Page 16 of Taken by the Ruthless Highlander (Taken by Highland Devils #6)

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“I wouldnae have asked if I didnae want to ken the answer. Are yer needs bein’ met? Perhaps by other ladies?”

Ryder suddenly grabbed her hand, his fingers curling around her wrist like tentacles, sending her heart fluttering like the wings of a bird. Morgana held her breath as she caught the spark of intrigue in his dark gaze.

“Ye’re walkin’ a fine line this evenin’,” he murmured.

The warning should have sent a chill down her spine. Instead, all she could hear was the longing he was trying so hard to hide from her.

“I already warned ye once; I had hoped I willnae have to do it again.”

“I’m just tryin’ to get to ken ye a bit better. We are, after all, bound together in this life. I’d hate to roam about the castle and never ken what yer favorite food is. Or if ye prefer mornin’ to evenin’.” Morgana’s eyes fell to his lips.

How she wanted to crush her lips to his and roll about on the floor with him as if they were children without a care in the world.

Alas, it would never happen. Ryder was too stuffy to take her in this room, and with so many witnesses present. Surely he’d rather have her all to himself.

Morgana found herself hoping he would lift her hand to his lips. She wanted to feel his hot breath caressing her skin. It didn’t have to be her hand; it could be her neck or her shoulders.

Her breathing quicking as her thoughts spiraled further. Heat ripped through her body like wildfire consuming the dry underbrush.

“What games are ye tryin’ to play with me?” Ryder asked, his eyebrow arched.

The warning in his tone was gone, carted away like the dirty dishes from the table.

“I’m nae playin’ any games with ye. But if ye like, I could teach ye another lesson in cards,” Morgana teased.

Ryder’s lips twitched at the corners as he fought back a smirk.

“Perhaps another time,” he said, leaning back in his seat.

Morgana glanced at the door, expecting servants to come rushing in with their next course. When they did not open, her heart skipped a beat.

“Tomorrow?” she asked.

She watched as he rose from his chair, pushed it to the table, and smoothed the wrinkles from his vest.

There was an air of finality about him, as if he were about to walk off into the sunset, never to be seen again.

“Maybe,” he answered.

And that was when it dawned on Morgana that he was leaving. Panic shot through her as she jumped up and made a beeline for the door.

“Ye ken, tomorrow wouldnae be a good idea, after all,” she said as the sound of Eloise’s giggle drifted to her ears.

A pang of regret twisted in her chest as she turned back to face her husband.

“And why the sudden change of mind? And dinnae tell me somethin’ has come up,” he challenged.

Morgana gave a bashful shrug. “I forgot about the picnic I promised Eloise. I havenae been spendin’ very much time with her, and she’s been cravin’ attention.”

“Is that so?” Ryder pursed his lips.

Morgana gave another shrug.

Ryder shook his head and sidestepped around her. “Well then, who am I to stop ye from havin’ fun with yer family? Ye should spend some time with the young ones. They are the most impressionable, after all.”

Confusion rippled through her as he reached for the knob and was out the door before she could protest further.

Morgana hurried out, chasing after him.

“Ye’re leavin’?” she asked, the longing clinging to her words like honey oozing off the comb. “Nae that I mind. The dining room is nay place to get better acquainted, after all.”

“Morgana.” Ryder paused in the hallway, his fingers curling around her shoulders as he stared into her eyes.

Her heart went wild. Was he about to pick her up, toss her over his shoulder, and carry her to his chambers?

The thought made her body tremble with desire and yearning.

“Aye?” she answered breathlessly.

“Believe it or nae, I too have things to do,” Ryder answered, before releasing her. Her chest tightened as she watched him walk down the hallway, his footsteps echoing off the gray stone walls. “And nay, I’m nae goin’ to tell ye what. Best to turn in early tonight.”

“Have I said somethin’ that offended ye?” Morgana pressed, but her voice was too small to carry across the distance between them.

She turned back to the dining room. The servants had already cleared away the dishes, and with nothing else to do, she walked away, letting her heart guide her path.

She chewed on her lower lip as she rounded the corner and started up the stairs. She moved slowly, dragging her feet as her mind drifted to Ryder. Where was he going so late?

She glanced out the window to her left. The moon’s silvery light had barely cut through the navy blue sky. Twilight had barely kissed the land, yet there was no reason she could see that could draw her husband out of the castle.

Pushing through the door to her chambers, Morgana wrapped her arms around herself to hold in the warmth. But not even an extra log on the fire could chase the chill away. Frustrated, she moved to her bed and plopped down. She glared daggers at the door as she tried to hold back her tears.

She could not comprehend why she was feeling so flustered. It was not as if Ryder had made any promises to her. Their dinners were supposed to be for show, so why was she letting his absence affect her so?

She pulled a pillow to her chest as she pondered the yearning in her heart. A wave of rejection crashed over her, pulling her down into the abyss of loneliness. She let out a heavy sigh as she crawled over to the headboard.

They had a deal. A simple one. But why did it feel so forced?

It wasn’t like she could turn off the jealousy wreaking havoc on her. Was he seeing someone else? Is that why he didn’t want her company?

She pulled the blanket up to her chin and closed her eyes. Only the sweet darkness behind her eyes made the turbulent waters of her mind stop.

* * *

The squawk of the magpies pulled her from her slumber. Morgana rolled onto her back, shocked to still be in her evening dress. Wiping the drool from her lower lip, she slipped out of bed and moved to the balcony.

