Free The Magic of Highland Dragons by Kella McKinnon

glimpsed her in passing, his heart had leapt into his throat and nearly taken his breath away. He would have to make some time to spend with her, and soon. He could feel the anticipation of finally touching her, like a living thing inside of him, hungry and wanting. It had been a very long time since he had felt such delicious excitement, and he reveled in it now.
    “Well, it’s nothing really, just that a few of the other lasses have said to me how odd it is that she has to be taught every chore from the beginning. She does a fine job, after, aye, but she came here no’ even kenning how to make a proper oatcake, or even what the simplest tools are used for. Couldna even dress a pheasant or set the laundry to boil without being shown first, they said. Och, it’s all verra strange, and I just thought ye should ken it.” He paused, rubbing his chin in thought. “Though it may be she’s just a bit simple. I hadna thought of that, the poor lass.”
    Bren pressed his lips into a straight line. The lass was anything but simple. The very personification of wicked temptation, aye. But not simple. He had seen the spark of intelligence in her eyes when she had first looked at him, as if she were sizing him up, trying to figure him out. But he was a man who was hard to decipher, even for himself, sometimes.
    “Aye, Colm, ye were right to tell me. I dinna think she’s simple, perhaps just verra inexperienced, but I will look into the matter further when I have the time.” He put his hand on Colm’s shoulder and gently ushered him back to the door. “For now, keep an eye on the lass and tell me anything that seems odd, and what the others say of her. I think she is harmless enough, and she will learn, as ye’ve said.”
    “Aye, my Lord. I thought as much, myself.” The steward bowed out of the room, hurrying back to his nearly endless tasks. Bren decided right then he would have to give him more gold next quarter, for he definitely deserved it. Colm worked very hard, took the brunt of the disputes and other unpleasantness of day to day life in the castle, and still kept track of even the smallest details. And the man had a wife and five children to care for, as well. Good and loyal help was not so easy to come by, and should be rewarded well.
    Bren sank down into his chair, putting his elbows on the heavy oak table he used as a desk. The ancient oak tree used to make the table had fallen in a storm, long ago. His own grandfather had fashioned it into this sturdy table. Then his father had used it for many years after that, until the day it became his. He slid one hand over the smoothly worn wood. He would have no other. It was also where he came to think, as if the wisdom of his father and grandfather had somehow been absorbed into the wood, his now for the asking.
    Dirc’s lass. Faith. She was a bit of a mystery. So she did not seem to know how to perform simple tasks that any lass would have learned at her mother’s knee. How could that be? Either she pretended ignorance, or she was not taught, and why would she not be taught unless she was never expected to do such things… unless she was not a servant-born . A little shock of recognition went through him. It was the truth, she was a lady-born. He should have seen it from the start. He thought about her pale ivory skin, her quiet beauty, the proud, straight way she held herself. The glimmer of defiance on her face that he had not quite recognized until now. And she had boldly met his eyes. A servant would have automatically dropped their gaze in deference. He slammed his palms down on the table. Why didn’t I see it before? Ha! Because I was already busy imagining her in my bed. “Oh, Dirc, ye are the verra Devil. What are ye playing at now?”
    Who the hell was she, then? And stranger still, no coddled lady he had ever known would actually make the effort to learn servant’s tasks and then carry them out. At least not without a few major temper tantrums along the