“Teaching me the proper way to flavor meat?”
He winked. “I can think of a few good ways to flavor meat—”
“Did he just wink?” Kenneth interrupted, aghast. “And he scowled. Earlier, he even smiled!”
Fenella pretended surprise. “Aye? Have ye never seen a man smile afore?”
“No’ this man.” Kenneth leaned closer. “Are ye ill? Did Gordon hit ye? Are ye having a spell?”
Done with the teasing, Brodie planted a hand against his friend’s chest. “Go away, Kenneth, so I can show this woman how—”
“—to properly flavor meat?” Fen finished for him.
“—much I love her,” he shot back smoothly.
Smiling, Kenneth stepped away. “Aye, and I’ll handle alerting the King as to his messenger’s deceit. MacBain and I will take care of it and await His Majesty’s instructions.”
Brodie exchanged nods with his friend, grateful for the offer of help, but knowing he wasn’t even going to think about Gordon for the rest of the night.
As Kenneth strode from the room, Brodie shifted to take Fenella’s hands in his own. “I’m beginning to get a little paranoid, lass.”
Her grin was impish, although he could tell her cheek still pained her. “Why?”
“Ye still havenae agreed to marry me.”
“I hadnae planned on it, no’ until a verra specific set of circumstances are met.”
His heart began to hammer at his chest. “Wh–what circumstances?”
“One, ye must be wearing far fewer clothes. And two…”—her smile grew—“yer tongue needs to be in me. Or on me. I’m no’ picky.”
My tongue in her?
“Aye, lass,” he growled, throwing his arm around her shoulders and turning them both toward the corridor to her room. “I can manage that.”
As he began to limp in that direction, trying not to put any weight on her, she wrapped her arm around his waist, and laughed.
“Then I believe I can manage to say, aye, I’ll marry ye!”
He had every intention of making her scream, “Aye!” many times that night, and the thought …made him smile.