Their circumspection went for naught because when they arrived back at the castle, the courtyard was empty.
Life was odd. When she’d had no intention of giving in to Fergus, Marina hadn’t been self-conscious about his company. Now she’d promised to become his lover, she sensed spying eyes everywhere. She wrapped her arms around herself, and Fergus frowned as he caught up with her.
“I kept ye out too long. You’re cold.” He lowered his voice. “What I’d give to be able to warm you up.”
“I’m so warm now, I doubt I’ll sleep. I’m feeling rather bold being alone with you.”
In the moonlight, his straight white teeth glinted white as he smiled. “Imagine how you’ll feel tomorrow.”
Imagine. Her heart performed a leaping skip that made her giddy. She raised a shaking hand to her chest, but nothing could calm her raging excitement. Her voice was unsteady as she spoke. “I don’t think you should walk me to my room.”
“Perhaps not wise.”
She turned away, knowing if she didn’t go now, she wouldn’t. “Goodnight, Mackinnon,” she said in a normal voice, in case anyone was listening.
“Goodnight, signorina,” he said behind her, and as she climbed the steps to the massive doors, she heard him whisper, “Dream of me, bonny lassie.”
Chapter Sixteen
The stone and wood structure huddled down into the landscape. With its sod roof, it looked like an extension of the hillside above it. Unless Fergus had pointed the small building out to her, Marina wouldn’t have known it was there.
“A shepherd’s hut?” she asked, as she drew her pony up beside his in the morning light. Today, no dogs trotted in their wake. Fergus had left Macushla and Brecon back at the castle.
She’d awoken, refreshed and brimming with anticipation, as the first lark started to sing. Having chosen to become a fallen woman, she’d had her best night’s sleep since arriving at Achnasheen. Her lack of qualms about her forthcoming ruin proved she was wicked to the bone.
During the last couple of hours, she and Fergus had spoken about casual matters as he took her deeper and deeper into the hills, away from the coast. Anyone could have eavesdropped on their conversation and come away without a whisper of scandal to share. He’d hardly touched her, too. By now, she was in a fever to be in his arms.
He dismounted with the animal grace that always made her artist’s soul soar. “You’ll see.”
“You’re such a tease,” she said, as he lifted her off her pony.
“I’m getting some of my own back.” When his hands settled at her waist, she placed her palms flat against his chest. This concord between them was so new, it felt daring to touch him. Today he wore traditional Highland dress, a loose white linen shirt and a kilt in the attractive red and black pattern.
“You look like such a wild and untamed Scot,” she said, studying him. “I’d like to paint you like this.”
His hands tightened, and that expressive mouth quirked. “Not right now.”
“No, not right now,” she echoed and leaned in to meet his kiss.
The world tilted, then tilted some more, as he picked her up and carried her over the rough grass to the strange little building. Her heart dipped and swooped like a swallow taking wing. Dizzy with excitement, she slid her arm around his neck, as he lifted the latch on the heavy oak door between two low-silled windows.
The dimness inside made Marina blink, but as her vision adjusted, she gave an exclamation of pleasure. “A shepherd with sophisticated tastes, certo.”
“My father was mad for stalking the deer.” Fergus strode across to the huge bed and set her carefully on the covers. “He had this built so he could stay up in the hills for days on end without sacrificing his comfort.”
Her breath caught as what was about to happen suddenly gained a solid physical reality it had lacked. Here she was in Fergus’s bed, where soon he’d take her body. Today, her life would change forever.
The prospect was thrilling—and daunting. Until now, she’d managed to keep her nerves in check, but at this moment, she felt fidgety and far too aware of her lack of experience. She raised one unsteady hand to her throat, where her pulse performed a wild Scotch reel.
“So we’re private here?” She took in her luxurious surroundings with the carved mantelpiece and leather sofas and elegant mahogany furniture, before her attention returned, as it must, to the man regarding her with brilliant gray eyes. She saw her excitement mirrored there in bright silver.
“Aye.” He hauled off his boots and came down to lie beside her, raising himself on one elbow so he could look into her face.
How she hoped he didn’t see her last-minute fit of collywobbles. She was disappointed in herself. Since she’d decided to become his mistress, she’d felt so brave and strong. She didn’t feel brave and strong at this moment.
“Private and safe.” His eyes glowed as he stared at her, and he brushed the hair back from her forehead. “This part of the estate is still given over to deer.”
Her lips twitched, even as she trembled under the caress. “And my dear.”