Page 15 of The Highlander’s Auctioned Hellion (Auctioned Highland Brides #4)

Callum’s fingers skimmed down her thighs, his breath hot against her cheek as she writhed beneath him.

His body pinned her down, capturing her, the wind billowing through her hair as she felt his hard length push into her body.

Her cries and groans echoed through the ramparts of the castle as he made her scream in ecstasy.

A shaft of sunlight shattered the image as Lydia’s eyes flickered open.

“Good morning, M’Lady, did ye sleep well?”

A blush formed on her cheeks as she looked up at her maid beside the bed. Her dream had been entirely inappropriate.

“Yes, thank you,” she managed when Hannah continued looking down at her with a quizzical expression.

Sitting up in bed, she smiled at the fresh flowers that Hannah had placed beside the hearth. She enjoyed seeing what her maid had picked on her early walks each day, the flowers filling the room with a pleasant scent.

There was a bronze tint to Hannah’s skin, and her blonde hair had grown even lighter with all the fresh air.

Lydia had even seen her laughing with the housekeeper the day before.

At least someone is making new friends in this place.

Lydia pushed the covers aside and rose, getting to her feet as Hannah brought out her dress for the day.

It was the dark brown one that had been placed beside the red when she had first met the twins.

Hannah was most excited about her new wardrobe, and they both spent a little time planning what else she could wear for the day and admiring the beautiful cascading leaves that were scattered over the sleeves.

“This will look beautiful with your hair. Your mother gave you a gold clasp that would match all this embroidery perfectly.”

Lydia shook her head, smiling fondly at Hannah as she danced about the room, humming to herself.

While she waited for the maid to gather everything she would need to get ready, Lydia went to the window to greet the day.

The castle courtyard below her was filled with activity. She could see Alexander organizing some stable boys, as Callum’s enormous horse was taken out to get some exercise.

The landscape was just as beautiful as ever. The valleys and glens stretched beneath a pale blue sky in the early morning light.

There was a dark line of clouds hovering on the horizon, but she hoped they would be blown away by midday. It was still early, and she stared out into the sunlit hills with mixed feelings.

Her mother and brother would arrive soon.

Is it really only a few days until I am wed?

It still felt impossible that this was where she would remain for the rest of her life.

She already loved the castle, but her feelings for Callum were infinitely more complicated.

The Laird gave nothing away, closed off and emotionless. The only time she saw him come alive was when his eyes grew dark with lust.

Is that all he wants? A convenient wife ignored until he has need of me?

Sighing, she stared at the lake in the distance. The calm surface reflected the morning sunlight, glittering like a jewel against the wide, green expanse.

Her eyes moved over the distant shores, and as they reached the center, a dark shape rose from the water, and Lydia gasped in surprise.

“Is everything all right?” Hannah asked from behind her.

“Yes!” Lydia squeaked. “I am just a little cold, that is all.”

“I shall have your bath ready in a moment, M’Lady.”

“Thank you, Hannah.”

Her maid continued to bustle about behind her, and Lydia returned her gaze to the lakeshore.

Callum was a distant figure on the edge of it, but she could tell it was him without any difficulty.

His burly chest was completely bare, the sunlight shimmering over his muscular frame. Lydia could not see the water running in rivulets over his muscles, but she could imagine it well enough.

Some of the thoughts that my mind conjures are beyond scandalous these days.

Callum stretched his arms over his head, reaching upward into the sun, and then began walking slowly back toward the castle.

He was wearing his kilt and boots but held his léine in one hand, the white length of cloth dangling at his side.

His long hair was falling over one shoulder, and, as she watched, he tugged at it, wringing lake water from it as it dripped down his chest and over his arm.

Lydia held her breath as he came closer and closer to the castle.

Surely, the man does not intend to walk around half-naked this early in the morning!

She tracked him almost to the far wall, where he paused. There were two guards beside the exit, and they had to move out of the way to allow him admittance.

Lydia frowned at them. The guards all over the castle had doubled in number since the attack.

