“I think ye may be liking it as well, Jemma Ramsden.”
He folded her gently into his arms, moving slowly enough for her to evade him if she chose. Jemma was too intrigued to do anything but comply. This was a side of him that threatened to undermine her resistance. His hand threaded through her hair, lifting the stands and drawing a handful up to his cheek. He rubbed against it for a moment.
“Silk. Rare and coveted and worth every bit of effort it takes to get yer hands on it.”
She suddenly stiffened, recalling the musicians. Jemma turned to look across the room to where they had been. Gordon turned her face back to him with a hand on the back of her head.
“They’re gone and not a moment too soon. I need to kiss ye.”
It was the only thought in her head. Her lips parted and her chin lifted, even without the hand on the back of her head guiding her. The first touch of his mouth against hers sent a shiver down her back. Just a brief touch, a mere whisper of a kiss that teased her more than it satisfied.
“I needed to kiss ye the moment ye entered this room with yer hair down.”
His mouth returned to hers, this time lingering longer. He pressed a light kiss onto her lips, slipping his along hers and filling her with delight. A soft murmur escaped her mouth, and he pressed her lips farther apart to deepen the kiss. Now his mouth demanded, gentle at first and then increasing pressure. The hand cradling her head was tilting it so that their lips fit together even more. The tip of his tongue slipped along her lower lip before it thrust smoothly into her mouth, teasing her tongue in a long thrust. She shivered again, her entire body quivering in his arms.
“Aye, lass, now that is courting at its best.”
She was suddenly free, Gordon stepping away from her. Frustration burned through her, but she clamped down the urge to demand that he return when she looked into his eyes.
Desire burned there. It was no mere flicker but a roaring blaze that she witnessed testing his control.
“I’ll bid ye good night, lass.”
“Yes, good night.”
The church bell tolled at dawn, bringing an end to her dreams of Gordon. For everyone it was another day to struggle to finish all the tasks that needed doing before winter arrived. Jemma followed them to church and then into the hall for her morning meal.
But her temper turned her cheeks pink when she watched the same maid push the others aside so that she might serve Gordon.
How could she dream of the man?
How could she not?
Jemma rubbed her head before going to find Ula and something to take her mind away from the man occupying too much of her time.
“He is mine.”
Jemma jerked her head up to find the girl she’d watched serving Gordon standing around the corner of where the hallways crossed. Jemma had to look around the stack of newly ironed sheets to see her. What she saw was a close-up view of the scowl that the girl had sent toward her fellow maids that morning.
“So keep yer English hands off him or I’ll make ye sorry ye ever set eyes on him.” There was venom edging each word and the girl inching closer with each one.
“What are you talking about?”
She laughed. “I’m Anyon and ye’d better dispense with yer innocent airs. The laird might believe such, but I know the truth.”
“Which is what?” Jemma felt her temper rising. She was not going to suffer Anyon’s wrath meekly.
Anyon propped her hand on her hip and sneered. “That ye are nothing but a doxy at heart. Ye dangle yer chastity in front of men, hoping to get them to bid against one another for the right to plow ye. But beneath it all, ye’re selling yer flesh just like the rest of us.”
“What do you suggest? That I refrain from polite behavior while you press your breasts into the man’s face during his meal?”
Anyon snickered and actually rocked her bosom back and forth. “The laird likes me tits good and well. You wouldn’t know the first thing about pleasing a man like him, nor would ye ever learn. He’d plow ye to keep yer dowry, and then come to my bed where he might gain true satisfaction.”
“Well, I have no intention of wedding the man, so you may take comfort in that truth.” What did a man like Gordon need to be satisfied? Her gaze swept the Scottish girl from head to toe, trying to judge what it was that she knew about pleasing men. Anyon smiled with glee.
“Ye know that I am right. I can read yer horse face very well. Don’t be swayed by that display he put on for you last night. He is nae a gentleman, but a wild Scot who likes his women knowing how to please.”
“Fine then. Be content.” Jemma took a step away from the nasty creature. If that was what pleased Gordon, well, Anyon was welcome to him. She stiffened and refused to show the disappointment that surged through her. Instead she forced herself to look at the girl and see that she was not lying about knowing her way around Gordon’s body.
It was very likely that he’d gone to her last night after leaving her standing there with her eyes wide and her body softly throbbing.
Anyon stepped into the hallway directly in front of her with both hands propped on her hips. “Ye are so stupid, English chit. Ye think I will swallow yer lies about not wanting the laird, but ye stay here, and that tells me that ye are a lying bitch. Ye’re just trying to sway me with yer words, but ye remain here tonight just the same, tempting the laird as you try to snag him.”
“I’ve heard enough of your spite. If you want that man, I suggest you go and find him. If I had the means to leave this place, I would, but I will not stand here and listen to you spit your venom at me for something that I
