Chapter 7

The rain drumming on the roof was a monotonous sound that usually would have sent her right to sleep, but Lyla felt oddly wide awake. She tried rolling over, then tried getting a drink of water. She even tried counting sheep and tracing lines in the stone visible in the ember-glow in her hearth.

Nothing helped. Sleep remained elusive. Lyla finally sighed and rose from the mattress. If she couldn't sleep, she was going to find something to occupy her mind until she could.

Erin had always sworn by warmed milk, slightly sweetened, but that didn't suit Lyla's mood. She felt too restless for that. Instead, she wrapped her shawl around her shoulders, took up a lantern and made her way to the library, searching for something to read.

Most of the books on the shelves were things she'd read before. After a moment or two of consideration, Lyla made her way toward the back of the library, to a set of shelves Alyn had pointed out to her two days ago, with a warning to avoid them. It was supposed to contain books that were unsuitable for maidens – and not entirely suitable for married women either.

She'd heard of such books, but if there were ever any of those sorts of tomes in her father's library, he'd gotten rid of them long ago, or hidden them so thoroughly she'd never discovered them. Faced with the possibility of exploring something that was generally forbidden, Lyla couldn't resist. She made her way over to the shelf in question.

Some of the titles made her blush – ‘The Lord's Wanton Wife' for one. She chose one that seemed innocuous enough – ‘A Maid and Her Master' - and opened it to a random page.

Ten seconds later, her cheeks were burning, eyes wide as she read the words printed there. Apparently, the ‘Master' in the story had very unorthodox methods of disciplining his maids. Or at least, the maid who served as the main female character of the book. The language was very descriptive – far more lurid than even the most ribald stories she and Erin had ever overheard the guards telling when they'd sometimes snuck down to the barracks.

The things the characters of the book were doing... Lyla sank to the floor, her face so hot she was forced to set aside her shawl. She'd heard of what happened in the bedroom, but surely no one actually did these sorts of things!

A part of her wanted to slam the book shut and shove it into the darkest recesses of the shelf. Another part of her wanted to throw it in the fire, out of sheer embarrassment that she'd read it. Despite both feelings, she couldn't seem to put it down. She felt half-fascinated, half ashamed, as if she was spying on someone in an intimate moment, rather than just reading a book.

This cannae be the way things are between a man and a woman, can they? Surely Rowan or Erin would have warned me, if such activities were commonplace. And the way they describe the lass... I cannae imagine Erin ever acting in such a manner!

And yet, for all her embarrassment, Lyla couldn't deny the feeling of excitement and curiosity that swept over her. Her stomach seemed to be fluttering oddly, her thighs damp and her breath coming faster. Her cheeks felt hot, her mouth dry. It was as if she was sharing some of the excitement of the maid – strange as it seemed. She started to turn the page, as the activity intensified, when…

Hands landed on her shoulders, knocking her to the floor, as a harsh male voice demanded "What are ye... Lyla?"

Confused, dazed, and more than a little embarrassed, Lyla stared up, straight into the eyes of Daemon MacMillan.

* * *

Daemon stared down at the slight figure pinned beneath him, and wondered if it was possible to turn to stone, or set oneself afire, by sheer embarrassment.

He'd been taking a walk through the halls before he retired, and thought he'd seen someone sneaking around and entering the library. He'd followed, his suspicions further aroused when the shadowy figure went straight to the very back of the library, where almost no one ever went. Most of his people were long abed, and those who weren't, were about their duties, not roaming the library.

He'd thought it might be a spy, or an enemy. Though he wasn't in any major feuds, there were always those who wanted to claim his lands. And of course, there was the matter of Clan Ranald, and his agreement to aid Laird MacLean. He wouldn't condemn his own people to ride in the wild storms they'd dealt with the past few days, but that didn't mean someone hadn't followed Lyla, and snuck into the castle under the cover of the storm.

It was that concern that had made him pounce on the figure without warning, only to find himself staring at a hazy-eyed, very confused young woman who was a guest in his home.

