Chapter 35

Jenefer spread out the napkin she’d pilfered from supper on the bedchamber table. Then she fished a cooled piece of charcoal from the hearth. By holding the cloth taut and carefully dragging the sharp edge of the charcoal along the surface, she could draw black lines on the white linen.

“What are you doing?” Feiyan asked.

“Making plans.”

“Plans for what?” Feiyan leaned over her shoulder. “An escape tunnel?”

“Improvements.”

She began rendering the curtain wall, moving it out a considerable distance from where it was now.

“Improvements to what?”

“To Creagor.”

“You haven’t even won the keep yet,” Feiyan pointed out.

“I have a plan for that as well.” Jenefer gave her a cryptic smile.

Feiyan arched a sardonic brow. “Does it involve eating them out of house and home? Because that’s the only plan you seem to be employing at the moment.”

Jenefer gave her a simmering glare. “Well, at least I’m not training their soldiers.”

Feiyan colored.

Jenefer worked in silence after that.

Meanwhile, Feiyan salvaged her pride by punching and kicking at the air in the strange fighting style she’d learned from her mother’s servant.

“So, Feiy,” she said casually, “what do you know about seducing men?”

Feiyan was so startled by the question, she stumbled in the middle of a lunge and almost kicked herself right off her feet. “Wha-what?” Then she planted indignant fists on her hips. “What makes you think I would know anything about seducing men?”

“Don’t you?”

Feiyan’s jaw dropped in disbelief.

Jenefer shrugged. “I figured you had lots of experience.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Jenefer didn’t know why her cousin was so upset. “’Tis a simple question. Aye or nay? Do you or do you not know how to seduce men?”

“What kind of a strumpet do you think I am?” Feiyan demanded.

“So you don’t know?”

Feiyan answered with a growl, then bit out, “Nay, Jenefer. No doubt you have swived your way through the ranks of your father’s knights. But I…” She halted, narrowed her eyes, and cocked her head. “Wait. Why are you asking me that?”

Jenefer shrugged. “Just…curious.”

But Feiyan was as perceptive as a hunting hound when it came to sniffing out answers. “Are you planning to seduce someone?”

Jenefer didn’t care for Feiyan’s amused tone. “Nay.”

“You are, aren’t you?” Then she inhaled sharply. “Thor’s ballocks! Don’t tell me you’re going to try to seduce the Highlander?”

Before Jenefer could deny it, Feiyan erupted into peals of laughter.

Though Jenefer would never admit it, her cousin’s mirth made her suddenly uncertain of her plan. What if she didn’t have the charm or wit or wiles to seduce Morgan?

But she couldn’t afford self-doubt. Turning hurt into fury, Jenefer wheeled and gave Feiyan a hard shove.

Unprepared, Feiyan plopped onto her arse on the floor. Her laughter was cut short, and revenge flared in her eyes.

“If that’s your idea of seduction,” Feiyan sneered, nodding to the drawing Jenefer had made, “then you might as well toss those plans onto the fire.”

Jenefer was saved from having to think of a cutting retort. A thin, sad cry leaked through the wall from the nursery.

Miles.

She clenched her jaw. If Miles hadn’t been wailing, Jenefer would have stayed to settle things between her caustic cousin and her, once and for all, with her fists.

But the babe’s cries were growing louder. If she didn’t go to the nursery of her own accord, Bethac would come knocking. And she didn’t want the maid to witness her beating Feiyan to a bloody pulp.

So she threw the piece of charcoal at Feiyan, making her flinch out of the way, and left, slamming the door behind her. With a curt nod to the guard, she stalked down the hallway.

Taking a deep, calming breath, she swung open the nursery door, expecting to see Bethac pacing in frustration.

What she saw instead made her freeze in stunned amazement. Before her was the most magnificent embodiment of a warrior she’d ever seen.

Morgan stood in all his naked glory.

Wet and dripping from his bath.

Gleaming from the light of a dozen candles.

Holding a babe that was squalling loud enough to summon the dead.

Her gaze involuntarily raced from the top of the man’s freshly washed head, down his perfectly sculpted body, to his sturdy bare feet, and back up again.

