took his hand, and he kissed hers too.
“Such a gentleman,” Isla teased, and he passed her a wry smile.
“I must thank ye for the invitation to dine. The idea of walking the walls tonight is much less appealing.”
He spotted Dirk eyeing him from a dozen paces away, his brow furrowed and an irritated downturn to his lips. That man obviously wished Toran was still on watch, twenty feet above. The look was not unlike the glower he’d gotten from Simon when he’d left the barracks, though Simon wished him twenty feet under.
“We are glad ye decided to join us,” Lady Mackintosh said. “And I must offer ye my gratitude for keeping Jenny safe last night.” She seemed on the verge of saying something else but then bit back whatever it was.
“’Twas my duty to see to her safety, but alas, it was she who kept us all from collecting dragoon lead.”
Lady Mackintosh blanched slightly at his words.
“We are alive and well.” He beamed a smile, winking at the older woman in hopes of distracting her from the scare he’d inadvertently given her.
“And I am glad for it. Ye are most welcome to our table, sir. Would ye escort my daughter to her place?” She beckoned Dirk forward. “And I shall take the arm of my sweet nephew.”
Toran glanced down at Jenny, holding out his elbow for her to loop her arm through. She hesitated a moment and then hurried to oblige when her mother started to say something.
As they walked toward the table, he bent his head toward hers, enough to keep their conversation confidential but not enough to be inappropriate. “Did the invitation truly come from ye, Mistress J?”
He watched her smile, her eyes fixed straight ahead. How very much he wanted her to look upon him, to see that light and fire reflected in their depths. He settled instead for finding a pattern in the freckles of her skin, swearing he could connect the dots on her shoulder into the shape of a musket.
“I suppose it did, though the idea was entirely my mother’s.”
Toran let his gaze slide from her shoulders along to her neck, eyeing the dip at the base of her throat. He wanted to touch it, to lick it. “Ye wound me.”
Jenny’s cheeks flushed the barest hint of pink. “I didna wish to take ye away from the task ye seemed so excited to maintain.”
“My watch on the wall?”
“Aye.” She touched the spot on her neck where he’d been staring.
“To tell ye the truth, I’d much rather watch ye.”
They reached the table, and he pulled out her chair for her, tucking her into place, letting his fingers brush just lightly enough on her shoulder to feel the silken skin but not to gain her attention. Still, he could swear he heard her slight inhale. He started to move down the trestle tables to eat with the men when she called him back.
“Where are ye going?”
“To sit with the men.”
“My mother wishes for ye to sit here with us.”
“And ye? What do ye want?” The question was loaded, and he could see the intensity of it weighing on her. He leaned his head down closer and whispered, “Tell me.”
“Perhaps that is a question best left until after the meal. I shall require a walk and an escort.” The words were said so softly, he could barely make them out.
Toran raised a brow. “Is that a request, my lady?”
“Aye, if ye’re no’ otherwise engaged.”
He slid into the chair beside her. “I am free. Ye may do with me whatever your heart desires.” His gaze dipped to her lips, and color touched her cheeks.
“Ye’re verra generous,” she said with a flash of emerald eyes meeting his. “Perhaps my desire will be to lighten ye of your coin purse or your favorite weapon.”
“I must protest, but if ye desired them overmuch, I suppose I could part with both. Though I’d like visitation with my weapon of choice every now and then.”
She let out a soft laugh, a sound that gained the attention of several of those around the table. The sound was beautiful, a tickle to his ear that made him want to encourage it over and over, to give her that measure of happiness. Jenny was not a lass who laughed often, at least not in the few weeks he’d known her. She was serious, dedicated to the many people counting on her. He was curious some days to know how the hell she was still standing.
The servants