Chapter Nine
The following day after lunch, Abby found a secluded, vacant plot of land far enough from the castle so not to be found, and started to practice with the bow and arrow. She didn’t like anything getting the better of her—a trait she’d picked up as a young child—and it seemed archery was proving difficult.
She loaded the arrow into the bow and tried to hit the large oak about fifteen feet away. Again, the arrow refused to behave and sit against the string. She swore, took a deep breath, and tried again.
“Are ye having trouble, lass? Do ye need help?”
Abby turned and narrowed her eyes on the laird, cursing his timing to see how useless she was at this sport. Typical of her luck. He’d probably lord it over her that he could do archery standing on his head. “No. I’m fine thank you. You don’t have to stay.”
He raised his brow, but didn’t turn to go. Her gaze raked his form, his chiselled cheeks and strong jaw drew her eyes to his mouth. She’d be a liar if she said his presence or his body didn’t affect her.
Aedan MacLeod was hot, and probably knew it. He cocked his head to the side and grinned. She glared back. Oh yes, he knew he was good-looking and no doubt thought she’d fall under his spell as well as any other.
Fat chance.
Liar…
“Are ye alright, lass? Ye seem to be staring at me.” He looked himself over, touching his cheeks as if to check for food or something. “Do I have some of me lunch on my face?”
“Not at all. I’m just stunned silent by the honor of your presence.”
He shook his head. “You’re very good at sarcasm, but it still doesn’t help when you’re as good as useless with an arrow.” He walked toward her, reaching for the bow. “Here, let me show ye.”
She sighed as he turned to stand behind her. His arms came around her body, and he helped her hold the bow and arrow in the correct position. Awareness swamped her, his heat and scent washed over her like a rain shower. She ground her teeth and tried to concentrate, but it was almost impossible.
“If ye hold it slightly raised, it’ll be less likely to hit the ground when you fire. And always keep your eye on the target, forget everything about ye, and focus.”
His whispered words grazed her cheek, and her breath stuck in her lungs. He held her outstretched arm, his large hand covered hers, and kept it locked about the wood of the bow. Heat coursed up her neck, and she cursed her inability to stay unflustered by him.
Focus my ass. She’d be lucky not to go cross-eyed with desire.
She wanted to pull away, to step away, but her pride wouldn’t allow it. She couldn’t let him know he affected her. He was just a guy. No different from any of the others she’d met.
What a load of crap. He did affect her and deliciously so. Even now, with his other hand helping her pull the string back, keeping the arrow hard against the bow’s wood, all she could think about was his chest hard up against her spine, the deep timbre of his voice, soothing, coaxing…
“Let go, lass,” he said faintly.
The words sounded like a double entendre but she did as he advised and watched in amazement as the arrow sailed clearly through the air and imbedded itself into the tree. She stepped out of his hold, laughing. “Oh my gosh. I did it.” She turned and smiled. At his intense stare, her smile slipped a little. “Thank you for helping me. You seem to know what you’re doing.”
He shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of years to learn.” He walked over to the tree and collected the arrow. “Try again,” he said, handing it to her. “Let’s see if you can do it on your own.”
Abby followed his previous instruction, and Aedan, true to his word, tweaked her stance, her hold here and there, but allowed her to do it herself. That she missed the tree entirely wasn’t so bad since she hit a small one a little farther away. “Maybe I’ll enter the archery competition and best all the lasses vying for your hand.”
He laughed, collecting the arrow again for her. “Does that mean you’re going to vie for my hand? You’re comely enough. You need to learn your place and a few manners, and then you’d be a contender.”
“Are you serious?” Abby rolled her eyes. “As much as I’ve enjoyed you teaching me this afternoon, and being kind…sort of, I’m not doing this to earn your favor. And I’ll certainly never ‘learn my place’ to gain a husband. Do you have any idea how annoying it is to hear a man speak about a woman in such a way?”
“’Tis the natural way of things. I don’t understand why you’re so upset.” He crossed his arms, pulling her gaze to them.
Damn it. She tore her attention back to his face and focused on his eyes. “You’re putting women in a box. Making them think they’ll never be anything other than a servant who’s taken a vow and married a man.” She paused, firing off another arrow, hitting the oak dead center. “Just imagine if my only need of you was sexual.”
