I cannot help but sympathise with the poor man. After what happened last ni ght I understand why he would be worried.”

“It’s not what you think — ” Llinos started, knowing he would never believe her after what he’d heard and what she’d had the gall to do but she could not let him accuse her of such behaviour without raising a word of protest.

“Of course it’s not,” he interrupted her. “Mayhap you fell madly in love with me and wish to marry me instead of Sir Benedict.”

The cutting sarcasm surprised her. True, she had been unusually bold for a woman, and a lady, but as a guest of his master, she was owed respect. A squire so below her should feel wary of addressing her, never mind insulting her.

“I do not wish to marry you,” she answered as steadily as she could.

“No. You just wish to fuck me.”

Oh, that word again.

“Yes.” The answer darted out of her mouth before she could think, even more shocking that what he had just said. Oh no, what have I done!

The air between them seemed to still for a moment then Duncan crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well,” he said slowly. She could tell he hadn’t expected her to be so honest. In truth, neither had she. The word had just come out of its own accord, another deplorable consequence of her body being out of control in this man’s presence. It had to stop or she would make a complete fool of herself. “Now we know where we stand, I suppose.”

He waited for her to say something but Llinos couldn’t reply, or even nod. He was too forbidding for her to think straight.

“I don’t want to marry Sir Benedict,” she suddenly blurted out.

Now that she had admitted out loud what she wanted from him, she might as well explain why, so he did not get the wrong impression. Nothing she said now would make him think any less of her anyway. On the contrary, she might redeem herself in some way. If he understood her reasoning, he would see that she had not propositioned him because of a flaw in her character but out of necessity.

“That is why I… I came to you yesterday. You heard Lord Masterson. If Sir Benedict finds me compromised when he comes back, he will call off the betrothal. That is what I want. I don’t want to marry him.”

“Mm.” Duncan’s expression was unreadable. “And what do you have against him? He seems to me like a perfectly amiable gentleman. I fail to see why a woman would not want to ally herself with such an enviable party.”

Llinos’ heart sank. This was not going well at all, he did not seem to sympathise in the least. “Sir Benedict is an enviable party and perfectly amiable, you’re right,” she said in a whisper.

She could not pretend otherwise. Not only would it be a lie, but it would not be fair on him. It was not his fault she was regretting her rash decision to marry him. But if she listed the reasons why she did not wish for this marriage to go ahead, she knew Duncan would not deem them as serious enough for a woman to reject a man like Sir Benedict over.

She stared at the floor, feeling more dejected than ever.

“Why don’t you want to marry him?” Duncan insisted. “Do you have a father threatening to disown you if you don’t?”

“No.” She did not even have that excuse. “Both my parents are dead.”

“Why then? Do you need the money this union will bring you?”

Anger, fuelled by powerlessness, surged through her. “Why should I give you any reason? You don’t really want to know, you just wish to make me feel bad for having dared to come to you yesterday, you mean to make me pay for my folly!”

“Dinnae presume to ken better than me what I think!” he snapped, taking a step towards her .

The explosion of anger surprised Llinos less than the sudden reversal to his natural accent. He was a Scot then… Of course she had suspected as much – with a name like Duncan MacQuarrie he was hardly going to be Spanish – but to have it so unequivocally proven stunned her. He sounded… well, wild, and a dozen times more dangerous.

A hundred times more enticing.

He rubbed the back of his head warily. She could tell he did not like the fact that she had been able to goad his real self out. It wasn’t hard to guess that he prized his control above everything else, not to mention that he might fear she would hold his identity against him. Scots were not exactly well considered round these parts. King Edward had negotiated a treaty with their leaders earlier in the year but the terms of it had been breached less than a month later by William Wallace and a handful of his men. They had been defeated, as could have been predicted, but now all Scots were seen as potential rebels and a threat to the crown by the English.

However, Llinos was not English, but Welsh. If anyone hated King Edward as much as the Scots, it was her.

With a sinking heart she realised that, by revealing his true identity, Duncan had made it even harder for her to resist the appeal he exerted over her. A Scot and a Welshwoman would always be natural allies.

