a voyeur?
Nothing actually, but everyone is entitled to privacy.
If you say so. Timothy actually groaned in his head.
“Ciaran, I came to apologize. I didn’t mean to make things rough on you this afternoon. I only meant to help.”
Out of his peripheral vision, Bannon saw Ciaran turn to look over his shoulder, but he continued to stare at the timber beams in the ceiling.
“Dinna fash yeself. I ken ye were trying tae help.”
“But what about the council? They said they want Louie and me to leave. Perhaps we can go with….” His stomach wadded itself up in a knot, and he could not make himself finish the statement, even though he was sure Patrick and Marcus would welcome them. The truth was, he really did not want to leave. Lochwood felt like… not home exactly, but perhaps a home away from home. He’d known he had feelings for Ciaran, but the strength of them surprised even him.
“I dinna want ye tae leave.” The gentle conviction in Ciaran’s deep whisper sent Bannon’s head reeling.
He lowered his head without thinking and his gaze met Ciaran’s.
Big mistake. He was snared as surely as if he’d been caught in a trap. Those deep dark eyes drew him in and refused to let him go. That gaze simmered.
Ciaran’s lip curled up ever so slightly on the right side, the grin both flirtatious and… caring? “Come over here so I can look at ye while we talk. I’m getting a crick in my neck.”
Forget manners, privacy, and societal dictates! Bannon could not refuse even if he wanted to, and he did not want to. He walked forward as if in a daze. Moving to the side of the tub, he stood there, not quite knowing what to do.
Ciaran looked up at him from the tub and reached out a hand.
Bannon became mesmerized by those long fingers and callused palm. Water dripped down Ciaran’s forearm and off his elbow into the tub. A few sprinkles abandoned his fingers for the carpet of woven rushes below. With his attention glued to Ciaran’s hand, Bannon took it and let himself be pulled down.
“I don’t want to leave,” Bannon whispered, but it sounded more like a plea. He sat beside the tub, and Ciaran did not release his hand. Bannon knew there were no bubbles, he could steal a peek if he wanted to, but he didn’t want to… not yet. It didn’t feel right. He did not want to break this trancelike connection between them—he wanted it to build—so he shifted his gaze, staring at the fire.
“I dinna want ye tae leave either.”
Euphoria filled Bannon, and he fought the urge to sigh. Timothy wasn’t as strong; he did sigh.
“I’m still laird, and I have the support of my warriors. My men make up two-thirds of the clan.”
“Mutiny, then?”
“Nae mu….” He shrugged. “Perhaps, if need be.”
Bannon smiled. “I don’t want to cause problems. I want to help. That’s why I came in here to talk to you. I’ve been thinking about this afternoon and what Maggie said about her garden.”
Ciaran cocked his head to the side a little.
“You are short on food, but I have not noticed any sort of garden in the castle. And there is no livestock inside the castle walls except horses.”
“The crofters supply us with food. It is how they pay rent,” Ciaran said, as if it should be obvious.
But it wasn’t obvious. Back home at Eversleigh Manor, the tenants paid Father money. They had their own gardens and their own livestock at the manor. “But you are short on food?”
“Aye. Last spring was a harsh one, and now that the crofters are getting raided, things are a little rough.” Ciaran frowned and a furrow creased his brow. He brought his knees up, closer to his body.
Bannon resisted the urge to look at the glassy surface of the water and cursed the lack of bubble. What was a bath with no bubbles? “Then why don’t you bring livestock inside the castle gates? Why not build a garden? We can replant Maggie’s gardens and take some cuttings. Then you can charge the crofters money, and buy more supplies.”
Ciaran opened his mouth, but Bannon held up a hand. He already knew what was coming. He’d already discovered how generous Ciaran was and how much he cared for his clan. “When they are able to pay. Perhaps now you can send men to help guard the crofters’ livestock?”
After staring at him for several moments, Ciaran nodded, then reached out and