Susana and the Scot (18 page)

Oh, she still knew she was a fool for feeling the way she did about him, for allowing him to kiss her, to touch her. But all that was eclipsed by complete and utter satisfaction.

She'd seduced him and he wasn't even aware
he
was the one who'd been used.

Beyond the physical pleasure, there was a deep contentment curling in her soul. He'd wanted her as much as she wanted him. And that tryst wouldn't be the last one. The glimmer in his eye was a testament to his intent.

A quiver walked through her. She would see him again. And soon. Perhaps after dinner, they could go for a walk. The armory was deserted in the evenings …

With a smile on her face, she made her way down to the library, where Papa usually enjoyed a drink before dinner. Her pulse surged when she entered the room to see that Hamish and Andrew had already arrived. Keir was there as well. It wasn't a surprise. Before the troops from Dunnet had arrived, he'd often dined with the family, though the conversation frequently revolved around their defenses. It would be interesting to watch the interaction among the men, but it would be a good opportunity to underscore her decision to support Andrew's efforts, and nip Keir's reservations in the bud.

Isobel was there, too, which caused Susana a momentary flare of panic. She and Andrew sat across from each other at the table by the window, and he was instructing her on the various uses of chessmen.

Seeing the two of them so close together, their nearly identical faces nose-to-nose, caused a pang in her chest.

Papa believed Isobel needed a father and Susana had always insisted she did not, that no woman
needed
a man. But now, in this moment, she questioned her resolve. Had it been naught but a reflection of her own pain? Had she robbed her daughter of something precious?

When the men saw her enter the room, they all stood, all but Papa, because his hip was paining him. He did, however, lift his glass to her.

“Good evening,” she said.

“Susana.” Keir bowed. “You look lovely.”

Susana blinked. Keir had never made mention of her appearance, for good or ill. That he did so now, with a determined gleam in his eye, was surprising.

“Verra lovely,” Hamish chimed in.

“Aye,” a deep voice from the window rumbled. “Verra lovely.” She couldn't stop her attention from swinging that way. Her gaze clashed with Andrew's. His burned, lighting a flicker of desire in her womb. Though to be honest, it was still burning there, that ember he'd stoked this afternoon. Likely it wouldn't take much to set it ablaze again.

Hopefully not at the dinner table.

A shiver shot through her and she turned away. “Thank you.”

“Look, Mama!” Isobel chirped. “I'm learning chess.”

Susana tried not to sigh. How many times had she attempted to interest her daughter in the game of strategy? She'd shown no interest whatsoever. Apparently Andrew's allure knew no age limits.

Isobel held up the horse. “This one is called a knight.” She waggled her brows in a meaningful manner.

Susana grinned and sauntered nonchalantly to the window. Hopefully no one noticed her eagerness to stand by his side. To feel his warmth. To breathe his scent. “Ah. The knight. I assume that one is your favorite?”

“Aye.” Isobel winked and galloped the knight over the board.

“I prefer the queen, myself,” Andrew murmured. Hopefully, Susana was the only one who noticed the evocative way he fondled the piece. And his scorching expression. And the telling way his tongue dabbed his lips.

Honestly, they needed no wetting whatsoever. They were quite tempting as they were.

“Mama?”

She blinked and ripped her gaze from Andrew's. Surely she hadn't been gaping at him? “Yes, darling?”

“Did you know there's a hole in the roof of the kennels?”

“I … what?”

Isobel nodded. “A huuuge hole.” She spread her arms wide apart to illustrate the hugeness of the hole.

“Surely it is not that large.”

“It is large enough,” Hamish chuckled from behind her, and Susana spun to face him. “Our billets are flooded.”

She glanced at Andrew—why, she didn't know—and he nodded with a chagrined expression. “Our pallets are soaked through.”

“A pity that.” Hamish sighed in a decidedly melodramatic warble. “We loved those pallets.”

She nibbled her lip. “Did you?”

“Aye.”

“Well, this is terrible news,” Papa boomed. Surely he didn't need to boom. They were all in the same room. “We shall have to find some other place to house the men. What do you think, Susana?”