“Why don’t you want to marry the man?” he repeated, reverting to the practiced, polished accent he would have worked hard to master. “Answer me, or lady or no lady I will…”

Instead of finishing his sentence he allowed his gaze to wander over her body, as if to decide what to do with her. Llinos was left with a few options cascading in her mind.

I will toss you over my shoulder, take you to the nearest bed and do exactly what you want me to do.

I will fuck you right here, right now, on the battlements for all to see.

She shivered because neither of these possibilities frightened her in the least. In fact she was at pains to decide which one she would rather have him do. Duncan’s face had gone hard as granite and more handsome than ever.

Still, he was waiting for her answer. There was no choice but to be honest and tell him why she did not wish to become Sir Benedict’s wife.

“Well, for one, I do not need to get married to live comfortably. I have a sizeable inheritance, you see, and I grew up fancying that this would afford me the freedom to choose my own destiny. ”

She gave a scoff at her naivety. Being an heiress had not made her independent so much as a prey of choice for greedy suitors. True, none of them had the means to pressure her into being their wife, but it was tiring – and often dangerous – to be the focus of men trying to build their fortune through a marriage with her.

Sir Benedict was, admittedly, not after her money, as he was a rich man himself, but that did not mean she did not regret accepting his proposal. He had visited her castle one day after a particularly determined suitor had cornered her, intent on using physical coercion to force her into a union. When his efforts at wooing her had not worked, Sir Huw had reverted to a more expeditious and violent method – taking her maidenhead and then letting everyone know they had no choice but to marry. Only her faithful steward’s intervention had saved her from rape.

Sir Benedict had come calling shortly after and, shaken by the assault, fearful others would try the same thing to try and trap her into marriage, Llinos had suddenly seen him as the answer to all her problems. He was amiable, young and respectful. He was honest about his motivations and did not try to pretend he was in love with her or force her into anything. Marriage to him had seemed the perfect solution. It would give her the protection she needed and make it possible for her to have the children she hankered for.

Besides, she sympathised with his own predicament. He had recently been informed that he was the closest male relative of a distant great-uncle and, as such, eligible to become an earl. But the people who would have preferred to push their own claim were pouring poison into the old man’s ear. Sir Benedict might not be legitimate, they whispered, everyone knew his mother had been a notoriously fickle woman… Wouldn’t it be better if the title went to people whose lineage was impeccable, if a little more distant? Would the earl not prefer to know his family line had been kept pure?

Sir Benedict meant to quell the rumours about his birth once and for all and then convince the great-uncle he had never met that he was not placing the family in any danger of more slander. The only way to do that was to marry a lady of unarguable virtue.

In other words, her, who had lived the life of a nun, notoriously keeping all suitors at bay.

Llinos turned to survey the landscape at her feet. Above the rolling green hills the sky was a sheet of shimmering blue. Despite the early hour, it was already warm.

“I want a husband who sees me as more than a womb for his legitimate heirs, a trophy to present to his uncle, a warranty of the purity of his line,” she said with a sigh. Was it so wrong to want more out of life than a husband chosen in a moment of panic and a loveless marriage? “I want a husband who trusts me to behave appropriately and doesn’t ask a friend to keep an eye on me, who would object to me bedding other men because he was jealous, not because he thought it would compromise his chances of becoming an earl.”

“In other words, you want to marry for love. How predictable!” Duncan was leaning a broad shoulder against the stone wall and the expression on his face was one of intense amusement. Llinos’ heart sank. She had opened up for nothing. Far from sympathising, he was mocking her.

“I am trying to tell you the truth,” she said, hurt. “I have other reasons for regretting my decision to marry Sir Benedict but if you are not ready to listen, you will either think me a fool or not believe me.”

“Try me.”

“None of the reasons on their own are very — ”

“Start talking now, lass!”

She gasped. Lass ? People, much less servants, did not address her so familiarly. Sir Benedict, who was set to marry her, had never called her anything other than ‘my lady’ .

“Y-you can’t talk to me like this!” she stammered, not sure what to make of it. It was not offensive exactly, but certainly disconcerting.