She’d seen plenty of nude men before. Spending as much time as she did in the armory ensured that. But this one took her breath away.

Before she could make a stammering fool of herself, she turned to secure the door behind her and catch her breath.

When she turned back, Morgan’s confused expression had grown to complete discomfiture.

Suddenly, despite her fascination with the Highlander’s godlike contours, she thought the spectacle before her might be the most hilarious and awkward thing she’d seen in a long time.

Morgan—completely naked, vulnerable, and alone—was holding Miles in his outstretched arms as if the babe were a feral, raging wildcat that he feared might deliver a lethal bite.

She clapped her hand over her twitching mouth, furrowing her brow and trying not to smile.

She was unsuccessful.

“Lass, will ye not…” he started, wincing every time Miles let out a particularly piercing scream. “Can’t ye… What the… Are ye goin’ to just stand there, or…”

If it weren’t for Miles’ distress, Jenefer would have loved to have just stood there watching Morgan struggle with the infant and squirm in naked discomfort.

But she had a heart. And the sight of Morgan was doing strange, uncontrollable things to her. So she took mercy on the babe and his incredibly splendid father.

Sweeping past his oversized tub, she caught a whiff of woodruff—her favorite scent. She smiled in approval. Morgan must have sprinkled it in his bath, just as she always did.

Advancing, she plucked Miles from Morgan’s hands and settled him against her shoulder.

To her disappointment, Morgan immediately snatched up a linen square and tied it around his hips. Not so quickly that she didn’t catch a glimpse of his well-muscled buttocks. And not before she stole a last peek at the manly treasure nestled in his crop of dark hair.

“My thanks,” he mumbled, running an embarrassed hand through his wet locks. “Bethac said he was sleepin’. She said he’d be fine. And then she left and… She said she’d come back, but she hasn’t and…”

“He is fine.” It was amusing how inept this brave, bold warrior was when it came to his son. She would have thought he’d know more about his own flesh and blood.

Perhaps he’d taken little interest in the babe since he’d lost Miles’ mother.

She thoughtfully pursed her lips. If that were so, Jenefer could use that to her advantage in her plans to seduce the Highlander.

She placed a tender kiss on Miles’ head. “He’s only wailing because he misses his dear Jen, don’t you, lad?”

Morgan sat on the edge of the bed. While she sauntered around the chamber, she felt him studying her, as if he meant to memorize her infant-soothing tactics.

She rubbed Miles’ back and murmured to him, loud enough for Morgan to hear. “Ah, don’t you fret, Miles. I’m here now. I’ll keep you safe and warm. And I vow I won’t trade you for a beastie.”

Miles let out a pathetic, shuddering cry.

“Oh, I know,” Jenefer told him. “I know you lost your ma. How hard it must be for you.” She gave Morgan a brief sidelong glance. “But I can be your ma for a wee while, can’t I? At least until the laird says I have to go.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Jenefer saw Morgan open his mouth to say something. But Miles interrupted with a wail.

“Ah, sweet wee child, I’ll miss you as well. But what are we to do?”

After a few more circles around the nursery, Miles’ cries diminished. His face relaxed, and his eyes drifted shut. Jenefer slowly and carefully lowered him back into his cradle, tucking the sheepskin in around him.

When she turned to face Morgan, she saw gratitude in his eyes.

She saw something else as well.

Attraction. And speculation.

Perhaps Feiyan was right. Perhaps Jenefer didn’t have the skills to seduce a man. Perhaps she couldn’t tempt the Highlander.

But she could maneuver him. She could make herself seem indispensible to his son. And she believed she’d just planted that seed.

“He should sleep well now,” she whispered, “at least until Bethac returns.”

He nodded.

She gazed at the oversized tub surrounded by candles. Was that water actually steaming?

Jenefer rarely got a hot bath. And never one in such an enormous tub. Water took so long to heat, and the tubs at home were pitifully small. Thanks to a good measure of Viking blood, she’d grown accustomed to bathing in the loch most of the year. Still, that warm, fragrant, spacious bath looked inviting indeed.

She looked away to feast her eyes on the handsome warrior one last time. Then she smiled and swept her arm toward his luxurious, linen-lined tub. “Enjoy the rest of your bath.”