Chapter 21 #2
‘We are indeed. I would prefer the bottom bunk. Do you mind? You on top,’ she added softly, certain he would understand the double meaning.
Ethan was speechless. Even the scar on his cheek seemed to pulse at the very thought of them sleeping together – though in separate beds. Not that she had any intention of doing that – and doubtless he would not protest too vehemently.
She explained that two residents had been willing to give up their bed for her.
‘I couldn’t allow that. It just wouldn’t be fair. And I am not a fragile flower likely to break or die if I don’t get to sleep in a comfortable bed!’
He grinned. ‘That is very true. You are, never have been and never will be a fragile flower. More like a prickly pear!’
‘Good! It troubles me not a jot that you think me a prickly pear,’ she said hotly, a trifle annoyed by his observation.
‘The proprieties have been observed. See?’ She indicated the grey army blanket hanging over a length of rope crossing the room from one side to the other at eye level.
‘Mrs Prendergast and her friends have even provided a modesty curtain. We can both get undressed and dressed behind it. As you can see, I’ve already made myself comfortable after the journey.
I feel very refreshed but wouldn’t mind a little lie-down before tonight’s festivities begin – whatever form they may take. ’
‘Hallelujah and pass the gravy,’ He said it with humour.
Lochranza looked askance.
‘We’re promised food and entertainment. Do you think it will include hymn singing? I mean, some of these people go way back to the early pilgrims that settled here. A bit like the intrepid pilgrim who built your house, I suppose.’
He gulped down his laughter. ‘My house? Whatever makes you think that?’
He paused in the process of taking off his coat, then his shirt.
‘Raleigh on the roof. That is Sir Walter Raleigh on your roof, isn’t it? You know, the man who founded Virginia.’
‘I know who he is, but I don’t think that’s him on my roof.’
‘Really! So who is it?’
Ethan shrugged the sleeves of his shirt down his shoulders. ‘A man wearing doublet and hose – not the most flattering of outfits, in my opinion.’
‘That depends on your turn of calf.’
‘My what?’
Lochranza laughed. ‘I think it means that doublet and hose – especially hose – looked better on men with pronounced calf muscles.’
‘It’s still not a style I favour. I vaguely recall the figure being a representation of an ancestor.’ He grinned. ‘Do you really think he has good calf muscles?’
‘I can’t see from down below. He is perched at a great height. Do you recall his name?’
He shook his head. ‘All I do recall were tales of a man who was little more than a pirate but considered himself a true and proper English gentleman. I think he married money. An heiress. I do believe her painting is still hanging on a wall in one of my Scottish castles.’
‘Will you ever return to Scotland?’
He smiled. ‘I might, though only to sort out papers and things. Will you?’
She frowned. ‘Return to Scotland? I don’t recall ever going there. Why would—’
‘Your name. Lochranza. Remember I told you about that Scottish village nestling beside the sea? You must have something to do with it, or perhaps your parents visited there…’
She shook her head. Reverting to years she could not remember unsettled her.
Ethan sensed her disquiet. His fingers stroked her hair back from her face. ‘It’s a beautiful name. Lady Lochranza Kildare. And it suits you. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.’
His voice was low, soft, enticing. The fading light of sunset was behind him.
The sight of him dragged her back from trying to recall something unremembered.
This was now, not the past, and she had a quest to undertake.
The sight of him quickened her breath. Her breasts heaved and her body tingled.
He would not want Venus once he had her.
His shirt was undone and hanging from his waist. Lochranza was staring at him. He braced his fists on his hips.
Ethan noticed all these things. ‘Is something bothering you?’
‘You’re doing it purposely.’
‘Doing what?’
‘You’re standing there half-naked and asking if something is bothering me. I have to say, yes. Yes it is.’
Although he’d not yet washed, his sweat still smelled sweet, horse leather and sheer masculinity.
The urge to touch him was strong. It was hard not to, but she desisted, curling her fingers into her hands in case they were tempted to make a move without her agreement that the timing was right.
She had no wish to rush things, though on the other hand they didn’t have that much time.
Ethan looked over his shoulder, then looked down into her face and grinned. ‘At least we don’t have to worry about Lieutenant Wellow putting in an appearance.’
Only slight crinkling at the sides of his eyes gave any indication that he was inclined to more physical pursuits than dancing.
‘It would have been wonderful out under the stars – just the two of us,’ she said to him.
‘It will be wonderful no matter where we are.’
She threw him a coquettish look that only hinted at innocence on offer. ‘We’re not married.’
His hands rested on her shoulders, his look was intense and his lips adorable. ‘Yet.’
She stroked the smooth skin of his chest, her touch light as though the heat of his flesh would burn her fingers. He was almost hairless, his skin browner than she’d expected it to be.
Her voice was no more than a hushed whisper. ‘People will talk.’
He cupped her face in his hands, tipping her head back so that her eyes met the hot desire in his.
A prim retiring maid would not be doing this, she thought as she wound her arms around his bare torso, her fingers tracing his spine from high between his shoulder blades to where it entered the waistband of his britches.
From there, her fingertips travelled hungrily upwards, tracing his muscles all the way to his shoulders.
Ethan smiled. ‘I was right about you. You’re not like other women. You don’t lead a man on and then cry wolf.’
‘I am the wolf,’ she said breathlessly, her tongue flicking in and out of his ear.