“I just did. What are ye going to do about it? Nothing.” No. There was nothing she could do. Llinos bit her lip and waited. “Besides,” Duncan added, pressing his advantage. “Ye cannae seriously object to the way I talk to ye when ye want me to f — ”

“Yes, yes, very well,” she cut in, her whole face going crimson. She wasn't sure what she would do if she heard him say that word one more time. Beg him to do it there and then was not entirely out of the question. “Anyway, as I told you, most of my objections have little to do with Sir Benedict himself. I thought I wouldn’t have to settle quite yet.”

“Why? You’re already well past the age for matrimony.”

Llinos arched an eyebrow at the man’s bluntness. “Why don’t you tell me to my face that I am a dried-up old spinster while you’re at it?”

“I won’t, because you’re not,” he said tranquilly, not in the least put out. “But ‘tis no offence to say that you must be in your twenties. I am five and twenty myself, and I don’t consider myself in my old age quite yet.”

“I am three and twenty,” she answered, defeated by his logic.

“Then we are agreed, you are well past the age of matrimony. So why don’t you want to be married?”

“I thought I could afford to wait until I chose the right man. And I don’t want to go and live in England, which will happen eventually if I marry Sir Benedict.” How had she not taken that into account when she had accepted his offer? He was stationed in the Welsh Marches at the moment but as soon as he became an earl, which was bound to happen within the year, they would move to Kent.

“Weel, I can only sympathise wi’ ye there,” Duncan said, his accent bursting through once the hate for a common enemy surged through.

“If that is how you feel, why are you here, and not in Scotland?” Llinos could not help but ask.

“I thought we were discussing yer reasons for not wanting to marry Sir Benedict, not my personal life?” he said, his voice dangerous.

The warning was clear. He would not tolerate the discussion venturing on anything too personal. Where he was concerned, of course, for he didn’t seem to have any problems interrogating her.

“We were,” she agreed hurriedly. It would have taken a stronger woman than she was to stand up to an irate Duncan MacQuarrie. “Well, if you must know, I rushed into this decision for all the wrong reasons and now I regret it.”

“What wrong reasons?”

Llinos sighed. Why had she thought he would give up so easily?

“It’s not — ” The look he threw her made it clear she had better answer. “I’ve had many offers of marriage in the last few years, each less acceptable than the other. The day before Sir Benedict renewed his offer, one of my most determined suitors had tried to… force me into accepting his suit. He argued that if I fell with a child of his loins, then I would have no choice but to accept his hand to save my reputation. And he was right. I would have been trapped into a union with him, like so many women before me.”

As she had her eyes to the floor she couldn’t be sure, but she thought she heard Duncan swear under his breath. At least he did not mock her this time or worse, say that this was only what she deserved for being such a wanton.

It gave her the strength to carry on. For the first time he seemed to lend a sympathetic ear.

“My steward mercifully came to my aid before the man could… put his threat to execution but I will admit I was shaken. I was still upset from the episode when Sir Benedict renewed his offer. Suddenly being married seemed the only way to keep such unwanted advances at bay.” Before Duncan could comment she lifted her head and looked at him defiantly. She had said enough on the subject of Sir Huw. “On top of that, I suspect that my cousin Ffion, who lives with me, has developed feelings for Sir Benedict and I am loath to break her heart. I know she would be perfect for him, but he did not even consider asking her.”

Duncan stared at her as if she had just admitted to having an eleventh finger growing out of her ear.

“That’s it? That’s yer reason for throwing yerself into a stranger’s arms and ask him to fuck ye? So that yer cousin can keep fawning at a man who doesnae want her?” The accent was stronger than ever. “Ye ken he could have asked to marry the lass, yet chose to have ye instead?”

“It’s one of the reasons! Have you even been listening to a word I said?” Llinos started wringing her hands. Indeed, she knew that her not marrying Sir Benedict would in no way guarantee Ffion’s happiness, but it was just one more thing weighing in the balance. “I told you you would mock me!”

“Weel, aye I will, if ye show yerself to be so foolish!” he snorted.

Foolish. Wanton. Spoiled. That was what he thought of her. Llinos had always found it hard to handle other people’s criticism and being judged so harshly by a man who had made such an impression on her was a blow.

