Free Their Private Arrangement by Saskia Walker Page B

made frock coat over his clothing. If it was true about these two—that they shared physical congress—did that mean they both enjoyed women as well? Morag found her thoughts run wild with curiosity on the matter, and it was only with great effort that she managed not to stare directly at Mr. Grant as she wondered on it. She carried the tray to the table, dropped him a curtsy and then went on her way.
    Duggan had stayed by the doorway with his elbow resting on the frame so that she had to pass close to him as she left. She could not keep a smile from her lips, and gave him her most beguiling glance as she left the room. As she did, he smacked her playfully on the rump.
    â€œUntil next time,” he whispered.
    After that, Morag went about her duties with a lighter step and a constant smile. The expectant simmer in her loins was both a merry and welcome companion.
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    James Grant watched the exchange with curiosity, keenly aware of some deeper exchange between Duggan and the serving girl. It might have been nothing but a teasing manner on Duggan’s behalf, but James had a feeling there was more to it, and it left him somewhat concerned. Was Duggan tiring of him? Had he set his sights elsewhere?
    He and Duggan had known each other for several months, slowly stoking their mutual desire each time they met, until passion had taken control of them and they had tumbled together in a lusty embrace. There was no denying the nature of their friendship, from that moment on. They had been intimate lovers for only a matter weeks now, and each time Duggan left his side, James prayed he would return. The forbidden nature of their encounters sometimes made Duggan uneasy, and James often feared the land worker would stay away. To see Duggan with his eyes on the girl made James ache with uncertainty. Such things mattered to him greatly. Duggan stirred him as no other human soul ever had, and the thought that he might lose him to another haunted him.
    As Duggan closed the door, he rested his hand on the wood, as if he had wanted to touch the serving girl instead. When he turned to James he smiled, but there was a thoughtful look in his eye nonetheless.
    â€œYou desire the wench?” James asked. They had known each other long enough now that they kept few secrets. In fact they shared deep and meaningful discussions about the difficulties of their nature.
    Duggan met his gaze and nodded. “I cannot deny it.”
    â€œI would not want you to deny it, if that is what you feel,” James stated quickly.
    Duggan stared across the room at him for a long moment before he replied. “I’m not like you, James, for I am drawn to women as well as my own kind. It is a powerful lure, but it does not take away what I feel for you.”
    He thumped his fist to his chest, an action that stirred James and made him hunger for Duggan’s mouth, his touch and his body.
    â€œOftentimes I am torn asunder by it,” Duggan added, gazing at the fire in the grate as he spoke. “I was raised to believe I would have a wife and bairns. My nature has set me on a different path, but I cannot deny the urges I feel toward a lassie with fine hips and a winsome way about her.” He was thoughtful a moment then continued. “I’ve known of Morag many a year. I’ve seen her about, and I hear she is a fine worker.”
    At those words, James felt not jealousy but a wistful sense of regret. There was affection there. Would he lose this man with whom he had such a perfect bond? It was not an easy thing for him to consider. James had met Duggan the autumn before, when he pulled up his horse to ask directions. As an excise man he covered the inland region of Fife—always alert for the contraband goods that came in from France along the coast—and Duggan had rested on the handle of his pitchfork while he gave the directions. Even then James knew from the specific interest the other man showed in his appearance and