THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

scrubbing and blotting, she again faced him, this time with a look of righteous indignation. “Are you quite through?” she asked.
    He nodded, still not trusting his voice.
    “Good,” she huffed. “We should go down stairs and have something to eat. I’m hungry.”
    While she rooted under the bed like a ferret for something, he struggled with his demons and finally managed, “Beth, ‘twill be brought in forthwith.”
      “Oh?” She appeared more startled than pleased. “But...I need to see Rachael.”
      “Ye may speak with her come morn’, lass. She isna goin’ away.” He grinned when she blanched, and her shoes dropped to the floor with a thud.
      “Oh.”
      Why did she suddenly look like he was about to consume her for sup? Had she been told? He approached her and she warily backed away.
    When he had her cornered between the bed and the wall, he slowly reached for the pins holding her hair atop her head. He preferred her hair loose, softly framing her face.
    As her braids fell into his hands she stuttered, “Are you sure...sure you don’t want to go downstairs?” She placed a hand on his chest. “We really should. The food will be warmer.” 
    “The food will be warm enough here.” He ran his fingers through her thick braids, loosening her silken hair until it fell into soft waves. “Your hair is a bonnie shade, like chestnuts.”
    She swallowed, eyes locked on his face.
    He ran a finger down her cheek, remaining silent as her color began to rise. When it settled on a sunset vermilion, he whispered, “Yer skin is soft, lady, like a lamb’s ear or a rose petal.”
    She ducked her chin and looked away, exposing her neck to his perusal. Not bad, sleek and long. He brushed his lips against her golden skin just as a knock came to the door.
    She immediately squeaked, “I’ll get that!”
    He stayed her with a hand. “No need.” As her eyes grew wide, he called, “Enter.”
    He kept an arm around her waist and guided her toward the table the two serving lasses loaded with every delicacy his pantry had to offer. When the lasses began to leave, his wife’s hungry gaze followed them to the door.
    Oh, aye, she knew only too well what was afoot.
    When the door closed, he motioned toward one of the chairs before the fireplace. “Please sit.”
    She settled, looking more than a wee bit pensive. Thinking it would calm her, he served, depositing moderate portions of everything into her trencher before loading his own. He then poured generous amounts of his finest wine in both their goblets.
    She sniffed the goblet. “I didn’t know you had wine.”
    “’Tis saved for special occasions.” He’d been told she would not consume ale. Wanting her a bit tipsy, he was not about to serve her the boiled water she preferred. He spoke amiably about his day as he ate, and she downed half a horn of wine and poked at her food.
    “I thought ye hungry, lass.”
    “Huh?” She looked up from her trencher and mustered a wee smile. “Oh. I guess my hunger passed.”
    No doubt, when ye realized I wasna about to let ye escape .
    He refilled her elk horn goblet. “Do ye find the solar to yer liking?”
    She nodded. “But it must be cold in winter. Have you thought of putting in glass?”
    “Aye, someday all will be glazed, but fear not the winter cold.” He grinned. “I am a warm soul.”
    “Ah.” She licked her lips and fiddled with her food again.
    After a moment she said, “Where I come from couples—-men and women—-date, get to know each other before they...” She bit into her bottom lip and chewed.
    “Tup,” he offered, trying to suppress a grin. For a widow she was verra shy.
    “Ya, ‘tup’ is a good word.” She took another healthy swallow of wine. “You see, my people like to feel comfortable with one another. People don’t just jump into bed together...immediately.” When he raised a disbelieving brow, she amended, “Well, okay, some do, but it’s not the right way. Do you see-—ken—what I mean?”
    “Aye.”
    “Thank heaven we got that straightened out.” She expelled a great whoosh of air and picked up her knife. “I knew, if given an explanation, you’d understand.”
    He waited until she’d eaten a couple of mouthfuls before saying, “Tell me yer way, my lady.”
    “My way?”
    “Aye, yer way of a man kenning a woman.” He had to find out quickly. The priest would be entering the secret passage and have his eye pressed to the spy hole as soon as he called