Daemon pulled back and helped Lyla into a sitting position. "Are ye all right?"

"Aye. Just startled, and a wee bit winded." She still seemed a bit dazed, clutching the book tightly to her abdomen. She gave him a half-hearted glare. "I wasnae expecting someone tae jump on me out o' naewhere."

Daemon snorted. "I wasnae expecting tae find someone entering the library in the dead o' night, either. Much less wandering all the way back intae this section. I thought ye were an intruder." He eyed the shelves she'd been sitting in front of. He knew what books were stored here, but he'd have expected to find Ryan or one of the guards without a lass back here, not a young woman like Lyla. "What were ye doing in this section o' the library? ‘Tis nae an area that sees much use."

To his surprise her color darkened, cheeks flushing as she looked away from him. "I was... well... I... I couldnae sleep... and I…"

It amused him to see the normally spirited young woman so flustered, even as it confused him. Then he took a closer look at the book in her arms, and the state of her face and her attire.

There was a shawl on the floor beside her, where she'd clearly laid it aside at some point, but Lyla herself was only clad in a lightweight slippers and a thin nightdress. A very thin nightdress, which showed the contours of her figure quite well in the fire light. The book had also pressed her bosom upward, allowing him to see the hardened peaks of her breasts very clearly.

The flushed cheeks took on a whole new meaning, and Daemon felt his eyes widening and his groin tightening in response. His manhood stirred, and feelings he hadn't experienced since Rowan's passing ignited in his gut.

He looked away quickly, appalled that he should experience such stirrings with Lyla, of all people. He coughed to cover the reaction, then bent and grabbed her shawl to wrap it around her shoulders and cover her chest. "I see. Some reading material then? And how did ye like it?"

Lyla's flush bid fair to set her hair alight. She gulped. "I... well... 'tis different... and I... there's things…"

Daemon chuckled at her discomfort. "All right. I'll stop teasing ye." He helped her off the floor. "But how on earth did ye ken these books were here? ‘Tis nae a section I can see Cai pointing ye toward."

"Well, I was... I was looking... the other day, Alyn and I... we were looking fer something tae read. She happened tae mention… that is, she was warning me…" Her blush deepened, and her words stuttered to a halt, and the last sentence emerged in barely audible muttering. "I was curious."

"O' course ye were." He noticed that she was still breathing fast, still far too flustered, when she should have been calming down. He reached out and took her shoulders gently. "Easy lass, breathe deep. Ye're all right, and there's nae trouble."

Lyla closed her eyes and breathed. Her cheeks were still rosy when she opened them, but her expression was calmer and her breathing was steady. "I was caught up in what I was reading, and between that and being pounced on out o' the dark – ‘twas a bit much fer me nerves tae handle."

"Understandable. If I'd kent it was ye, I wouldnae have startled ye like that." He glanced at the book, and looked back in time to see a chagrined look on her face. "Ye dinnae have tae be embarrassed or ashamed, or afraid I'll lecture ye on yer choice o' reading material. I'm nae yer faither, and ‘tis nae any o' me business what ye read or dinnae read. Just put the book back where ye found it when ye're finished."

She still looked discomforted, so he stood and stretched, before taking a tome off the shelf without looking. Lyla blinked, and he smiled at her. "Ye didnae think I happened upon ye by accident, did ye? I was looking fer something tae read afore bed when I saw yer light." Hopefully, she'd never realize he was lying through his teeth, or that he never read these sorts of books. He'd never wanted or needed to.

Lyla nodded as she rose to her feet, and he saw her open her mouth, before she clearly thought better of it. He sighed. "What is it?"

She swallowed hard, then looked at the book in her arms. "What I was reading, they were talking about things... about men and women doing things... together…" Her flush deepened once again, but she continued. "I couldnae believe the things they were describing could be real. Is marriage like these stories? In the bed chamber, I mean."

Daemon stared at her, and couldn't think of a thing to say.