Abby walked up to him, walking her fingers up his chest before gliding her hand over his skin. A muscle worked in his jaw, and she half smiled. “How would you feel if you wanted to marry me because you loved me? That you couldn’t imagine your life without me, and I turned around and said, ‘I’m sorry, I may have sex with you, but there’ll never be any emotions involved. You have a job to perform and you better do it good, or I’ll find someone else who can.”
He watched her quietly for a moment, before sighing. “Are ye trying to tell me, lass, you’d like me to tup ye?”
“What? No!” she said, stepping away and laughing in spite of herself. “I’m trying to explain to you how making your future wife go up against other women is foolish, not to mention, mean. You should pick a wife with your heart, not your head.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because I fear your head is beneath your kilt at the moment, and not thinking clearly.” She paused. “You’re going to be with this woman for a long time. There has to be affection, because the lust will wane.”
“I cannot marry a simpleton who’s good in my bed but has nothing between her ears. My wife must be accomplished in all things.”
“And I understand that. I do. But don’t marry a perception of what you think is perfect, marry the perfect girl for you. I know you’re a laird, and with that comes certain obligations and standards that are expected. But most of the time you’re here, with your people, and no one is watching. And if you don’t like your perfect wife, what are you left with? Do you see where I’m coming from?”
Aedan scooped up the spare arrows near her feet, silent for a moment. “Aye, I see yer point,” he said. “But such thoughts are foreign to me. ’Tis not how it’s done, not the way I was brought up to think. If we’re to work together, and make what little time ye have here peaceful at all between us, ye must concede to my way of thinking as well.”
“That’s a fair point, and I promise I’ll try.” She asked for an arrow and took another shot. It embedded itself into the ground. “Why do you need to have a wife from one of these visiting clans, anyway? From what I’ve seen of your people and your home, you don’t seem to be low in coin. Everyone seems well fed and looked after.”
He sat down on the ground beneath a nearby tree and watched her. “I’ll need many men to take down the O’Cain clan. The horrors they put Jinny through I dinna even want to imagine. A strong marriage that will unite two great homes is what’s required to succeed.”
Pain crossed his features, and she knew he was thinking of his sibling. “You feel guilty about it, don’t you?”
“Aye.” He nodded. “I do. Verra much so.”
“You cannot be held responsible for other people’s actions, Aedan. Whatever happened to your sister under the care of the O’Cains is their cross to bear. Their error of judgment. You were trying to gain peace. How would anyone know they would use your act of goodwill in an evil way?”
“I should not have bartered my sister. It was a mistake that’ll haunt me for the rest of my days.”
Abby came and sat beside him, leaning back on the tree as well. She looked out at the sheer beauty of his lands and sighed. In a lot of ways, the man beside her reminded her of David. A man with an ingrained need to protect others, risk his life and limb to keep those he loved safe. She pushed the thought aside, not wanting to remember how it had all ended, nor did she want to start having feelings for a man who could be killed at any moment. “You’re a good man, Aedan. If not a little pigheaded at times, but then, no one’s perfect.”
He laughed, and their gazes locked. A warm ache fluttered in her stomach, and she looked away, not liking her reaction to him when he was charming.
“Well,” he said, standing and pulling her up to join him. “Like I said before, should ye wish to compete for my hand, you’re welcome to it.”
She smiled; glad his words changed the tension in the air to one of ease. “Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t.”
“I’m betting ye won’t.”
Abby grabbed the bow and arrows, anything to distract her from his devilishly cute grin, and started toward the castle. “I think you’ll probably win that bet.”
They walked for a little time in silence before Aedan cleared his throat. “Abigail, lass, I’ve been meaning to ask ye for some time now, and since we’re alone, this may be the perfect time. I wanted to know about yer home. What yer life was like before coming here?”
Abby searched Aedan’s gaze and could see he was serious about the question. She thought about her home, of all the amazing things she’d had available to her: medicine, transport, living conditions, technology, and her college education.
She looked at the castle, a magnificent edifice beyond the trees they now walked beneath, knowing no two places could be farther apart, if they tried. “I suppose it’s a lot faster paced than how people here live. Everyone’s in a hurry to be somewhere, to do something. This, of course, is helped by the fact that people can travel around the world in twenty-four hours or so.”
“What of horses? Surely, they still exist?”
