“Smile,” he demanded.
“What?” She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.
“I said smile,” he growled.
She smiled weakly. Aye. Plain as day. A dimple on the left side. He sighed heavily.
His gaze drifted over her features, lingering on the witch-mark on her cheekbone, and he wondered how many others she had, in more intimate places. He’d like to search, connect the patches with his tongue, he thought, his gaze lingering on the creamy expanse of cleavage above the scooped bodice of her gown.
He shook his head impatiently. “Out with it. What’s so important, English, that you lied to gain my attention this morn?”
“Gwen,” she corrected absently. She was pinching her plump lower lip between her thumb and forefinger, and the gesture was making him damn uncomfortable.
Goddess of the moon, he translated silently, and she looked every inch a goddess.
“You already know my name, and since you claimed such familiarity with me, I won’t stand on ceremony and insist you call me ‘milord.’”
Her immediate scowl made his lips twitch, but he kept his face impassive. She did not respond to his comment. Her self-control chafed him; he’d far prefer her off-balance, reacting blindly. Then he’d feel more in control.
She eyed him warily. “I don’t know where to begin, so I ask that you hear me out completely before you start getting angry again. I know once you hear my whole story, you’ll understand.”
“You’re going to tell me something else to upset me? What else have you left? You’ve already accused me of taking your maidenhead, yet you claim you doona seek to trap me into marriage. What do you seek?”
“Do you promise to hear me out? No interruptions until the end?”
After a moment’s consideration, he conceded. Silvan had said she claimed he was in some kind of danger. What harm was there in listening? If he left the room without letting her have her say, he’d have to be on constant guard lest Silvan lock him in the garderobe so she might shout at him through the door. And until he’d cleared things up, he was quite certain he wasn’t going to see a single batch of kippers and tatties from Nell. There’d been none of his thick, black exotic coffee all day either. Nay, he had to set things to rights. He enjoyed his comforts and didn’t intend to suffer one more day without them. Besides, the sooner he cleared things up, the sooner he could pack her off and get her out of his sight.
Shrugging, he gave his pledge.
She nibbled her lip, hesitating a moment. “You’re in danger, Drustan—”
“Aye, I am well aware of that, though I suspect we’re not referring to the same thing,” he muttered darkly.
“This is serious. Your life is in danger.”
He grinned faintly, gaze skimming her from head to her toes. “Och, wee one, and next you’ll tell me you plan to save me, eh? Mayhap fight off my attackers yourself? Bite them in the knee?”
“Oooh. That wasn’t nice. And if you’re too stupid to listen to me, I’ll have to,” she snapped.
“Consider me warned, lass,” he placated her. “I’ve listened, now go on with you,” he said abruptly, dismissing her. “Tell Silvan I heard you out, so he’ll call off his little siege. I have things to do.”
At the earliest opportunity he would have Nell secure her a position in the village, far from the castle. Nay, mayhap he’d have Dageus cart her off to Edinburgh and find her work there. One way or another, he had to get the bewitching lass out of his demesne before he did something foolish and irrevocable.
Like toss her into bed and tup her until neither one of them could move. Until his muscles ached from loving her. Would she score his shoulders with her nails? he wondered. Arch her neck and make sweet mewling noises? He stiffened instantly at the thought.
He turned his back on her, hoping it might lessen whatever spell she’d cast upon him.
“Don’t you even want to know what kind of danger?” she asked incredulously.
He sighed and glanced over his shoulder, one sardonic brow arched. What would it take, he wondered irritably, to make the wee lass cower? A sword at her throat?
“You said you’d hear the whole story. Was that a lie? You who claim you don’t lie?”
“Fine,” he said impatiently, turning back around. “Tell me all of it and have it done with.”
“Maybe you should sit down,” she said uneasily.
“Nay. I will stand and you will speak.” He folded his arms across his chest.