Free Seducing the Spy by Sandra Madden Page B

only in height. A simmering virility curled about him like seductive smoke. The smoky essence of him clouded her mind and wrapped around Meggie, gently warming her, setting her heart to a furious beat.
    As soon as the dance ended, she led her grandfather to the bench where Deirdre waited. The dark-haired, orphaned girl was like a sister to Meggie. Not long after settling at Dochas, Meggie had taken Deirdre in, offering work, shelter, and love to the shy, quiet sixteen-year-old lass. In time, she had come to rely on Deirdre. Now she did not know what she would do without her. “Will ye watch the old man for a moment?”
    As always, Deirdre answered readily. “Aye.”
    An inexplicable excitement bubbled through Meggie as she left her grandfather and Deirdre to seek out the bard. She took deep breaths in hopes of easing the tumbling of her stomach and the trembling of her hands.
    Colm perched on the edge of a table, studiously observing the crowd. Meggie’s heart bounced in admiration. She allowed herself a moment before she greeted him with a smile. “Welcome to our Lughnasa celebration, Bard.”
    “Good eve, Mistress Fitzgerald. Ye look... well.” In fact, Meggie had taken great pains with her appearance, unusual for her. The sapphire velvet fabric of her gown fell in soft folds around her hips, and the deep, round curve of her chemise revealed a peek of cleavage ... all that she owned - a peek.
    Meggie had brushed her hair until it shone and then tied back the tumbling red curls with a ribbon in the same jeweled blue shade as her gown.
    “Well?” she teased. “I look well? Is that the only compliment that comes to a poet’s tongue?”
    “Ye are the most impertinent lass.” His brows met in a brief frown, followed by a grin.
    Merciful Mary! A grin that set her knees to knocking.
    Meggie had never seen Colm grin full-out before, holding nothing back. She never guessed at what her reaction might be. Now she knew. Entranced. Unable to move. At any moment, perhaps with her next breath, and right here in the great hall, Meggie feared she would make a goose of herself and fall at his feet. Was there such a thing as bard worship?
    Meggie thought not. She sucked up a deep, steadying breath.
    “I seek only to provoke your muse.”
    Colm’s deep, brown eyes met hers. “If anyone can inspire my muse, it will be you.”
    For a moment, Meggie, once again, lost the ability to breathe. Did he mean—? Could he be implying—?
    Nay. Most unlikely.
    “Is it true?” she ventured. “Have ye lost your muse?”
    “’Tis a temporary loss, I feel certain.”
    “Ye have not been able to compose an ode for Lughnasa?”
    He heaved a great sigh. “Nay, I regret to say.”
    Meggie felt like a murderess. In all likelihood, it was she who had killed his muse with the firing of her musket. “Perhaps after some time listening to the music and watching the dancers, a verse shall come to ye,” she suggested.
    “We can only hope,” he replied drolly.
    If Colm lost his gift and she was to blame, there was only one thing to be done. Meggie must provide a home for him in Dochas. He would be the castle bard for all to enjoy, a bit buggered perhaps, but nonetheless a poet for Dochas. Given time, his muse might even return.
    “Do ye like to dance?” she asked.
    “When I am able.”
    “If it were not for me – -”
    “Do not tease yourself.”
    His kindness did not change the fact. Meggie had caused the bard great pain and suffering ever since he had arrived. There must be a way to make it up to him.
    “I wish the remainder of your stay at Dochas to be pleasant. Ye have experienced enough distress.”
    “Do ye still believe me to be a werewolf?” he asked.
    Meggie found herself fascinated by the sharp pinpoints of golden light glimmering in his eyes.
    “Nay. I have yet to see your eyes turn red, nor hair to sprout on your knuckles.”
    The twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement. His eyes softened, inviting Meggie to dip into pools