Abby laughed, nodding. “Of course they do, but the cart has been replaced by what we call vehicles, no horses required. People can travel by air, and yes, I do mean we can fly, but not literally.”
He looked at her as if she’d lost her mind, and she supposed should she be in his situation, she would’ve had a similar countenance. “Do you want to ask me anything?”
“You fly?”
She smiled. “They’re called airplanes, and they hold one- to three hundred passengers at a time, and yes, they fly, over mountains and oceans alike. I must admit, I’m not a huge fan of air travel, but it’s a lot quicker than walking or by boat.”
“But how? It doesn’t seem possible.” Aedan frowned, looking up at the wispy clouds. He had a handsome profile, and she smiled.
“The airplanes take off down the runway at a great speed, and their wings produce an upward force called lift, and they go up into the air. It’s hard to explain, and I’m not a scientist, but that’s the gist of it.” Abby accompanied her words with hand actions and he smirked.
“Let’s move on from the flying, it’s too bizarre to warrant thought.” Looking up at the sky, he continued, “So what else made up yer life?”
Abby didn’t want to tell him studying and her part-time work in a supermarket was what made up her life. The daily grind to earn enough money to pay her college school fees had felt like a noose about her neck sometimes, not the liberating career path she’d envisioned. And then, Aedan probably wouldn’t understand why women worked or were allowed to go to school. But, he did ask…
“I’m in school learning to become a museum curator. I’ve always loved history, and the stories behind beautiful paintings, or Roman sculptures, or a ring, or a bracelet. To look for items for a museum, catalogue and piece together their history, is everything I’ve ever wanted. Maybe it’s because I know very little about my family, having been raised in foster care…” At Aedan’s confused frown, she went on, “I was orphaned very young and lost my parents. Piecing together history, making sense of it and showing it to the world, is satisfying.”
“You’re a very fascinating woman, Abigail, lass.”
“Not really. I’m an ordinary woman in my time. Here, I may seem a little eccentric.”
“What about a husband or lover? Did ye have one of those in yer time? Please tell me my interfering sister didn’t pull ye away from yer family.”
Abigail laughed. “No, I have no husband.” Was that relief she noticed on Aedan’s face. Abby wondered at it before she said, “I did have a serious boyfriend, and before he was killed we spoke of marriage. But that’s over now, obviously.”
“I’m sorry for yer loss, lass. I’m sure, to have captured yer heart, he was a good man.”
Abigail met his gaze and read the sincerity behind his eyes. “He was a good guy.” But even after all the time she’d known David, never had her body reacted as it did right now, standing next to Aedan. Abby didn’t want to delve into what that meant, and she stopped as they came before the castle outer wall. “We’re back,” she said to change the subject.
“Aye, and if you’ll excuse me, I have some work to do before the evening meal. I thank ye for our chat today, lass. ’Tis always good to learn a little bit about people.”
“Very true.” Abby gestured for him to go, and unable to help herself, focused on his ass as he walked away. Yowzers, they don’t make men like that anymore, and if they did I’ve never seen one. How sad she had to travel back four hundred years to view a guy with such sensual attributes.
...
Abigail stood between Gwen and Aedan at the front of Castle Druiminn, as clan after clan arrived for the Highland Games. Each day there was a new arrival, and each introduction and explanation of who, what, where, when, and how she’d come to be here had taken a toll. Before the games had even begun, she was exhausted.
Her answers had become curt, with little embellishment to smooth over inquisitive noses. Aedan had pulled her aside and reminded her of their deal. It had annoyed her a little, but a deal was a deal. And she wasn’t one who went back on her word. Not to mention the fact that, as the days passed and a truce formed between them, her stomach had an unfortunate consequence of somersaulting whenever they spoke.
But he’d become a Scottish Neanderthal again in front of his Highland lairds, and all the softening emotions she had developed disappeared. At times, he tarnished her ideals of what all Scottish men of this era were like. Never again would she read a romance novel and think Scottish lairds were swoon-worthy men she’d love to sneak into her bed.
“We’re heading down to the field where the men are practicing the different events for the competition. If you would accompany me, I’m in need of your advice.”
Abby sighed. Not in the mood to help him pick his bride, especially one from Clan Grant, who were at the field already, going through their own preparations for the competition. “Can’t we talk at dinner? I’ve about had enough of listening to all the clans boast about who’s the strongest and who’s sure to win.”
