Never Seduce a Scot

But then why was Graeme left with an unsettling suspicion that he wasn’t privy to all the facts?



“Come, let’s eat,” Graeme said.



The serving women were already going to the tables and many of his clansmen were already seated, awaiting their portions.



He walked ahead of Rorie and Eveline, leaving them to follow him to the dais. He took the step up and then reached courteously back to aid Eveline.



Her eyes widened, but she slipped her hand into his before stepping up to the table.



Her touch was a shock to his system. Thunder and lightning all at once. Her fingers were smooth, soft, pleasurable against his much rougher ones. He shouldn’t even be holding her hand for as long as he was. Such roughness had no place against such delicateness.



When he positioned her on his right, Rorie frowned and started to protest.



“Sit on her other side,” Graeme said. “Bowen can sit next to you tonight.”



“He won’t like it,” Rorie muttered. “It would be better if you were to put Eveline on my other side so she is away from Teague and Bowen. They do not like her.”



Graeme sighed. “Think you I’ll let them abuse her while I’m sitting here?”



“Nay, but she’ll know. She can see the way they look at her.”



“I appreciate that you seek to protect her, Rorie, but do not assume that I cannot also give her protection from those who wish her ill. ’Tis my duty as her husband and one I do not take lightly. Now sit. The both of you.”



Eveline eased onto the bench and Rorie climbed over to sit on her other side. Graeme took his position at the head of the table. More members of the clan filtered in and then his brothers appeared.



Teague’s expression became annoyed when he saw Eveline occupying Bowen’s place. Bowen didn’t see it until he was nearly there and to his credit, he managed to control whatever reaction he had.



“You’ll sit next to Rorie this eve, Bowen.”



Bowen was silent as he went to take his place on the other side of Rorie. Teague settled across from Eveline and sent a frown in her direction.



To Graeme’s surprise, she met Teague’s frown with a ferocious one of her own. And she didn’t back down. Teague, seeing it as a challenge, stared right back and the two were locked in a silent battle of wills.



With each passing second, Eveline’s scowl deepened and her mouth was set into a mutinous line.



Surprisingly, Teague was the first one to flinch. He glanced away and then quickly back at Graeme as if expecting a reprimand. The reprimand was in the look Graeme sent his brother. Teague’s cheeks colored slightly, but he didn’t glance Eveline’s way again.



“Now, if we may all eat,” Graeme said calmly.



The table was uncharacteristically silent as they dipped into the lamb stew. Usually an accounting of the day’s events would be brought forth and the brothers would discuss training strategies or what the next day’s plans would bring.



Instead, Bowen turned to their most senior men-at-arms, men who dined at Graeme’s table each day, and conversed about the day’s training sessions. After a time, they turned the conversation to the amusing tale of the boys whom Bowen had instructed on the use of bows and arrows and how many Montgomery soldiers were still digging arrows from their arses after the practice session.



Determined not to let the meal grow overly awkward, Graeme turned to Eveline.



“What think you of the keep?”



She ignored him, concentrating on her stew. She chewed a piece of bread she’d torn from the round and then reached for her goblet of ale. It was then she glanced at him and blinked.



Her face grew flush and pink tinged her cheeks. She cocked her head to the side and viewed him in obvious question.



“I asked you what you thought of the keep.”



Eveline nodded and then held up her arms and outstretched them so she nearly smacked Rorie’s nose.



“ ’Tis no larger than your own family’s holding,” he said.



She shook her head in disagreement and then pursed her lips together. After glancing around the room, she then pointed, making a wide sweeping motion and then punched her finger into the table. Then once more she spaced her hands apart to indicate size.



Graeme nodded. “Aye, our hall is larger than yours, but then we house more people, I believe.”



Eveline nodded her agreement.



He was about to pose another question when Eveline went tense. Her entire body language was wary and she paused, setting her spoon back into her stew.



’Twas nothing but the serving woman, Kierstan. She carried a tankard of ale and went to Teague first to refill his goblet. Next she came to Graeme, but she went on his other side so that she was between him and Eveline.



“Would you like more, Eveline?” Graeme asked, fully intending to have Kierstan serve her before himself.



But then Kierstan turned and stumbled, emptying the tankard in Eveline’s lap. The ale splattered over her chest and arms, soaking her dress. It dripped off her chin and ruined the bowl of stew Eveline had been eating.



Graeme was so stunned that at first he simply stared, aghast at the woman’s error. Eveline’s eyes flashed with hurt, but then she seemed to steel herself and quietly rose.



“I’m so sorry,” Kierstan babbled out. “ ’Twas an accident, Laird.”



“ ’Tis your lady you should be apologizing to,” Graeme bit out.



But Kierstan didn’t turn to Eveline. She hastily began pushing the liquid that pooled on the table away from Graeme, but sent it in Eveline’s direction.



Eveline was still standing, humiliation tight on her face, her eyes dull.



“Go fetch something to help clean her up,” Graeme snapped at Kierstan. “ ’Tis not me you should be tending.”



Then he rose to reach for Eveline’s hand. But she brushed by him, ale still dripping from her clothing. She never even looked his way as she walked quietly from the hall.



Rorie was on her feet, spitting like an angry kitten. “Bitch!”



“Rorie!” Bowen said, shock evident in his voice. “ ’Tis no way for you to speak, even to a serving woman.”



“She did it apurpose,” Rorie snapped. “She’s tormented Eveline all day and she well knows it. She’s wasted no opportunity to call Eveline a bitch. I’m merely returning the favor.”



“Is this true?” Graeme demanded, turning to Kierstan.



“Nay! ’Twas an accident. I swear it.”



