Cursing, he turned and stormed for the door. Spearing Gertie and Ebba with a look as he approached, he gestured over his shoulder. “See to her wound!” he ordered, then caught Allistair’s gaze as he moved through the men. “Post someone to stand guard until I can fetch Duncan back.”

He made such a commanding figure as he swept from the room, that one could almost overlook the fact that he wore only the shirt he slept in. A long shirt, thank goodness, that reached nearly to his knees, but only a shirt all the same.

“What is it?” Kelly asked, peering at Duncan with surprise as he eased her gently away from him.

Duncan hesitated briefly, unwilling to voice what had suddenly made him stop her actions. “I’m married now,” he pointed out, sitting up on the edge of the bed.

“Aye, and so ye were when ye entered me cottage.”

Duncan grimaced at the asperity of her words, then stiffened as she shifted to sit beside him and reached around to grasp him through his plaid.

“Why, yer as limp as wet flax!” she exclaimed with dismay, then stood quickly and shifted before him. “Ne’er mind. Old Kell’ll take care o’ that.”

Dropping to her knees before him, she flipped his plaid out of the way and took him into her mouth. Duncan jerked in surprise at the summary action, then simply stared at the top of her head as she labored over him. Her hair was as red as fire. Or would be if she washed it more often, he thought, frowning at the dull, greasy look of her locks. In comparison, Iliana’s hair shone like polished wood and smelled of lemons and honey. He had asked her about that the day in the woods. How did she make her hair smell so? He loved that smell. He had buried his face in it and breathed that scent the whole time he was loving her in the grass. God, just thinking of it made him hard.

Kelly gave a murmur of satisfaction as he grew within her mouth, shattering the image of Iliana in Duncan’s mind. Opening his eyes, he peered down at her, stiffening when he thought he saw movement on her scalp. Lice? he wondered with dismay, unsure why he was so horrified. Lice were common enough, but…He would bet her entire dowry that Iliana had no lice.

“Ye’ve gone soft again!”

Duncan grimaced at that complaint, then pushed the woman’s head away and stood. Stepping over her, he left the cottage without another word.

He was halfway back to the keep when he came across his father. Pausing on the path, Duncan took in the older man’s grim expression and arched his eyebrows. “What is it ye’ve got in yer craw?”

“Finished lazin’ about, are ye? Ready to return to yer wife? Ye do remember her, do ya not? Wee lass. Bonnie.”