Highland Vampire. Hannah Howell

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      A telling point, but she just shrugged. “Twas still daylight. It should have been safe. I will be more wary now. And may I now ask what ye are doing here? Aside from rutting yourself blind, that is.”

      Jankyn ignored that last remark. “I seek a wife for David. He is more Outsider than MacNachton, and I thought I could arrange a profitable marriage for him.”

      “Ah, of course. Twould certainly serve the clan weel if ye succeed.”

      “Aye, if only because it would allow us to point to one of our own who isnae so, weel—”

      “Odd?”

      “As good a word as any.” He looked her over, then quirked one brow. “Do ye plan to keep your secrets from a husband?”

      Efrica wished she had an easy answer for that question, one she continuously asked herself. “I believe my secrets are easier to keep.”

      “True. Save for that noise ye make when your blood runs hot,” he murmured, feeling his tamped-down desire stir at the memory of that low, throaty purr she had made as they had embraced. “Wives shouldnae purr, I am thinking.”

      “And I am thinking I had best leave ere I give in to the urge to strangle ye,” she snapped, embarrassed that he had obviously known exactly how much his kisses had stirred her.

      “Alas, so easily does the purring kitten become the hissing cat.”

      Opening her mouth to retort, Efrica quickly shut it again, swallowing the insults crowding her tongue concerning blood-drinking men who swooned like frail maidens when touched by the sun. “Nay, ye willnae goad me into trading insults.” She stared toward the door. “I have grown beyond such things,” she announced loftily. “Maturity, ye ken. Ye should try it.”

      A solid blow, he mused and grinned. That grin widened when she slammed the door behind her as she left. Maturity obviously did not stop her from indulging in that show of pique.

      He sighed and stared up at the ceiling. It was then that he realized that the candle had flickered out quite a while ago and the room was almost completely dark. Efrica had not even realized it. He idly wondered if he should tell her that most people could not see so well in the dark, that a husband would surely notice such a skill and find it odd.

      The thought of Efrica with another man banished his amusement. What a woman did before or after him had never troubled him before. He had, of course, never thought of Efrica with a man. In his mind she had always been that innocently sensuous young lass, sister to his laird’s wife, and forbidden fruit. It had never entered his mind that she would not be forbidden fruit to every man, nor that she would not wish to be. Worse, now that he had had a taste of that forbidden fruit, he craved more. He wanted to hear her purr again, and he wanted to be the only man who heard her make that intoxicating sound. Jankyn had the sinking feeling that stealing a taste of that forbidden fruit was the biggest mistake he had ever made.

      Three

      “Ye kissed him?!”

      Efrica scowled at her cousin, a little surprised that Barbara’s words were not echoing throughout the great hall and turning all eyes their way. “Mayhap we should just hire a herald to ride o’er the land announcing it. Twould save your voice.”

      Barbara ignored her muttered words, but lowered her voice. “What was it like?”

      “Barbara!”

      “Wheesht, dinnae go all pious on me. The mon is a near legend amongst the women here.”

      “Aye, I ken it. Tis one verra good reason why I should ne’er have allowed it.”

      “The other being that ye liked it too weel.”

      There was little reason to deny that. Not only had thinking about that kiss kept her awake late into the night, but she had woken up several times all asweat and aching for the man. Her maidenly dreams about Jankyn were no longer maidenly.

      “Weel, he wouldnae be the best catch ye might make, but—”

      “I dinnae want to catch him.” The look her cousin gave her told Efrica that the older woman did not believe that any more that she herself did. “Come, Barbara, ye ken what he is, what the MacNachtons are.”

      “It suits your sister verra weel.”

      Efrica sighed and slumped against the cool stone wall, staring at the brightly clothed courtiers filling the great hall. “She loves her laird. I refuse to love Jankyn. I love the sun, flowers, and songbirds. To live with a mon who can ne’er leave the shadows, who dwells mostly in the dark bowels of Cambrun castle? Twould smother me, I think. And he will long outlive me, will probably still look a young mon as I wrinkle and gray.” She caught sight of Jankyn entering the great hall only to be immediately approached by a fulsome redhead. “And he is a lecherous bastard,” she hissed, feeling a strong urge to break the hand the woman was caressing his arm with.

      “My dear child, he is an unwed mon. Unwed and unpromised. He is also beautiful, a sleek, dark mon who can stir any woman’s blood by simply walking into a room. From what I have heard, the women here set after him the moment he arrived. Show me a bachelor who claims he refuses such freely offered sweets, and I will show ye a great liar.”

      That was a truth Efrica preferred not to think about. Men started to seek such experiences the moment their voices deepened. It was one of those hypocrisies that often so irritated her. Men grabbed as much bedsport as they could, but considered any woman who did the same a whore. They strove to cast aside their virginity as quickly as they could, but demanded their chosen wives still have theirs.

      “Tell me, who does Jankyn claim David is?” she asked Barbara.

      “His son. He says he was wed, briefly, at but thirteen.”

      “Ah, clever. Gives David legitimacy and keeps everyone believing Jankyn is but thirty and a bit. Just how old is he?”

      “I have no idea, except that he is at least ten years older than his laird.”

      “Oh.” Barbara grimaced. “I think that would trouble me as weel. Aging is hard enough, but to do so whilst your husband remains strong and untouched by time would be verra difficult. Of course, there could be some verra delightful advantages to that.”

      “Wretch. Who is that woman with him? She looks like the one who directed me to the gardens.”

      “Ah. Tis Lady Eleanor MacBean. She isnae to be trusted. Sly, vicious, and has no morals at all. Last year, she tried to seduce my husband. Worse, she battered me with sly words, whispered lies, and spread gossip until I began to believe it.”

      “Nay, Barbara, your husband would ne’er—”

      Barbara silenced her with one sharp gesture. “I ken it. E’en as jealousy began to gnaw at my innards, a sane part of me kenned it was all lies. Fortunately, my mon was rather flattered by my jealousy and was quick to bring me back to my senses. I tell ye this to give ye a warning. Tread warily round that one.” She frowned as she watched Jankyn shake free of the woman and move toward them. “Ye might warn that bonnie lad, too. Both of ye have far too many secrets to protect. Ye dinnae need the trouble СКАЧАТЬ