SCOTTISH PROVERB They did not make it past the scullery the first time Hugh made love to her. But he managed to get her up to his bedchamber for their second go. And their third. She dozed now, curled against his chest, where she belonged. A wisp of her hair tickled Hugh’s chin and he smoothed it away, much too content and satisfied to consider her intention to leave as soon as the weather cleared. He did not want her to go. And why should she be so anxious to go into hiding at Dundee, without any of her belongings, when she could stay at Glenloch, with him? Hugh had not yet suggested that she stay, although his actions surely spoke volumes. She could not possibly mistake his desire for her. He intended to remain at Glenloch at least a month, and he could think of no better way to pass his leisure time there than with Bridget MacLaren. He wanted to make love with this woman in every room of the castle, and sleep every night through with her in his arms. Her chess game was a reflection of her personality, he thought.
