An image came to mind of her on her knees taking him into her mouth, and Conran stopped at the top of the stairs, battling the urge to turn around, rush down, grab Evina by the hand and lead her someplace where they could do all those things. But then he gave his head a shake and forced himself to continue forward. She was a married woman, with a husband who wouldn’t take kindly to his wife indulging in such things with another man. At least Conran wouldn’t take kindly to her sleeping with someone else if she were his wife. Where the hell was her husband?
Away performing his service for the king, he supposed. Or perhaps off with some lover somewhere. Maybe there was a reason Evina had been so free with him. Mayhap her marriage was miserable and her husband neglected her.
Conran shook his head slightly. It didn’t matter. She was married. He would do better to stay away from her while here. His conscience couldn’t bear his trysting with a married woman when there were so many unmarried and available women out there willing to satisfy his needs. From now on, he would keep his distance from Lady Evina MacPherson, he told himself firmly . . . and just hoped that was something he could manage.
Chapter 4
“What’s going on between ye and me daughter?”
Conran was reaching out to retrieve more bandages from the trunk he’d pulled over beside the bed when the Maclean asked that. The question startled him sufficiently that he dropped the wrappings on the floor. Cursing, he bent to pick them up and eyed the bits of dirt and pieces of rushes clinging to the formerly clean cloth. Conran tossed the soiled material aside with disgust and grabbed a clean one.
“Well?” Fearghas Maclean asked, sounding testy.
“What do ye mean?” Conran asked carefully. Nothing was going on between him and Evina. At least, nothing had gone on between them in the four days since he’d learned she was married. He’d been avoiding her like the plague since then. Fortunately, she appeared to be doing the same, making it easier for him to steer clear of the temptation she offered with her very presence.
“I ne’er see the two o’ ye together,” the Maclean growled, sounding annoyed. “She sits with me while ye eat, and leaves the minute ye return. ’Tis like ye’re avoiding each other. Are ye still mad at her for kidnapping ye and dragging ye here?”
Conran sat back to peer toward the man’s face, but since Fearghas was lying on his stomach in the bed with his head down, he couldn’t see his expression. Narrowing his eyes, Conran asked, “Ye ken about that?”
“I was awake when they first brought ye up here,” he admitted. “I heard everything. Well,” he added, his voice wry, “most o’ it anyway. I was a bit out o’ me head at the time. The fever was doing me in. But I got enough to understand ye did no’ come here willingly.”
Conran remained silent for a moment and concentrated on packing the wound, but finally said, “I am no’ angry about that. I do no’ believe she intended to kidnap me.” Well, certainly she hadn’t intended to kidnap him, he thought. He wasn’t Rory. But he didn’t even think she’d planned to kidnap Rory. “’Twas just an unfortunate turn o’ events that ended with me being knocked out, and carted here without their gaining my agreement first.”
“Hmm,” Fearghas muttered, and then asked, “So why are the two o’ ye avoiding each other?”
“Where is her husband?” Conran asked instead of answering the question.
“Her what?” The Maclean reared up on the bed, pushing his chest up with his arms and turning to gape over his shoulder at him with amazement.
“Her husband,” Conran said, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “I asked why she was no’ married and she said she was.”
“Oh. Aye.”
Conran caught the grief that flashed across the laird’s face, but then the Maclean allowed himself to drop back to lay flat again with a sigh. A moment passed before he answered his question though.
“Her husband’s dead.”
The words were blunt and spoken in an empty voice that told Conran how much the loss had affected Fearghas Maclean. Conran stared at the back of the man’s head, his thoughts in a mass of confusion. Part of him wanted to shout, “Yes!” at the news that Evina was widowed and so had not been messing about behind some