Claiming Her

She blinked. “You did not deliver my message?”

“Well, I delivered it to the master.”

“Well, yes,” she agreed weakly. “Of course you did.”

“I pledged an oath to him, you see, milady.” His little face was tipped up earnestly. “He told me I must be as loyal as the garrison was to you. That is exactly what you always told me too, milady, about loyalty, so it seemed right.”

She stretched out a hand and squeezed his shoulder. “And so it is. One must honor one’s vows, or what is the point of making them?”

Relief lightened his features, and as he darted off with a jaunty salute, she straightened and turned to the hall.

So, Dickon had been the one who’d delivered her message to Aodh. She’d assumed it had been Walter.

She saw the steward now, across the hall, sitting at a low table and tapping his foot to the music. She made her way over and stood behind him for a moment. People were slowly making their way to their seats, now that Aodh had arrived. She could see Aodh, looking around for her.

“Good evening, Walter,” she said.

The steward started up

out of his seat, then put his hand over his heart and shook his head in exasperation. “My lady.”

“Please, sit.”

He did.

“A fine night, is it not?”

Walter harrumphed and began drumming his fingers. “If you are partial to barbaric music.”

“Some are.”

His fingers stopped drumming.

“Walter, did you deliver my message to the queen?”

“Did I not say I would, lady?”

“And did you bring me my sword wrapped in bath towels?”

Silence, then he huffed, “The boy said you wanted it.”

The entire conversation took place with their gazes pointed at the hall. “I thank you,” Katarina said quietly. “It was bravely done.”

“My lady, I am well aware of all you have lost and given up, and how little you have received in return over the years. The urchin said you wanted it, and loath as I am to see a woman handling weaponry, it seemed a small enough thing to give you, after all that has been taken away.”

She drew in a large breath. “I thank you, Walter. I believe I may also have underestimated you.”

He tossed a startled glance at the hand on his bony shoulder, then at her face. If he had a reply, she did not hear it, for Aodh came up then, put a hand on her hip, and nodded toward the dais. Walter’s gaze fell to the touch of his painted hand on her body.

“They await us, lady,” Aodh said, leveling an unreadable look at Walter. She let him guide her away.

They partook of the feast, but only for as long as was absolutely necessary. The entire time, she felt Aodh’s leg near hers, occasionally, and intentionally, brushing up against it. Every bit of food he laid before her became a transmission of sensual intent, every passing of the shared goblet between them an excuse to touch.

Aodh lifted her to her feet before the sweet cakes were brought out.

They went to the bedroom and reveled in each other all night, talking and touching, whispering mostly of nothings, although Katarina felt compelled to offer a few somethings.

“MacDaniels is a cheat in all things,” she informed him quietly after he took off her gown and knelt at her feet.