It did not take much to notice that Callum had stepped up security. There was a soldier on almost every outer door now.

Her eyes moved to the faint line of the cut on Callum’s shoulder. The bandage had been removed, and it appeared not to be paining him, but not knowing how it had happened still irked her.

Do I not deserve to know what I am being protected from?

With a final flick of his long, wet hair, Callum reached the center of the courtyard.

Snapping the fabric against his burly thigh, he pulled his léine over his torso. It caught on his damp skin, giving Lydia ample time to admire the sharp planes of his chest before he tucked it into his kilt and turned to head inside.

Then he paused, stopped walking, and turned abruptly, his gaze colliding with hers in the window, a knowing smirk on his lips.

Lydia dove out of sight with a gasp of dismay.

Blast it! He must have known I was watching him all along.

“Lady Lydia?” Hannah asked as Lydia plastered herself to the wall, her hands hugging the stone.

“I am sorry, Hannah,” she said distractedly. “There was a bee.”

By the time Lydia had taken her bath and recovered herself, another hour had passed.

It had been a leisurely morning, and she enjoyed a long soak in the hot water before heading down to breakfast.

The castle was still a maze to her, however, and although she had believed she was going in the correct direction, she suddenly noticed a tapestry on the wall that she had not seen before.

Frowning, she turned in place, wondering if there was anyone whom she could ask for directions.

Then, along the corridor and to her right, she heard the high sound of a woman laughing. She froze.

There was a rumbling vibration that accompanied it. The laugh was coquettish and playful, as if a man and a woman were enjoying one another’s company.

Lydia’s eyes narrowed, picturing that pretty blonde maid she had seen the night of the attack.

Walking toward a door on the far end of the corridor, she could tell the sounds were coming from inside.

Bursting through the door with a heavy frown on her face, she gasped in surprise as Alexander leaped away from a woman whom he had been embracing.

She was beautiful, about Lydia’s age, with long brown hair and bright blue eyes.

Alexander cleared his throat as the woman flicked him a fierce glare.

“Lady Lydia, this is me wife, Kristen,” Alexander said, adjusting his clothes awkwardly as Lydia hid a smile.

Well, at least he is not messing about with a maid behind his wife’s back.

Kristen was curvaceous, with a wide smile that lit up her whole face. Her hair was in disarray, but Lydia fancied it was always in some sort of state. She looked like a woman who thrived in chaos.

“How do you do?” Lydia said warmly.

Kristen bobbed a curtsy. “I am sorry, M’Lady, I have told him nae to come in here when I am workin’.”

Alexander didn’t look sorry in the slightest, grinning at his wife mischievously.

“It is quite all right,” Lydia said as Alexander snapped his heels together and bowed.

“I should be on me way, M’Lady. I’ll see you tonight, Kris,” and there was such promise in those words that even Lydia blushed.

Kristen scowled at her husband as he skipped out the door.

“Bothersome, man,” she muttered. “I am very pleased to meet ye, M’Lady.”

Her eyes moved over Lydia’s gown in an assessing way, and Lydia laughed, twirling in place for her inspection.

“It is perfect,” she said. “Thank you for all the beautiful clothes you have made for me.”

Kristen was already moving, a pin in her mouth as she reached her, tugging at a loose piece of fabric.

“This needs tightenin’, M’Lady. Come, stand here,” she commanded, and Lydia could not help but grin at her as she went about her business.

There was such an expression of intense concentration on Kristen’s face that Lydia didn’t feel able to speak until she had sewn the dress together in the way she was pleased with.

“Thank you,” she said, gazing about the room in awe.

There was fabric hanging over every surface, and it was all of the finest cloth, brocades, muslins, linens, and silks draped across walls and furniture.

The table where Kristen had been working was covered in thread, needles, fabric, and pins to the point that Lydia marveled that she could find anything.

On a stand at the back of the room was a stunning charcoal gray dress that caught Lydia’s eye immediately.

Kristen held out an arm toward it.

