of night?” Rhiannon asked, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in her voice.
“Aye,” Adelstan said quickly. “Machara, did you get everything you needed?”
Machara glanced up at Adelstan. “For tonight,” she said, dropping her hand to her side. “I shall see ye on the morrow?”
“Aye,” Adelstan replied, and waited until she walked off, leaving the two of them alone.
“Lady Rhiannon, let me walk you back to your chamber,” he said, reaching for her arm, but she stepped away from him.
“That is not necessary,” Rhiannon said, walking toward the gate she’d just passed through.
“Do ye often leave your chamber unattended?”
“Nay, only when Elspeth is occupied.”
“Why do you go by way of the middle ward? It is dark, and you could run into trouble.”
“The only person I fear is my father.”
“Why is that?”
She turned to look at him, and almost wished she hadn’t. He was so gorgeous. “Because he looks for me to do wrong in order to punish me.” She had meant to say it lightheartedly, but it didn’t come out that way.
“I find it hard to believe that is so.”
Rhiannon shrugged. “Believe what ye will, Adelstan. It is not easy for me to come and go as I please like ye do. Ye may sulk around the bakehouse with a comely servant, but I, on the other hand, am not as fortunate.”
He straightened a little, his green eyes narrowing. What had Elspeth said…to use her wits? She need not act like a jealous wife. After what she had just witnessed, she seethed with jealousy, but by damn, she would not show it. “Is that why you are dressed as you are? So you can come and go as you please?”
She had forgot about the borrowed cloak and slippers. “Aye, it is.” She cleared her throat, uncomfortable with his direct gaze. “I am sure ye are tired after your sport, so I shall let ye go.”
“Rhiannon, please.”
Ignoring him, she pushed the door to the middle ward open and slipped through. A rush of wind blew the hood back, along with the cloak, the chemise whipping about her legs.
Rhiannon made no move to cover herself, especially seeing where Adelstan stared. She wanted him to look.
“You must be cold,” he said, grabbing for the edges of the cloak, trying to bring them together, but she pulled away.
Rhiannon’s heart skipped a beat as he looked down at her, the nerve in his jaw twitching. Despite her resistance, he caught the edges of the cloak together and pulled the material tight about her. “You shall catch your death.” He pulled the hood back over her hair. “Why did you leave your chamber dressed in so little?”
“I needed to think.”
“About?”
“My future.”
His gaze shifted over her face. “It is not wise to go out at night. A man might see you and get the wrong impression.”
“What kind of impression? That I am a servant who is out searching for a lover?”
She could not believe she had been so bold to say those words, and yet she felt a certain vindication having done so, especially when she noted the strange look of guilt in his eyes. He wondered if she had seen him with Machara or not, and was no doubt at this moment curious as to just how much she had seen.
Let him wonder.
“Who goes there?” a loud, booming voice said from the ramparts.
“Do not say a word,” Adelstan said, putting an arm around Rhiannon’s shoulder and pulling her close. She reveled in the heat and strength of his body flush against her own.
“It is I, Adelstan of Braemere.”
“Good evening, sir,” the guard called, a knowing smile on his lips. “I suggest ye stay to the inner ward. It is well lit.”
“Thank you,” Adelstan replied as he turned and walked back through the gate. “Keep your head down and put your arm about my waist. No one should stop us, and if they do, I shall do my best to protect your identity.”
Rhiannon slipped her arm around his waist and smiled inwardly when she heard his quick intake of breath.
They stepped into the inner bailey,