Elaine clung to Jerome as if he were her anchor in a storm.

And in truth, a storm was breaking within her at the feel of his lips against hers, his hands warm and heavy around her waist.

When he’d pulled her onto his lap earlier that afternoon, she’d been so stunned that she had hardly noticed more than his large, hard frame, like a living stone wall.

Now her senses flooded with every detail. The scents of wood smoke and sweet spring air clung to him. He was tall enough that he’d had to stoop his head low to join their lips. And he was warm—so warm that the air seemed to heat between them despite the cool night.

Beneath her hands, he felt solid yet rangy, the lean strength of him coiled tight.

And his lips… Though he’d kept them in a neutral, firm line throughout the events of the day, they were wondrously soft now.

His fingers sank into her waist, yet he kept his mouth gentle on hers, exploring slowly. With each press of his lips, each subtle angling of his head to find yet another corner of her mouth to attend to, she felt herself begin to melt against him.

When she sighed, his tongue flicked out and touched hers. A jolt of heat and awareness shot through her at the feel of the velvety contact. He did it again, this time lingering, caressing her until her slippered toes curled against the grass.

One of his hands rose from her waist to delve into her hair. Prickles of pleasure shot through her as his fingers tightened slightly. He tipped back her head, giving himself greater access to her mouth.

So awash was she in sensation that she gladly let him take control of the kiss. She surrendered to his lips, his tongue, the firm hand in her hair even as her body rioted inside. Her heartbeat hammered wildly in her ears, her breath coming short. Liquid longing began pooling in the pit of her stomach, hot and achy. Aye, she was indeed sensitive—sensitive to Jerome’s every touch.

“Lainey!”

Her sister’s distant call roughly yanked Elaine from her rapidly spiraling desire. Jerome jerked back, his hands falling away and his body turning rigidly distant. Yet his dark eyes scorched her, his breath ragged.

“Lainey,” Rosamond called again, nearer now. Her rounded form was silhouetted by the bonfire as she approached. “I wondered if you might help me fetch more honey for the oatcakes. Maggie has her hands full with keeping them from burning, and…”

Elaine’s face blazed hot as she felt Rosamond’s gaze land on them in the shadows. Though a good two feet now separated them, it must have been obvious what they’d been about.

Desperate to escape further embarrassment, Elaine bolted forward, taking Rosamond’s arm. “Aye, of course.”

Elaine knew she was imagining it, but she swore she could feel Jerome’s gaze following her as she walked with Rosamond back to the keep. Rosamond remained silent, but when they slipped inside, instead of heading for the kitchens, she pulled Elaine into the west tower stairwell.

“What was that?”

“It was nau—”

“Don’t lie, Lainey.” Rosamond’s voice took on the stern edge of an older sister, yet a smile danced in her violet eyes. “I know an interlude when I see one. I told you he’s taken with you!”

Earlier that afternoon, Elaine had told Rosamond about slipping away from her guards, encountering Jerome, and the misunderstanding that had landed her in his arms. Rosamond had insisted that Jerome was undoubtedly enamored of Elaine.

Elaine had firmly told Rosamond that her romantic side was carrying her away—or that being so round with child had somehow muddled her sight, and her wits as well. But some girlish longing within her chest had fluttered at the thought of Jerome’s attention.

“H-he is returning to Scone soon,” she forced herself to say. “I’ll likely never see him again.”

She cursed the hitch in her voice as she spoke, sure it would only prove how addlebrained and naïve she was to Rosamond. But to her surprise, her sister lifted her shoulders in a shrug.

“Then there is no harm in one stolen kiss,” she said. Her eyes softened. “I know you long for excitement beyond our quiet life here at Trellham. Mayhap you can consider this an adventure.”

An adventure that was over before it had begun. Elaine bit her lip to force down the emotion that rose in her throat at the thought. She felt all the more ridiculous because Rosamond, ever the warm-hearted sister, was trying to be kind. Yet Rosamond’s nurturing sweetness made her feel like the family’s coddled babe all over again.

“You know it’s not just stolen kisses with a handsome warrior I long for,” she murmured. “I want to be like Niall, and Father, and you and Finn. I want to have a purpose. I want to serve a cause that matters.”

Rosamond’s features grew somber. “Aye, I know,” she replied quietly. “You have a big heart, Lainey, and spirit to match. We only worry that you will come to harm because of it. The world can be a cruel, dangerous place.”

Elaine swallowed, dropping her gaze. She knew her family loved her, but the only thing that had ever hurt her was the knowledge that they thought her so frail.

Rosamond’s mouth lifted in a sad smile. “Tonight might not have been the grand adventure you dream of. But you cannot deny that kissing a…what did you call him? A handsome warrior? You can’t deny that it is nice.”

Despite herself, Elaine puffed out a breath that was half-snort, half-giggle. “I beg you not to start in with your tales of stolen kisses with Finn, dear sister.”

Pretending not to hear her, Rosamond took Elaine’s arm once more and began strolling—waddling, more like—toward the kitchens. “Oh, aye, a particular tryst comes to mind, now that I think on the topic of handsome warriors. It was the night you and Judith and Julia had decided to wash your faces with the May Day dew to ensure everlasting beauty. Finn and I were supposed to be watching over you, but of course we were not, for we were ki—”

“Rosamond!”

Despite a sad heart, a spinning head, and lips that ached for another of Jerome’s kisses, Elaine let herself laugh with her sister as they set off in search of honey.