“Please go and inspect it, my Lady, if there is anythin’ ye wish to change it is yer weddin’ gown, ye should decide.”

Lydia stopped, mid-stride, turning back to face her.

“This is my wedding gown?”

“It is. I felt that it would complement yer alabaster skin.”

Lydia turned back to the dress. It was made from fabric that shimmered in the light from the window above her. The dark gray appeared black in places and silver in others.

She loved it.

“Oh, it is stunning,” she said, running her fingers over the sleeves, which tapered down to the wrist.

“I am doin’ the embroidery today,” Kristen said. “Dae ye have anythin’ ye would like on it?” she asked.

The dress reminded Lydia of a night sky at dusk, just before the moon was full and when the light of the day was fading.

“Stars,” she said, almost in a whisper.

“Stars?” Kristen asked, coming to stand beside her. “Oh well, why didnae I think of that? That would be perfect.”

“You are so talented,” Lydia said earnestly.

Kristen’s ears were slightly pink. “Thank ye, M’Lady, I cannae dae much but sew.”

“And what a talent to have,” she said, brushing her fingers down the dress reverently.

Kristen pulled at the skirt, lifting it to show her the layers beneath.

“This will keep ye warm if there is a wind. That church is the coldest place on this earth, I swear it.”

“Yes, my mother said it can get terribly cold here. Although, I am glad it will be summer soon.”

“Even in the summer, we can have terrible weather,” Kristen said cheerfully. “I love the cold and the damp, but I ken many who prefer the sunshine.”

Lydia laughed, but in the next second, Kristen had leaped behind her with a shriek of fear as a broom fell from the side of the room.

“What was that?” she hissed.

She rolled up her sleeves, grabbed a chair, and walked toward the edge of the room where the broom had fallen.

“I saw a rat, I swear. That thing isnae goin’ to make a nest out of yer fine things if I can help it.”

Lydia rolled her eyes as she heard little whispered voices outside and sighed.

“It’s all right, Kristen, it is no rat. Wait a moment, and I will retrieve the culprit for you.”

Kristen backed away, looking uncertain and holding the chair in front of her to protect her from marauding rodents.

Lydia went to the edge of the room where a great bundle of thread had fallen to the floor and reached inside to draw out the bundle of black fur, which was playing with it.

The kitten mewed sadly as it was removed from its playthings, and Kristen’s shoulders relaxed.

“Och, aye, Alex told me there was a wee kitten runnin’ about the place. Amy and Eilis, I have told ye nae to come in this room, have I nay?” she called, and the girls appeared shamefacedly in the doorway.

“We were lookin’ for Lady Lydia!” they said together, as perfect and sweet as could be. Lydia narrowed her eyes at them.

“Here. Take Raven back. He will get lost for days with all this fabric,” she said gently. “What did you wish to speak to me about?”

“We want a story!” they said together. It sounded like a rehearsed performance, and Lydia was not sure she believed them.

“Oh, yes?”

“In the library. The fire is lit, and we have chosen a story you could read to us.”

Lydia sighed, glancing back at Kristen, who was observing the girls fondly.

“It appears I am summoned. Thank you for showing me the dress. I am…” she paused.

What she had been going to say was, “ I cannot wait to wear it,” but, in truth, she was not certain how she felt about the impending wedding.

I am to marry a man who would rather I stay out of his way than spend time with him. It is hardly going to be a happy occasion.

“I am looking forward to seeing the finished gown,” she concluded lamely.

Kristen nodded, going to the chaotic table beside her and drawing out four or five long strips of fabric.

“I had these delivered as samples. If ye pick the one ye like best, I’ll make yer next dress from them.”

She handed them over. There was a bright emerald green, a gold, and different shades of blue going from pale to dark. They were all beautiful.

“Thank you,” Lydia said, hiding them from the inquisitive eyes of the girls. “I will pick and let you know which I prefer.”

“Right, out ye wee bairns! Ye’re stoppin’ me from workin’!” Kristen said with an exaggerated growl, and the girls ran out with squeals of laughter as Lydia followed them to the library.