They had more in common than he realized.
I thought ye were not going to beg?
Oh, she wasn’t, Cora assured herself. Yet, neither was she going to duck her chin and be shuttled off home like some errant, half-grown child.
She entered the hall, and the conversation level dropped off until there was nothing but her footsteps on the stone floor.
Unbridled. She truly was. But to be such, she’d needed to cultivate confidence. Cora used every bit of it to keep her pace slow and steady. The moment Faolan looked up, she felt the connection between them. No matter if he sent her home within the hour, Cora knew without a doubt that she’d always remember the way his gaze made her heart accelerate.
Damn him…
Her temper stirred, but it had a purpose. Cora maintained her composure as she reached the end of the hall where the high ground was. The laird’s table was resting on a platform with three steps leading up. Faolan’s captains were seated to his left.
Cora stopped and reverenced. It gained her a murmur of approval from the McKay. Faolan didn’t raise her, though. She remained in position for a long moment before Yestin leaned close to Faolan and muttered next to his ear.
“Join us,” Faolan bit out.
He pressed his lips into a hard line of frustration as Cora made no effort at all to control the way her own lips curved into a smile.
At his expense.
Well, he shouldn’t have kissed ye…
No, he shouldn’t have, and Cora wasn’t going to think too hard upon just whether or not she wished he hadn’t.
Ye enjoyed it full well…
True, but she might just have to live with the memory of it while enduring another man’s touch.
A Retainer had stood to follow her up onto the high ground. He pulled out the large chair waiting for her. Orla might have been wearing a disapproving look, but the Head-of-House knew her duties well. Her staff was waiting with a bowl of water. The first woman presented it to Faolan, so he might wash his hands, while another followed him with a length of linen. Cora was next and then on to each captain in order of age.
Orla was in the mood to prove her superior skills. The plates for the high table were salted next. Salt was poured over the plates, and then it was rubbed into the surface with a bit of stale bread before being wiped clean. Such service ensured there was no poison. Each plate was sat neatly in front of them all the while behind them, young boys stood with each person’s cup. They were all from proven loyal families and each earning their future place by safeguarding those drinking vessels.
It was a noble service to be certain. The royal palace would not see better. Not even in England. Faolan looked toward Orla and raised his goblet to her. The Retainers slapped the tabletop in approval.
Cora felt a sense of accomplishment growing. Now that her personal battle with the Head-of-House seemed to be ending, Orla was turning her attention to making it clear she accepted Faolan as the new laird. He, in turn, acknowledged her position.
Both had swallowed their pride for the sake of unity.
No one missed it, but dinner began with a far more jovial mood than had been felt in some time. The lower tables were full of conversation, and Cora looked down to see a fine supper laid in front of her. She took a moment to inhale the scent of roasted meat, fresh fruit, and newly baked bread. There was even a bit of sweet butter since the cows hadn’t dried up yet.
There was a yelp from further down the high table.
Cora turned with her mouth full of bread to see Yestin delivering a slap to the side of one of the captain’s heads. But Faolan was staring at her, his expression dark and his gaze on the opening of her doublet. Cora looked down quickly, but there was no more on display than there had been that morning.
“What do ye mean dressing like that?”
Faolan’s tone was low, but she didn’t miss the sharp edges. Cora swallowed what was in her mouth and decided to return to her meal without answering him.
She lifted the piece of bread up again, but Faolan grasped her wrist before she was able to bite into it once more.
“There is naught wrong with me clothing, Faolan.”
“I disagree.” He cut back quickly. “I will find ye a different companion. Brynna should no’ have allowed ye out of yer chambers with those buttons open.”
“Ye are overbearing,” Cora informed him. “My summer dresses show far more of me neckline.”
His lips thinned. “Dresses ye will no’ be wearing here.”
Cora tried to pull her wrist from his grip. “Since ye have decided I do nae suit ye as a wife, there is little worry ye will see me in them.”
His eyes narrowed, and the grip he had on her wrist tightened. Cora drew in a stiff breath as his strength bit into her. Faolan suddenly stood up. The chair wasn’t too heavy for him. It went scooting back as the boy holding his goblet jumped to the side.
Faolan reached down and hooked the back of the chair she was seated in. He pulled it back with ease, leaving her gasping at the sheer amount of power in his body. His lips twitched up in response to her astonishment.
A moment later, he’d grasped her wrist again. Memories flashed through her brain but not fast enough for her to avoid being hefted over his shoulder once again.
The hall burst into laughter.
“Enjoy yer meal!” Faolan called out to his men.
“Enjoy yers, Laird!” someone yelled up from the main floor.
More laughter followed. Cora felt her face burning as Faolan carried her down the steps of the high ground and on through the side opening of the hall.
“Put me down!” she demanded.
Faolan smacked her bottom in return.
Her temper flared, and she started to straighten up, but Faolan made a turn and started up a stairwell. It was a tight area that promised her a whack on the head if she did rise up.
“Ye have no right to carry me out of the hall, Faolan!” Cora yelled at him the moment he turned her loose.
He kicked the door to his chamber shut in response. At least having her hair pinned up made it so Cora didn’t need to brush the strands out of her face. Instead, she was able to face off with him the moment she was on her feet.
“Lonn was enjoying the sight of yer cleavage, woman.”
“Peeking through the front of me doublet is no’ going to afford him much of a view,” Cora responded. She opened three more of the small buttons to reveal the top of her corset. “Now, there is part of me on display.”
Faolan closed his eyes. He appeared to be fighting for self-control. Cora felt some semblance of thinking returning as she realized she pushed him past his limits.
Ye are playing with fire.
No, she was baiting a wolf. And he had it coming for thinking he could do everything in life alone.
“When ye tell me ye do nae think I am strong enough to be yer wife, Faolan, ye can nae be jealous.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I kissed ye first, Cora.”
Her temper flared up bright.
“Well, ye should never have kissed me.” Cora pointed at him. “I was not yers to kiss.”
Something burned in Faolan’s eyes. He reached out and grasped her wrist. A moment later, she was tumbling into him as he tugged her forward.
“Ye are mine, Cora.” Faolan clamped a hard arm around her body and used it to secure her in place while he kissed her.
It was a hard kiss, but she returned it with every bit of agitation inside her. There was no struggle to regain her self-control. Instead, she threw everything aside in a bid to make the most of the moment.