There was an uncomfortable pause.

“So ye want yer betrothed to change his mind about marrying ye? Ye want him to come back from Kent, take one look at ye and ken ye’ve bedded another man in his absence?” Duncan asked at length.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Ye want him to look at yer legs and imagine them wrapped around another man’s body while he pumps into ye?”

Llinos’ throat went dry. “I…” She wouldn’t have expressed it so scandalously but she supposed it would serve her purpose. “Yes.”

“Ye want him to look at yer breasts and wonder if another man suckled them until ye begged for mercy?” he carried on. “Ye want him to imagine yer thighs dripping with seed, ye want him to look at yer mouth and imagine ye’ve been sucking a man’s cock, ye want him to torture himself over knowing how much ye enjoyed having a lover bring ye to pleasure with his tongue?”

Heavens.

Llinos would most definitely not have expressed it like that! For one, she did not possess such shocking vocabulary, for another, she’d had no idea a man and a woman could do all that. Just imagining half of the acts Duncan had mentioned caused her head to spin – and her centre to melt.

A man could suckle her, bring her pleasure with his tongue ?

Well, that sounded like something she wanted to experience for herself, and not just because it would serve her purpose.

“So, my lady? Is this what you want?” The impersonal voice was back but there was a glint in Duncan’s eyes that made her legs quiver.

Llinos could barely nod and croak her answer because, after his shocking questions, it felt as if she was agreeing to much more than before. To think she had been disconcerted to hear him say the word ‘fuck’…

“Yes,” she said eventually.

“Well…” He tilted his head and smiled. “And who exactly are you going to ask such a thing to?”

Llinos stared at Duncan stupidly.

Why, she would ask him of course, why else would they be having this conversation?

He smirked when she remained silent. “’Tis a dangerous thing to ask a man. Surely the encounter with that vile suitor of yours showed you that a man might well be tempted to take more than you are prepared to offer.” He took a step towards her, then another, forcing her to retreat if she wanted to avoid having his body come into contact with hers. “You might get hurt. They might well decide to treat you like a whore once they have you in their bed and at their mercy.”

“They wouldn’t dare, if I explained my reasons for being there!”

He snorted. “Aye, they would, and perhaps it would not be surprising, considering what you would be asking for.”

“I…” She blushed furiously. “I wouldn’t quite ask for… what you told me!” She would certainly not ask them to pleasure her with their tongue!

“No, I can well imagine. Still, one look at you and they would want to have you in all the ways a man can have a woman, one taste of your lips and they would want to feast on the rest of you, one look at your pretty little mouth and they would…”

To Llinos’ shock, he brought his finger to her mouth and traced a line along her bottom lip. His eyes had gone incandescent and something hot and heavy gathered between her legs.

“They would...?” she asked in a breath, knowing she would regret it .

The simple act of saying the words caused her to part her lips slightly. Duncan took advantage of it to slide his finger inside her mouth. Heavens. He’d just mentioned that some women liked to…

Suck a man’s cock.

That had been his shocking words. And that’s what he meant now. He meant that he thought men would watch her lips and imagine her doing… that to them.

The idea of doing it to Duncan sent fire to her loins and before she knew it she had swirled her tongue around the thumb invading her mouth.

All the warning she got was a growl. A heartbeat later she found herself turned around and pinned to the wall, caged in by a strong, warm body.

“There is something you need to understand, my lady,” Duncan purred into her ear. “You should never make the mistake of underestimating what men are capable of. Men are beasts. You are too na?ve, too innocent by far, and even though one of them tried to take advantage of you, you still haven’t learnt your lesson. If you really want your betrothed to believe you’ve been with another man, then you need to at least appear aware of what men think when they look at you.”

Llinos would have like to answer but her throat was too dry and her mouth… well, her mouth still had not recovered from the feel of his wicked finger teasing it open.

Duncan brought his lips to the crook of her neck but did not touch her. Still, her skin prickled at his proximity.

