Lucy Monroe - Moon Awakening

"I told Marta not to assign you household chores."

Emily made a face at the ball of dough and muttered about high-handed lairds before looking up. Lachlan was watching her, his expression less than pleased, his big warrior's body making the kitchens feel like a small area in a way that several helpers and she did not.

"She didn't."

His dark brow rose hawklike in a silent demand for clarification.

"Cait has been put in charge of household matters in the keep. She instructed me to help with the bread-making."

"She instructed you?" he asked in a deadly soft voice she did not understand.

"It is only fair. I instructed her to take a nap after we finished assessing the contents of the food storeroom."

"Why were you doing her chores with her?"

" She enjoys my company. She does not think I am a nuisance."

"Until you told her to take a nap," he said, his face solemn.

"She didn't consider me a nuisance then, just annoying, and she did not tell me to help with the bread-making in retaliation. She knows I like to keep busy."

"As does she, I'm sure."

"She needed the nap."

His brows rose at her snapping tone. "Did I imply she did not?"

"No," she said grudgingly. "A pregnant woman needs more rest anyway, but she was yawning every other breath. I don't think she got much sleep last night."

In fact, she was sure of it.

Emily had flooded Cait with questions until she understood the full moon hunting ritual and all that it entailed.

She'd learned that although Cait had not hunted with the other wolves, she had stayed up late to share a meal with Drustan. She'd blushed in the telling and Emily assumed that a meal wasn't all she had shared with her husband.

Emily hadn't told Cait about Lachlan coming to her chamber. It had seemed too private a thing to share, even with a friend as close as a sister.

"She is lucky you care for her like you do."

"I am blessed by her friendship as well."

From the sidelong glances she and Lachlan kept getting from the other women in the kitchen area, she guessed her conversation with their laird was highly intriguing to them.

Lachlan looked at the other women and then back to Emily. "I want to speak with you."

She folded the dough over itself and then pressed it firmly together. "I'm almost finished kneading this."

"It can wait."

"No, it can't."

Two of the women at the table gasped and one stared at Emily bug-eyed, no longer making any pretense of not listening. Emily pretended not to notice and continued with what she was doing.

"Dare you refuse me?" he asked, sounding mean.

She grimaced. "You said you liked my plain-speaking."

"I did not say I liked disobedience."

She was not a child to obey without question, though she knew many men saw women that way. As arrogant as he was, she did not believe Lachlan was so shortsighted, but she would take that up with him later. "I did not disobey. I merely told you the truth. If I don't finish kneading the dough now, it will not rise properly. The other women are all busy with their own chores. Would you have me leave mine undone because you have not the patience to wait a minute longer?"

"You have the makings of a termagant, do you know that, English? You remind me of my grandmother."

"Your father or your mother's mother?" she asked as she continued to knead.

"My father's."

She reminded him of a femwolf then. That was interesting, wasn't it? "Did you call her a termagant?"

"Think you I am a fool?"

She shook her head. "Far from a fool."

"Good. Our discussion will be easier if you do not make the mistake of believing me stupid."

"That sounds ominous."

"I wonder why, unless you have secrets you seek to hide?"

Did he know about Talorc? Had Cait told Drustan after all? She had said nothing, but Emily had hardly given her the chance, she'd been so busy asking questions about the Chrechte. Then they had been around others and forced to discuss less sensitive topics.

"Everyone has secrets, laird."

"Mayhap. I will know yours, English."

"And will you tell me yours?" she asked, meeting his gaze directly for the first time since he arrived in the kitchens.

"I already have," he said softly.

A strange sensation settled low in her belly at his look and she swallowed. He was not going to pretend that the night before had been a dream. He would not deny coming to her. Perhaps he would even explain why he had. The day was suddenly much brighter.

She patted the dough into a ball and covered it with a light cloth. "There, that is done. The wait was not so bad, was it, laird?"

"Nay."

Encouraged by his less surly manner, she hurriedly washed and dried her hands before turning to face him once again. "Shall we go?"

He did not respond, but merely turned to leave. She followed. He led her back to the keep and into the great hall, but he did not stop there as she expected. He continued up a set of wooden stairs to a landing much like the one in her father's keep. Beyond it was the solar, but he did not stop there either. He led her into a bedchamber dominated by a giant bed covered with furs and a plaid.

"Why are we here?" she asked in a squeak.

He closed the door with a resounding thud that seemed to echo through the chamber even though her ears told her it really had not. "Privacy."

"Werewolves can hear what humans cannot."

"Yes, but I'm wondering how you know this."

She stared at him, mute. She could not betray Cait's confidence.

"Actually, I'm not. You could know only one of two ways. Either Talorc told you, or Cait. I'm guessing it wasn't the laird. It had to be his sister. She put a great deal of trust in you."

"We are like sisters," Emily whispered, praying he would not punish Cait for telling her. "Talorc should have told me."

"He refused to marry you. There was no need."

"But Cait was within her rights to tell me."

"Because you are like sisters?"

"Yes."

"She put her life, the lives of her pack in your hands."

"I won't betray her, or you."

"I know, but it amazes me she does. I would not tell another warrior, even one I called friend."

"But you would tell your brother."

"Yes."

"There, you see."

"I see that you and Cait are very lucky in your friendship."

"I agree." But she liked hearing he thought so much of her heart-sister. She licked her lips. "I thought you would try to pretend you had not come to me last night."

"I thought you planned to tell yourself it was a dream."

"It didn't work. You left your scent behind and… you don't leave me in my dreams." She hadn't meant to admit that, but she did not regret doing so. Her feelings were paltry things if she was ashamed to admit to their existence.

He sighed, his eyes filled with emotions she could not decipher. "I cannot keep you, Emily."

"Because I am human."

"I have a duty to my clan and to my pack."

"Your father married a human."

"And had a human child."

"Ulf."

"Yes."

"We know our own kind."

She wrinkled her nose in consternation. "I can't tell the difference."

"Because you are not one of us."

The words had a chilling impact on her senses. "No, I am not one of you."

"Bloody hell, Emily. I do not want to hurt you, but it is the way it is." He looked angry, but she could not understand why.

She had asked for nothing.

"I know. Truly, I do, Lachlan." Refusing to give into cowardice, she said, "I still want you."

An expression that was almost frightening in its intensity came over his face. "I want you, too, but I cannot take you."

"Why? Cait said you don't practice the same mating laws her clan does."

"Her clan is now the Balmoral."

"You know what I mean. If you take me, we are not wed like the Sinclairs."