The Highlander's Forbidden Mistress - Anna Campbell Page 0,25

kissed her like this, the effect on her susceptible heart was more powerful than when he kissed her as if he wanted to devour her.

His embrace made her feel so safe that she didn’t step away when Mary came in with two steaming ewers of hot water, followed by Jock with the bags.

Mary set one jug on the mahogany washstand in the corner and carried the other through to what Selina assumed was the dressing room next door.

"Shall I unpack for ye, my lord, madam?" Mary asked when she came back into the bedroom.

"Aye, please," Brock said, moving away from Selina. "By the way, I didn’t introduce you all downstairs. Mrs. Martin, these are my kinfolk Mary and Jock Drummond. They take very good care of this house while I’m away."

Mary curtsied. "Madam, we hope ye enjoy your stay. We’ll do our best to make this a happy visit."

"Thank you," Selina said. "It’s a beautiful place."

Jock bowed. "Aye, it’s nae bad. But it’s nae the Highlands." He was smiling as he carried Brock’s bag through to the dressing room.

Mary lifted Selina’s bag onto the bed and started to lay out its contents on the gold and blue brocade cover. "Have ye been to Scotland, madam?"

"No, I haven’t."

The servants’ informal air contrasted with Derwent Hall, where the staff were trained to speak only when spoken to. This ease made Selina feel more relaxed.

"Och, that’s a great pity. It’s a bonny country."

"I’m sure." She’d always wanted to travel, but while Roderick would go as far as Timbuctoo for a horse race or a boxing match, he’d never have contemplated taking his wife with him. Cecil made regular visits to his mills in the north. She supposed that after she married him, she’d accompany him on occasion.

Brock took her hand and drew her toward a wide window seat. Outside, the darkness deepened. This house was so isolated, no lights shone across the endless marshes spreading around them. "You’d love Bruard," he said softly.

Feeling more at home by the minute, she left her hand in his. Mary displayed no salacious curiosity about her master’s relations with his new mistress. "Tell me about your home."

"It’s a castle in the far north, a day’s ride from the sea. It was built at the height of the age of chivalry and has four strong towers. Bruard has never been taken in war, although plenty have tried. You could walk a day in any direction without leaving Drummond lands."

Images of knights and damsels and moated fortresses flooded her mind. "It sounds like something from a fairy story."

"The castle stands above a loch, and on a calm day, the reflection is perfect. Not that we have so many calm days in the Highlands, mind you. The high hills surround it in green, except in summer, when the braes turn purple with heather. A river runs through the glen, teeming with trout and salmon."

Selina watched Brock’s face as he spoke. She couldn’t mistake how much he loved his home. "It must be glorious."

"Aye, that it is." She noticed that here with his kinfolk, the Scots tinge in his voice became more noticeable. This glimpse into the man beneath the rakish veneer thrilled her. She found the rake irresistible, but the man who spoke of his home with such longing threatened to steal her heart away.

His hold firmed on her hand. "I wish I could take you there."

"So do I," she admitted, although that wasn’t the entire truth.

Oh, she’d dearly love to see the landscape he described. But she couldn’t present herself to his clan as his mistress. It was bad enough having Mary, Jock and Erskine knowing what she was to the earl.

She regarded Brock with a faint frown. "What I don’t understand is why if you love it so much, you spend most of your time down here in England."

He spread her fingers over his thigh and began to play with them. The contact was casual, yet she felt the now familiar stirring of sexual interest.

He sighed, and she heard genuine regret in the sound. "When I was a lad, London was like a bright, shiny toy, glittering with fun and novelty."

"And women," she murmured. As if he drew her the way the moon drew the tides, she leaned in closer. Close enough that his tangy scent became the air that she breathed.

Self-derisive humor quirked his lips. "Aye, and women, too." He paused and raised her fingers to his lips. The brief kiss sent heat swirling through her blood.

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