He took her arm and placed it around his, and she ignored the thrum of awareness that coursed through her veins. Surely it was only because he was so vexing at times that she reacted to him. It couldn’t possibly be that she found him attractive. His mouth, which was smiling down at her, may be smooth and nice looking for a guy, but as soon as he opened it, she had a totally different reaction.
“You promised, and I’m going to hold ye to that promise. Now come,” he said, pulling her along.
Abby followed. They walked down a grassy bank, little stone steps buried into the side of the small hill that led to a large field. It looked like the Murray and Scott clans had also come down to practice, the men busy with whatever they thought would give them an advantage.
There was one consolation. The lack of clothing the men had on certainly made delectable viewing. Large shoulders rippled, their backs glossy from sweat, glistened in the sun. Well-built sword-wielding arms clapped each other on the shoulders in welcome, their smiling features making her wonder if she’d been too quick to dismiss all Highlanders as Neanderthals.
“Enjoying yourself?”
His hardened tone snapped her out of her perv fest, and she looked up at him. He was frowning down at her, the line between his brows quite severe. “Actually, I was. You didn’t tell me they were going to practice with only their skirts on.”
“They’re kilts.” The word squeezed through his teeth.
Abby laughed. “Whatever.” She chuckled and felt him stiffen. “Now, as for the women we’re supposed to be discussing, who is it exactly you want me to advise you on.”
He looked over to where a group of ladies stood, some giggling into their hands and looking away shyly from the men, while others openly ogled them. “She’s from Clan Murray. Her name is Mary. I saw you talking to her after dinner last eve. What was she like?”
Abby looked to where the girl stood and shrugged. “I like her. A lot. She isn’t a simpering idiot like the Grant lass.” She could feel him staring at her, and she tried to ignore it before the extended silence got the better of her. “What?”
“You don’t like Aline?”
“No, I don’t. She’s as cold as Loch Ness in winter.” A cool breeze picked up, and she cuddled into him, seeking his heat. “I may not like you very much, either, but anyone as a wife would be better than her.”
He huffed out a breath, half laugh, half scoff, and looked back toward the women. “What else did you find out about Mary?”
“She seems learned. Her brother recently married and would like her to become someone else’s problem. She let it slip that he’s low on money, something to do with a land dispute.”
“She said all that to you after one night?”
The look of awe on his face made her smile. “Well, of course. You did ask me to scope them out and that’s what I’ve been doing. If you take an interest in people, eventually they open up and start blabbering about all sorts of things.”
“You seem to be doing a great deal of chattering now. So your summarization seems correct.”
“You’re such an ass.”
He laughed and walked toward Mary, the first woman he’d shown an interest in. As he greeted her, it was all smiles and easy conversation. Abby stood back and watched how the women all simpered around the very handsome Laird MacLeod. And he really was particularly nice to look at in his kilt and sporran. Somehow the colors of red and blue only highlighted his captivating eyes.
Eyes that reflected merriment and enjoyment. She hoped he wasn’t playing a part, a part that would end as soon as he married. Aline pushed her way into the conversation and clasped his arm. Abby’s eyes narrowed, not missing the way the little minx rubbed her breast against his arm, or how Aedan looked down at her with something akin to shock…or was it desire…
Well, it was a dangerous game he was playing, and women, more often than not, didn’t play fair when marriage to a wealthy laird was on the table. She smiled. The poor man was almost being led to the slaughter, and by her, no less.
“I see ye found my favorite Highlander and placed him in the bonniest circle in the Highlands.” A large hand clapped her shoulder, and she stepped forward to stop herself from falling over. “I’ve never met ye before, but I’d like to. I’m Benjamin Ross from clan Ross. Most people call me Black Ben.”
Abby looked up to the towering form of muscle, long black hair, and huge biceps. She felt her mouth pop open. Never had she seen such a huge guy. “I’m Abigail Cross. A distant friend of Laird MacLeod and his sister.”
He smiled, showing teeth stained with red and in need of a good cleaning. What had he been eating?
“Sure ye are, lass.” He called to Aedan. “Hey, boy. You forgot to greet me like the good host you’re supposed to be.”