“Do you understand that from now on you must always be aware of the effect you have on men? Will you stroke your arm absent-mindedly when in presence of a man, and risk brushing against your breasts, drawing his attention to them? Will you ever lick your lips, or look at anyone straight in the eye again?”

Well… Yes, she would, because these were innocent actions and she could not be expected to control herself at all times. But she would most certainly lose some of her spontaneity, Llinos had to admit. She wasn't sure how she was going to bear it. It wasn't fair.

“Will I have to guard myself all the time?” she managed to croak. Why should she have to? It would be hell if she had to watch her every step for fear of being assaulted. “Are all men like this?”

But she already knew the answer. Now an awful lot of things made sense. The way her suitors had ogled her, with an odd expression on their faces, the way Sir Huw had pounced on her. She had thought him a scoundrel but now she was being told he’d only done what all the others had dreamed of doing. She had truly thought they were after her fortune, not her body. Now she was reconsidering.

“As far as a woman as beautiful as you is concerned, then yes, all men are like this,” was Duncan’s uncompromising answer.

“Are you?”

A dry laugh, not quite a chuckle, reached her ear. “What do you think?”

Oddly, considering their current position, the answer that came to her mind was ‘no’. Still, as she wasn’t sure quite why that might be, she did not answer.

“Should I fear you?” she asked instead.

He stilled, as if he could not understand how she could ask such a question while he was pinning her to the wall, and she had to agree that it did not make much sense.

“You tell me, my lady. Are you afraid?”

Llinos thought hard. She should definitely be afraid… but she was not. “No,” she said in a whisper.

“Don’t you think you should be?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“How about now?” He leaned into her and she felt against the small of her back something hard, something only men possessed. A gasp escaped her lips. He was aroused, ready to take her. But he didn’t press further. “In case you were wondering, that’s not the hilt of my sword.”

“I didn’t think it was.”

“One cannot be too sure with an innocent like you,” he said, his voice reduced to dark honey. “So if it’s not my sword, what is it you can feel?”

Llinos’ eyes widened. Was he really going to ask her to say the word out loud? It appeared so.

“Your…” she started, before stopping. How on earth was she going to name it? Why did she have to name it at all? Ladies did not discuss such things.

“My cock,” he supplied, giving another nudge. Oh my. His very big, very hard cock. “Say it. My cock,” he ordered.

“Your… cock.”

She screwed her eyes shut, not because she was embarrassed, but because saying the crude word had caused Duncan to give a feral growl in her ear and this in turn had sent a jolt of longing between her thighs. Her body was calling out to him, making it known in the only way it could that it wanted to be filled.

By him.

“You know what this means,” he purred. “It means I want you, I’m ready for you. I could have you right here, right now. You wouldn’t be able to stop me. We’re alone and I’m three times stronger than you. So tell me now, are you afraid?”

This time she didn’t hesitate. “No.”

He snorted, as if this was not the answer he had expected to hear. “You really are a fool.”

“I may be an innocent but I’m not a fool,” Llinos retorted. “You’re nothing like the suitor who pounced on me. I may not know what passes a man’s mind when he looks at my mouth, my hips or my breasts, but I know a considerate man when I see one, even if they go out of their way to convince me otherwise.”

“Oh, I’m a considerate man, am I? What gave me away, lass, I wonder? The fact that I’m forcing ye to repeat crude words?” he said in his deep Scottish brogue. It sounded rougher than before, as if he had decided there was no point even trying to suppress it now he had given himself away. “Or perhaps ‘tis the way I threatened to lift yer skirts and have my way wi’ye?”

“These are words,” she managed to say. “To get the measure of someone one shouldn’t listen to what they say but instead watch what they do when they think no one is watching.”

“Och aye, and what did ye see me do that was so considerate? Trap ye against the wall and press my cock against the small of yer back? ”

“You are trapping me, yes, but you chose to do so against the only section of the wall that is made of smooth stones,” she said, her lips curling up. She had not missed the fact that he had moved her a few feet to the left before caging her in. Evidently he had not wanted her to be hurt against the rough stones. “And you only pressed yourself against me to warn me about what ill-intentioned men might do, when a truly dangerous rogue would have simply thrust inside me and be done with it.”