She was used to this. Papa pretending to ask her advice when he really just wanted her to give him what he wanted. He'd been badgering her to move the men into the castle since they'd arrived. She couldn't have, of course. It would have been tantamount to admitting defeat.

But now …

But now it didn't feel like defeat at all. She and Andrew had decided to work together. It was only right that his men should be comfortable. In rooms with real beds. With an actual roof over their heads. A mocking voice in the back of her head added that if he were staying in the castle, he would be far more accessible. She ignored it.

It made sense to move the men into the castle. But she had no intention of making her acquiescence easy … on any of them. It simply wasn't in her nature to do so.

She tapped her lip. “Aye, Papa. You are right. We canna allow those men to stay in ruined quarters.”

Andrew and Hamish exchanged triumphant smiles, but to her right Keir bristled.

“I believe we have a lovely space beneath the mill,” she said.

Hamish
eep
ed and Papa snorted, but Susana ignored them and continued on.

“Aye, it's filled with sacks of grain and supplies. But it shouldna take long to move them.” She sent Hamish a playful wink. “There are hardly any bugs.”

“My lady. Please.” Hamish held out his hands. “Show mercy.”

“There are some lovely hallways beneath the ramparts. Of course, the men will have to sleep head-to-toe, but they are valiant warriors, are they not? Used to such conditions? Oh, and for that matter, the orchard is lovely this time of year.” She flicked a look at Keir. “Do we not have some tents in the stores?”

Keir nodded, with a determined expression on his face. Clearly her sarcasm had escaped him.

Not so Andrew. It was evident from the glimmer in his eye, the reluctant twist of his lips, and the blossom of dimples in his cheeks, he knew she was only teasing.

Isobel patted Andrew on the hand. “You can stay with me,” she whispered.

Susana blanched. Dear lord. Enough teasing.

She sighed heavily. “Ah, well. I suppose the east wing would be the best place for them.”

Papa, clearly relieved, grunted.

“I shall see to it … after dinner.”

Keir leaped to his feet, his brow drawn tight. “My lady?”

“Aye, Keir,” she said with a smile to soften his disgruntlement. It didn't help. “If we are to work fist in glove with these men, it is best if they are well rested.”

“And dry,” Hamish murmured in an aside.

And when Andrew added, in a whisper, “In a secluded bower…” a shudder racked her. She shot him a reproachful glare, but then ruined it with a smile.

Tamhas entered the room and announced that dinner was served, and they all headed for the dining room. As she made her way down the hall, Isobel threaded her fingers in Susana's. She peeped up and, eyes wide with innocence, asked, “Mama, what's a secluded bower?”

*   *   *

It was an excellent start to the evening.

Not only was Andrew able to see Susana again, and flirt with her quite subtly, she had relented on the matter of their ghastly lodgings. He was very happy for his men's sake, but truth be told, he was happier for himself.

Now he would be near her. Possibly just down a hallway.

That meant—possibly—a full night in her arms. Maybe many.

For the first time since his exile here, he was truly delighted with his fate.

What were the odds? He'd come here empty-hearted and discouraged. He'd been sure he would never find that feeling he ached for. And now, not only had he found a woman who ignited his soul, she shared in his desire for an exploration between them. With this move from the kennels, the opportunities for seduction were boundless.

As she took her seat on Magnus's right, he sat across from her. He couldn't help but notice Keir's frown. No doubt he thought this seat his spot. Andrew didn't care. He wanted to sit across from Susana, so he could stare at her all evening.

It only irritated him a little that, with a huff, Keir took the spot by her side.

Isobel slid into the seat beside him. She peered up at him and fluttered her lashes. Something uncomfortable curled through him. She was a beautiful girl, though something of a termagant. And she'd taken a liking to him. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but he knew if he wanted to make headway with Susana, a good relationship with her daughter couldn't hurt.

Hamish, faced with the choice of sitting beside Keir or Isobel, chose the latter.

