“But we just did that.”
“Och, lass, ye must ken that a mon is ever hungry for a woman as sweet and hot as ye are. Morning, noon, and night.” He paused just before kissing her mouth. “Are ye sore from all the riding?”
Arianna briefly considered saying she was for it was scandalous to roll about beneath the covers with a man she was not wed to when she was a guest at someone’s home. Then she cast her unease and fear of censure aside. Time was short for her and Brian and she was not going to allow anything to steal away the first truly peaceful moment they had shared. There would be no one riding hard on their heels, no one forcing them to run out the back of the keep, and no one forcing them to do more riding than she ever wanted to do again. There was also the fact that, if the falsity of her marriage to Claud ever became common knowledge, she would be marked a whore anyway, unfair though that was, so why not at least commit some sin she could have fond memories of?
“Nay,” she said, and pulled his face down to hers so that she could kiss him with all the renewed desire she could feel growing inside her.
“I think ye should marry that lass,” said Sigimor as he handed Brian a big tankard of ale.
Brian scowled at his cousin. He had suspected something different when the man had pulled him into his small ledger room. A discussion about what he should or should not be doing with Arianna was an odd choice for Sigimor. It was not any of the man’s business, either, but he knew telling Sigimor that would not deter him.
“Sigimor, I have naught to offer such a lass,” he said.
“Ye have yourself.”
“Weel, that willnae keep her properly housed, fed, clothed, or in jewels.”
“Dinnae think she cares much for those things. Of course, she will want to keep those lads. Is that it?”
“Of course not. Sigimor, she would sit higher at any table than I do and has spent the last five years as a countess. We both ken the Murrays are powerful, admired, and nay too poor. Some are cursed rich. ’Tis true that her marriage turned out to be a lie and the mon she thought was her husband was a cold, callous bastard, but she still had all the luxury such a position can give a woman. I cannae e’en afford to leave the keep where I have a small room and little privacy. Mayhap I could build a wee cottage in the village but nay more than that. Nay, she needs to go back to her family.”
“Ye are an idiot. Jolene was the daughter of an English Marcher lord. Didnae see that stopping me, did ye?”
“Weel, ye are a laird and rule Dubheidland. I am a younger son to a mon some think may be utterly mad and have more brothers than any mon should, most of them bastards.”
“Mayhap ye ought to try and see what she wants.”
“Women dinnae always choose wisely.” He ignored Sigimor’s snort of laughter.
“Do ye nay want her for more than a lass to warm your bed then? But then I am thinking ye ken weel that she will be marked if the news of her marriage being naught but a lie gets round.”
“She is nay like that,” he snapped. “’Tis nay as ye try to make it sound.”
“Yet ye will offer her nay more than a few nights and then send her home?”
“Aye, because I cannae offer her more. I am nay good enough for her, and her family would be quick to say so. I dinnae think she need worry about the news of her false marriage causing her trouble, either, for the Lucettes will wish to keep that as quiet as possible if only to keep the Murrays from wanting their blood. And before ye mention Gregor, the only reason Gregor has himself a Murray lass is because they traveled together and she was a maid. He ne’er would have even tried to reach so high otherwise. There really wasnae much choice if she was to hold fast to her honor and he his. ’Tis just good that they wanted to be together. If I already had a wee piece of land, a nice wee house, and some coin, I might try to woo Arianna, but I dinnae have any of that yet.”
“Brian, if ye wait until ye have all ye think she wants or needs, ye will be sitting alone in your fine wee house with your nice full purse, looking out at your wee piece of land, and wishing ye had ne’er let her go, but it will be too late. Aye, and she will be set somewhere with a new husband and five or six children at her skirts.”
That was a thought that chilled him to the bone but he quickly pushed it from his mind. “I think I would rather discuss what to do about these cursed DeVeaux and Amiel.” He sighed when Sigimor just stared at him. “I will think on what ye have said but may we now talk on the threat that still hangs o’er her head? I think that is of a more immediate importance.”