Sir Huw had told her all the right things, worded his offer in the most flattering terms and yet when she had refused he had turned into a beast. Yes, actions spoke louder than words, she knew that at least.

When Duncan remained silent, she carried on.

“I also saw you pick up Evan the little page in the courtyard earlier and send him on his way with a tickle to the chin. And in the hall that morning you helped the servant who dropped — ”

“Verra weel,” he cut in, visibly annoyed at her perspicacity. “I am a considerate man. So considerate in fact that I will do what ye want me to do. I will take yer maidenhead, I will turn ye into such a wanton that Sir Benedict willnae want to have anything to do wi’ ye.” He swivelled her around so that she was facing him once more. “But I will do it on my own terms, do ye hear? I will take ye whenever I want, wherever I want, however I want.”

Llinos nodded faintly. Now that she could see Duncan, the Scot, not the distant, respectable squire, now that she could feel him pressed against her, she wasn’t quite sure she was safe with him. His green eyes had gone dark with intent. Should she run while she could, forget the whole crazy idea? Probably. But did she want to? No.

Besides, she did not have any other choice. After what he’d warned her about, she would never dare go to another man for fear he demanded much more than what she was ready to give. If she wanted to give herself a chance to see her betrothal broken, she would have to agree to Duncan’s conditions.

“Very well,” she said in a whisper.

“I will not kiss ye, I will not pamper ye. I will just fuck ye. Is that clear?” he asked, bringing their lower bodies in close contact.

Llinos smiled inwardly. Despite the crude words, he was still giving her a way out, and waiting to see if she would take it or not before doing anything. So much for being a dangerous beast!

“Yes,” she said more confidently. She would be safe with him. “Crystal clear.”

*

Duncan went down from the battlements with his cock hard as iron and his temper black as sin.

Why on earth had he agreed to the lady’s mad scheme?

It had been a mistake to go to her. He had meant to tease her, make her see just what he thought of her despicable attitude. She had told Masterson she did not need guarding, and she had even managed to look genuinely distressed at being mistaken for a wanton. After that performance he should have stayed well away and forgotten all about her shocking offer.

Because now he had heard her reasons for coming to him, and they were not at all what he imagined. Now he had felt her in his arms, he had heard her talk about his cock, imagined it in her mouth, and everything had been turned on its head.

Yesterday she had been an arrogant, wayward lady behaving as if he was hers to dispose of and he had wanted to teach her a lesson. Now she was a woman in a quandary and part of him wanted to help her. Another, less reasonable part of him wanted to tumble her under him and make the most of what she was offering.

The idea of plunging inside her tight, wet heat wrenched a groan out of him. He would be the first to enjoy the treasures she had to offer, to show her what her body could do, to hear her moans of pleasure, the first to make her shatter in ecstasy, and he would make sure to enjoy the opportunity to the full.

Aye, he could think of a dozen things he could do with – and to – this woman who had so foolishly come to him, and taking her maidenhead would only be incidental. By the time he was finished with her, there would not be an ounce of innocence left in her.

“Hello, Duncan. Can I help you with that?”

“With what?” he barked, turning to face Jennie, one of the kitchens scullions. He’d attracted his fair share of female attention since he’d arrived at Pitcairn Castle and she was one of the most persistent ones.

“ That, ” she said, nodding towards his groin. The short tunic he was wearing did nothing to hide the bulge at the front of his hose. “It looks in dire need of female attention.”

Oh, it was, but he was not going to give in to its demand. Frustration would be just punishment for his folly. Besides, though comely enough, Jennie did not stirhis interest in the least. Who would be satisfied with stewed turnips when they were aching to sink their teeth into roasted meat? What the scullion had to offer would not slake his lust, only whet his appetite, and make him crave Lady Llinos more.

“Go back to your chores,” he told her. Right now, the woman he wanted under him was not a blond kitchen maid but a fiery-haired lady he should never have laid eyes on. He wanted to see her sapphire eyes become stormy with passion, her creamy skin flush when she came undone under his touch. He wanted to hear her cry out his name at the height of her pleasure. “It will go down eventually.”

One could only hope.