As he settled in and the footman approached with the wine, something nudged his foot. He glanced across the table at Susana and she sent him an innocent look. Behind that look, though, there was a wicked intent. His pulse leaped.

The minx! Was she teasing him beneath the table?

Indeed, her toe, her luscious—from what he could gather,
bare
—toe, crawled up his ankle. A quiver rippled through him at the light in her eye, the way her lips quirked in a challenging way. He kicked off his shoe and reciprocated. He loved the way her features softened as he made his way up her calf, beneath her skirts.

It was damn annoying that the table was too wide for him to reach past her knee. He probably could, if he slouched, but he didn't dare.

As they made their way through the first course, he played with her, stroked her, and she did the same, causing a cauldron of lust to boil within him. Damn, she was a tantalizing piece of froth.

Conversation flowed around them, a desultory discussion of the weather and the crops and the recent influx of herring. Or something like that. Andrew was hardly paying attention.

All the while, Isobel, between bites, stared at him. He tried to ignore her as well, but it was far more difficult.

“I doona like soup,” she announced, apropos of nothing. Andrew could only ascertain that she'd been feeling left out of the conversation. She peeped at him. “Do you?”

With a glance at Susana, he removed his foot, which had been dancing over her delightful instep. As much as he was enjoying their play, it just didn't seem right to continue … while he was discussing the merits of soup with her daughter. That Susana put out a lip at his retreat was gratifying.

“I do like soup. I suppose.” He took a spoonful to illustrate his point.

Isobel wrinkled her nose. “It seems so pointless.”

“Pointless?”

She leaned closer and whispered, “It's mostly broth.”

“It's verra healthy,” Susana suggested.

“I'd much rather have cake.”

“I'd much rather have cake as well,” Hamish confided, although this was hardly a secret. He'd recently made friends with the castle baker, a lovely and plump morsel named Saundra who, apparently, reveled in the opportunity to provide him with … sweets.

“Well, perhaps we can have dessert … after dinner.” Susana's foot found his again, nudging him with an unmistakable intent. Andrew nearly came out of his chair.

“I should verra much like dessert … after dinner,” he murmured, catching her gaze. Though he thought he was being subtle, he most likely was not because Hamish snorted, and Keir glared at him.

Magnus simply took another sip of his whisky. “Of course there will be dessert after dinner,” he grumbled, motioning for a refill. “But since we have you all together, we should perhaps talk about your thoughts on our defenses?” He shot a meaningful look at Andrew.

“Aye. Of course…” As the subsequent courses came and went, and everyone enjoyed a delicious repast—all but Isobel, who complained that each dish was not cake—Hamish and Andrew shared their observations on where the fortifications were lacking.

As the litany continued—as they had found many weaknesses—Keir's demeanor soured. Clearly the man felt Andrew's critique was a criticism of his work. Andrew made every effort to compliment him where accolades were due, but it didn't seem to help.

Probably because there wasn't much room for praise.

Keir seemed to be an intelligent man, and seemed to have experience in this, so his errors and omissions were confounding.

In fact, if he didn't know for a fact that Keir was loyal to Susana—possibly enamored of her—Andrew would suspect he was deliberately trying to undermine their security.

For her part, Susana listened to his arguments with an intent and increasingly concerned expression. When Andrew mentioned there were no men stationed in the tower, and no warning system in place in the event of attacks in the far-flung crofts, her considering gaze flicked to her captain of the guard. When he caught her studying him, he flushed and tightened his jaw.

As Andrew and Hamish finished their report, Magnus sat back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the table. “I canna tell you how much we appreciate your assessment,” he said. “Although I do find it eye opening to realize how vulnerable we are.”

“Aye.” Andrew nodded. They were, indeed vulnerable. “But Hamish and I have a slate of ideas, easily implemented, that will fix matters.”

Susana leaned forward. “Please tell us more.”

God, he loved that expression on her face, the gleam in her eye, the rapt focus of her attention—on him. It wasn't sexual in any way. In fact, her playful mood had been replaced by her concern for her people.