Which left him Kendra. He needed her more than he’d like to admit.
Thank heavens she was here. He gave her a wavery smile, and her lips curved in return. He wanted to kiss them. It seemed he always wanted to kiss them. “I just need to become accustomed to having family. It won’t happen again.”
“It will,” she insisted. “He’s your brother.”
“Exactly, and so he deserves my best. I’ll apologize for disbelieving him, and from now on I need to be more patient. He looks a man, but he’s yet a lad, and I must remember that.”
“No.” Her laugh rang over the hillside, and her smile would lift the most morose man’s mood. Losh, he was lucky to have her. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Trick. This is the way brothers are. Families are. We don’t give each other our best, I’m afraid, but more often our worst. We slide into comfort and forget ourselves. It’s the hugs after the battles that make it worthwhile.”
A concept so unfamiliar it bordered on incomprehensible. It had been so very long since he could reliably expect a hug from anyone, let alone someone he’d wronged.
Lost in thought, he was caught by surprise when Chaucer balked at the edge of a river. Kendra tugged on Pandora’s reins. “Look, the tracks disappear. Shall we cross?”
There was no bridge in sight. The water didn’t look too deep—waist high, he guessed, at most—but he eyed her long skirts and the sun overhead. “The day is getting away from us. Let’s take what we’ve found back to Hamish and Niall. They may have an idea where the thieves were headed.”
“I left my cloak in the dungeon.”
“We also didn’t lock up. We’ll follow the tracks back. I’m not certain how to return from here, anyway.”
FIFTY-THREE
KENDRA’S HEART felt light as they rode back. She’d heard a warmth in Trick’s voice that made her feel perhaps he was finally opening up. When she smiled over at him, he smiled back. The glimmer in his eyes made her feel tingly all over.
How many more hours until they could steal up to their chamber at Duncraven tonight? She’d never thought she’d look forward to anything in that gloomy place, but they had five long weeks to make up for.
Back at the ruins, she tethered Pandora and followed Trick into the dungeon, shivering a bit as she descended the narrow, cold staircase in the slanting light of the open trap door.
He turned to her at the bottom. “You’re not still frightened, are you?”
“Maybe. A little.” The candles had all guttered out. She hurried to get her cloak from the manacle on the wall.
He blocked her path and snaked his arms around her middle, leaning in for a kiss.
As his mouth slanted over hers, a dizzying cloud of his sandalwood scent surrounded her, overwhelming the dungeon’s mustiness. Her senses spun wildly, her fear evaporating in an instant. Before she knew what was happening, he’d lifted her by the waist.
“Oof! What are you doing?”
His only answer was a raised brow as he carried her across the dingy room, then set her in the open cage, letting her legs dangle out where the door hung loose. He gave the ugly black thing a push to start it swinging.
The metal felt cold beneath her skirts, and the swinging chain made an awful grating noise. Holding tight to the opening, she gave a shaky laugh.
He grinned. “See? It’s not scary down here at all. Not with the sunlight and the company. And it must not have been scary to my mother, either, considering it was her special place.”
Trying to be a good sport, Kendra reached her toes to push off again. The chain moaned a protest. “I can imagine her coming here to think,” she told him, swaying to and fro. “The way you go to the cottage at Amberley.”
He hesitated, then nodded his head. “Aye, just like that.”
Pleased that he’d admitted as much, she pressed for more. “You write there, don’t you?”
“Sometimes.” He gave the cage another shove, sending the chain to its screeching song.
“I wonder if your mother wrote here?”
“I never saw her write anything other than letters. And if I were her…” He pushed her again, flashing a grin that was more like a leer. “I’d not squander this place on writing.”
“What do you mean?” For some reason her voice came out squeaky.
“When we were together last night, you worried others might intrude on our privacy.” He cocked a brow. “It’s private enough here, is it not?”
“For that?” She was thankful the dimness covered her deep blush. “That’s ridiculous. There’s no bed.”
“What makes you think we need a bed?”
She forced a laugh. “You’re joking, of course. I cannot imagine—”
“Ah, lass, it’s not really so hard to imagine.”
Shocked as she was by his suggestion, she was even more astonished to realize it mirrored her earlier thoughts. A little thrill of excitement raced through her. But…
With his hands on the bars that flanked her head, he stilled the cage. She could feel the heat emanating from his body, chasing away the damp chill of the dungeon.
Her fingers clenched the rough iron while she mentally clung to her last shred of self-possession. “Wouldn’t we be disrespectful? Making love in a place where others have suffered?”
He brought a hand to her cheek, his thumb moving over her lower lip.“Many people suffer in many places,” he said softly. “Is that not good reason to take what joy we can find?”
He leaned in, and his kiss was the lightest, tenderest brush of lips.
“But if you don’t want to…” he murmured against her mouth.
“It’s not that. It’s just—” Her hands slid around his waist, gripped his muscular back, drew him closer. She was already giving in. “It’s
