for adventure. Defying all the voices of logic that had been torturing his mind, he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her thoroughly and possessively.
When breathless, he tapped his forehead to hers. “I pray that was more enjoyable than the last.”
She cupped his cheek with a gloved palm made icy by the chill in the air. “Unbelievably enjoyable, but it is I who must apologize this time.”
Angus pushed a lock of her hair beneath her veil. “Nay.”
“Aye. After all, ye are a sworn enemy of the O’Cahan Clan.” With a sigh, she moved off of his lap. “We’d best head back afore the snow begins to stick in earnest.”
Angus’ heart sank like a stone. What the hell am I doing?
12
Anya completed rolling a newly spun wool into a skein and placed it on the shelf in the solar. “’Tis hard to believe your tapestry is nearly finished, my lady.”
Angus’ mother sat at her loom and drew the shed stick through the tight rows of thread. “Aye, and it has been a long time in the making.”
Anya examined the detail of the three birlinns sailing on dark blue waves crested with white. “It is one of the most beautiful works I have ever seen.”
“Ye are kind to say so.”
“Nay, I am but honest.” Anya pointed to the spindle and distaff. “I’ve finished with the wool. Is there anything else ye need of me?”
Her Ladyship inclined her head toward a linen garment folded on the table. “Angus’ new shirt is ready. Would ye mind taking it to him?”
Gulping, Anya quickly turned away so the Dowager Lady Islay wouldn’t see the color rushing to her face. “To His Lordship?” she squeaked.
“Please.”
Anya moved to the table and traced her finger around the expertly stitched collar. It warmed her to know this shirt would be worn by Angus. If only she could keep it for herself. Then she’d have something she might wear to bed while she dreamed of being in his arms. The problem was every time she was alone in his presence, she did things that were positively audacious and scandalous. Like kissing him or wishing him to kiss her.
“Should I deliver it to his chamber?” she asked.
“Nay, he ought to be in the lord’s solar.”
Oh, dear. Anya had grown up the daughter of a lord and it had always been unwise to broach anything with Papa when he was within. “But I doubt he’ll need a new shirt in there.”
“Nay, however, I want him to see it now.”
Anya curtseyed. “Yes, my lady. I shall return anon.” She collected the shirt, careful not to unfold it before she hastened out the door. The Dowager Lady Islay was so much different in comparison to Lady Ulster. The former certainly did not need a lady-in-waiting and seemed to dream up things for Anya to do. The countess, on the other hand, always had the two O’Cahan sisters attend her every whim, insisting it was good experience so they would know what would be expected of them when they married into noble families.
The countess would never make a shirt for her husband, or anyone, for that matter. She would either have Finovola or Anya do it, or she would ask the tailor. Neither did Lady Ulster own a loom. At Carrickfergus, the spinning of wool was never done above stairs, either. In truth, Anya had enjoyed the bit of spinning she’d done for the dowager, and weaving looked interesting as well as intricate. That Her Ladyship had acquired such a skill was truly astonishing.
But it was odd that the woman had asked Anya to take the shirt to her son. The Lady Ulster would have assigned the task to a servant, who would have delivered the garment to the lord’s bedchamber without interrupting the earl’s day. But now here she was on her way to the Lord of Islay’s solar.
Rory met her in the corridor, his wiry beard sticking out every which way as if he’d been scratching it. “Where are we off to, miss?”
“Well…” A hundred saucy responses came to mind, though she opted for a completely different tack. “By the state of your whiskers, Wolfie, I reckon ye’re looking more like a wolfhound every day. Aside from that, I thought ye might like a change of place, else your old bones might grow so stiff ye’d be stuck against the wall beside Her Ladyship’s solar for the rest of your days.”
He chuckled, always seeming to enjoy her little jibes. “No need to tell