The morning breeze flowed through her hair. As much as she wanted the dawn to bring with it a sense of new beginnings, she clung to the events of last night. Ryder’s face danced through her thoughts, plaguing her every waking moment.

“What is it with ye today?” a voice asked, just as a small hand slipped into her own.

Morgana jumped and looked down to find Eloise staring up at her.

“When did ye come in?” she asked as she glanced at the door.

“I’ve been standin’ here since the sun has come up. I just wanted to make sure ye remembered about our picnic. Ronnie says he willnae join us unless he’s certain ye’ll be there.”

“Aye,” Morgana answered as she twisted her loose hair into a bun atop her head. “I’ll be there. I’ve already made it clear to Ryder that my day is full. Besides, I’m goin’ to need yer help.”

Eloise’s eyes widened in wonder. “Oh?”

“The Laird wants us to throw a cèilidh, and I will need yer help in organizin’ it. Think ye might help me?” Morgana asked.

Eloise’s smile widened. “Do ye mean it? Ye really want me to help?” she asked as they turned back to the warmth of the room.

“Aye, of course I do.”

“Nae that I’m complainin’ or anythin’, but why does the Laird want to throw a cèilidh?”

“The weddin’ wasnae grand, and… well, the relations between some of the clan members arenae so great. And a party will get everyone together. Maybe even coax a few smiles and change minds.”

“So ye’re bribin’ people by throwin’ a party?” Eloise asked.

Her question was sharper than a two-edged blade through butter.

“Aye, I’m tryin’ to get the clan to lighten up. There’s so much tension in this castle, with half the folks thinkin’ I killed the last laird and the other half thinkin’ Ryder is a monster. We’ve got to show them that we arenae any of those things.”

Eloise gave a little shrug as Morgana went to change into a day dress. “I dinnae see how any of that matters. Folks arenae goin’ to like ye just because ye brought out a few barrels of the Laird’s best ale. Ye’re goin’ to have to do somethin’ better.”

“And that, dearest sister, is the exact reason I need yer help. Ye think of the things that I miss,” Morgana said as she took her younger sister by the hand. “But before we can think about the cèilidh, we’ve got a picnic to plan. I was thinkin’ we could make some meat pies and take them with us.”

“Oh, Ronnie will like that,” Eloise gushed as they made their way to the kitchen.

Morgana couldn’t help but glance into each room they passed, hoping for a glimpse of Ryder. As they approached his study, her chest tightened, and her breath caught. She glanced through the crack in the door, trying to spot him inside the room.

The man from Lochcairn stepped into view and closed the door swiftly behind him. Morgana looked away, trying to pretend that she hadn’t been spying on her husband. But there was no hiding the heat of embarrassment in her cheeks.

“That’s Felix,” Eloise whispered as they watched the man rush toward the foyer. “He’s Ryder’s man-at-arms.”

“What? Since when?” Morgana asked. “And how did ye ken that before I did? It seems that my husband truly doesnae want me to ken anythin’.”

“He came in a few nights ago with Ryder. Eloise wanted a snack, so I was in the kitchen when they came in.”

“I’ve seen him before,” Morgana admitted as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “He looks a bit concerned, wouldnae ye say?”

Eloise nodded her head as they turned the corner and made their way to the kitchen.

The servants were busy cleaning and cooking the morning meal. The scent of freshly baked rye bread and honey swirled around the room.

Morgana turned to Eloise as she reached for one of the aprons.

“What should we cook first? Ronnie’s meat pies or the biscuits? And ye need to go get Poppy. Ye ken very well that she’ll want to cook with us. Go and fetch her. I promise I’ll wait for ye. I’ll only get the ingredients.”

“Promise?” Eloise pointed her little finger at Morgana in warning.

“Aye, I promise. Now, go.” Morgana laughed as she watched her dart out of the kitchen.

“Ye’re the new Lady McKenzie, arenae ye?” a voice called from the corner of the room.

Morgana tilted her head as she watched a woman with wiry gray hair step out from behind a storage shelf. “I am,” she answered.

“And are ye cookin’ for the Laird?” the maid asked.

Morgana felt the eyes of the servants boring into her as if they could drill through all her secrets.

“Nay,” she answered truthfully. “A picnic for my family. Why should it matter who I am cookin’ for?”

The maid looked a bit sheepish as she swallowed hard. Her gaze darted to the other servants as if they had the answer she so desperately needed.

Morgana cleared her throat, drawing the maid’s attention. “Are ye well? Or should I have the healer come see ye?” she asked, growing concerned.

“Nay,” the maid answered, stepping back from Morgana as if she had the plague.

It was clear from the fear in her eyes that there was more she wanted to tell Morgana. But then she turned around the second Poppy and Eloise walked into the kitchen.

“Found her!” Poppy exclaimed.

Morgana tried not to let her gaze linger on the maid for too long. It broke her heart to see how wary the clansfolk were of Ryder. He wasn’t the beast everyone made him out to be. At least not to her. And she was hell-bent on proving to everyone that he was a good man and an even better laird.

“Morgana,” Eloise squealed, throwing her arms around her sister’s legs. “Poppy said ye were makin’ meat pies.”

“And ye are just in time to help,” Morgana said, trying to push out the dark shadow lingering in the back of her mind. “I need ye to help make somethin’ for all of us to share today. Think ye can help?”

Eloise flashed her a grin. “What do ye think? Now, where’s the flour? Ronnie likes his meat pies on the done side.”