“And the other accusations? Did you call your lady a bitch? Did you malign her in any way?”



Kierstan’s expression turned sullen and defiance sparked in her eyes. “ ’Tis not my lady I maligned. She isn’t my lady.”



“Leave my presence,” Graeme thundered. “And keep from my sight. You’ll not serve in the great hall again.”



Kierstan paled. She started to speak again, but Graeme silenced her with a single look.



“Begone,” he ordered.



She turned and fled.



Rorie was still furious, her face red and her fists clenched tight at her sides. “Her punishment is too light, Graeme.”



“ ’Tis over, Rorie. You’ll not pursue it further. The clan must be given time to adjust to Eveline’s presence.”



“And so you’ll allow such disrespect until such time as they’ve adjusted?” she asked incredulously.



His eyes narrowed. “Do you question me? Kierstan won’t go unpunished. But neither will I tear down the walls of the keep and raise the ire of the clan when emotions are running high already. You take my desire to mediate as a sign that I’m allowing Eveline to be abused. You should know me better than that.”



He turned and strode from the table. Rorie called after him, “Where do you go?”



Only at the doorway did he pause and turn back. “I’m going to see to my wife.”



Rorie looked strangely pleased as she retook her seat.



CHAPTER 17



Graeme realized he was completely uncertain of himself halfway up the stairs. He even paused some distance from his chamber, because he wasn’t sure what to do with Eveline when he found her.



If Rorie was right and Kierstan had spilled ale on Eveline apurpose, then Kierstan would have to be banned from the keep and sent into the grain fields to work.



He was caught in a difficult position because he didn’t want it to appear to his clan that he sided with an Armstrong against them, but neither did he want to abandon his wife—no matter who she was—to the ill treatment of others.



When he finally reached the chamber door, he pushed it open and went inside, only to be greeted by the sight of Eveline standing in the nude, her back to him.



For a moment he was transfixed. Her hair was unbraided and lay in waves down her bare back, just reaching the top of her rounded bottom. There it hung enticingly, brushing the tops of her cheeks.



She was a well-formed lass. Luscious, curvy bottom, slim waist, hips that flared appealingly.



Then he felt immediate guilt for standing here lusting over her—a woman who likely had no idea of such matters or understanding of them.



He turned away, determined to give her privacy to complete her dress. No matter how tempted he was not only to look, but to wait for her to turn so he could gain a full view.



He heard water from the washbasin being sloshed about and nearly groaned at the idea that she was completing her wash right there a few feet away. All he had to do was turn. It was a sight he’d receive much pleasure from. Watching his wife as she bathed. He could well imagine the path of the washing cloth as it glided over her body.



He should be lying on the bed, enjoying the delectable sight, not standing here rigidly, his back to her because he feared scaring her. His attraction was inappropriate, but his body didn’t seem to care what his mind objected to. His body found her pleasing and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about that.



Then he heard a gasp and he realized she must have finally seen him standing there. Slowly he turned, keeping his gaze averted. When he chanced looking up, he saw her clutching the linen from the bed to her naked body and staring at him with wide eyes.



But he read no fear in those eyes and that relieved him immensely. The last thing he needed was a hysterical female in his chamber.



“I wanted to see how you fared,” Graeme said.



Eveline nodded, still clutching the linen close to her breast.



“Perhaps I should return when you’re fully dressed.”



She hesitated a moment before offering a slow nod. He wondered at that hesitation and what she’d been thinking as she stared back at him, those eyes so serious and contemplating.



“Right, then,” Graeme muttered. He turned around and hurried from the chamber, closing the door behind him.



He felt ten kinds of a fool standing outside his bedchamber while his wife made herself decent within. She was his. She belonged to him. There was no part of her that he should be denied. But no amount of telling himself that or rationalizing the desire that simmered and boiled in his veins could convince his mind that he wasn’t the filthiest loch slime for thinking of her in that way.



He was still standing there in the hall, hoping no one came above stairs to see him, when his chamber door opened and Eveline poked her head out. She smiled broadly when she saw him and she motioned him back inside.



She was fully clothed now, a fresh, clean dress with a pretty embroidered neckline.



He inched inside the chamber and found her perched on the edge of the bed—his bed—and she smiled when he found her gaze again.



“I’m sorry for what happened below,” he said in a low voice. “Kierstan will serve in the hall no more.”



Eveline’s expression grew somber, and sadness clouded her brilliant eyes.



Graeme sat on the bench in front of the fire, not trusting himself to sit on the bed beside her.



“Do you feel it was intentional, Eveline? Has Kierstan made you unwelcome thus far?”



Her expression became unreadable. She appeared to give the matter some thought, and then her eyes narrowed. She shrugged, but Graeme didn’t believe for a moment she didn’t have an opinion on the matter, but he respected the fact that she wasn’t slinging accusations, even if they were well merited.



He’d worried over Eveline’s ability to understand the situation, how she’d fit in, what kind of problems her presence would cause. But so far, her actions had been beyond reproach and it shamed him that his own clan was behaving so childishly, even if he could understand the motivation behind it.



“I want you to feel welcome here, Eveline. ’Tis important for you to be happy.”



She smiled again, her eyes shining in the glow of the candlelight of the chamber. Then she cocked her head and pointed at the bed and then to him.



His brow wrinkled a moment, and then he realized she was asking him if he intended to go to bed.



In truth, he never retired this early, but now that he was here, it would be awkward to tell her nay and return below stairs.



So he nodded.



She smiled, seemingly delighted that he wasn’t leaving the chamber again. Then she rose and went to the stack of wood for the fire. He glanced over his shoulder to see her shyly skitter past him to add more wood to the fire. He turned quickly, catching her wrist.

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