Aedan turned and came over to the man, hugging him tightly, both of them clapping each other on the backs. Abby joined the women and let the men have their reunion in private. They spoke animatedly, laughing and talking at the same time.
“I see ye met Black Ben, Laird of Ross. He’s the best longbow shot north of the Scottish border. Tower of a man, but just as kind as Aedan MacLeod. They were both under the tutelage of my father from clan Scot for a few years.”
Abby smiled at the young woman. “I’m Abigail Cross, by the way. I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name. I’ve met so many people these last few days.”
The woman smiled in turn. “I’m Mae. ’Tis lovely to meet ye, Abigail.”
Aedan met her gaze across the short distance, his eyes taking in her form while the other gentleman spoke and looked at her as well. Heat suffused her cheeks, and she looked back to Mae. “I noticed when I spoke to the Laird of Ross that his teeth are red. Why is that?”
The woman laughed, causing those close by to look at her with interest. “They’re not normally so, I would think he’s been partaking in too many Rowan berries. There are a few trees scattered around the castle. Surely you’ve seen them on your travels.”
“I must admit I have not.” Abby paused. “Are you looking forward to the games?”
“Aye, I am. Because the sooner they start the sooner they’ll be finished. I didna want to come here, but my brother, future Laird to Clan Scot, insisted.” The woman’s brow creased as her attention snapped to her brother, who had now joined Aedan and Black Ben.
“You can tell me to stop being nosy, but why didn’t you wish to come here?” For a woman of her age and living in this time, not to be interested in this type of entertainment and socializing was odd.
Mae cleared her throat. “My brother wants me to marry a man that I do not love when my heart has already been given to someone else. I will not be forced into marriage—by him, or anyone. I have promised myself to a good, kind, honorable man. I will not be swayed.”
Sympathy for the girl consumed Abby. The poor woman, living in a time where the men in her life could dictate to her, make her marry someone she neither knew nor cared for. She shook her head. Thank God times had changed for women in the twenty-first century. “I hope you can marry the man you love. If there is any way I could possibly help you, please let me know. I, too, would hate to have an arranged marriage.”
“Thank you,” Mae said, clearly astonished and relieved Abby had said what she did. “I will not forget your kindness.”
“You don’t owe me anything, truly. And I really don’t mean to be nosy, I don’t know anyone other than Gwen and Aedan, but I’m curious, who does your brother wish you to marry?” Maybe it was Aedan, and by at least knowing that she wasn’t interested in him she could advise him, in case he was looking at her for a potential wife.
“He’s from Clan Kirk. They’re not here, but we’re to travel home past their lands. My brother will break our journey for a day or two at their castle.” She shook her head. “He’s the worst of men. There are rumors the woman he was betrothed to disappeared. An English woman that no one past the border would care for, so easy to be rid of.”
“That’s terrible. Do you think he murdered her?”
“I don’t know, but I certainly don’t want to marry him and find out for myself how dangerous he is. I can’t believe my brother is even considering the alliance.”
“Maybe Aedan could speak to your brother and help sway him to see that such a marriage is not wise.”
Mae clasped her hand, squeezing it. “Would you do that for me? I would be eternally grateful. From the few times I’ve met the Laird Kirk, I’ve been left with a revulsion that has stuck with me for days. I do not like him, and I certainly couldn’t marry the man.”
“I will do whatever I can. I promise.”
At that time, Gwen joined them, letting them know luncheon was served up at the castle. Abby walked with Gwen and Mae and watched as Aedan and his friend Black Ben walked in front of them, their muscular thighs hers to look at.
She shouldn’t ogle Aedan. He wasn’t someone she should be looking at in any way. This wasn’t her time, nor were these the people she’d grown up with, hung around, or called friends. And although they were friendly, Gwen especially, and had tried to make her experience here as smooth as possible, it didn’t change the fact that she was in way over her head.
Aedan might be kind, a good laird, but medieval Scotland wasn’t for her. There was a reason why society had evolved over time, people lived longer and were increasingly intelligent. Who wanted to live with no access to medicine or die from trifling illnesses like colds? Social media, technology, and electricity were non-existent. Everything she knew, her entire way of life, was foreign here.
The thought of never having ice cream again, watching a chick flick on TV, or going out for drinks with the girls, was awful. Women in this time had no rights, in many cases were seen and not heard, and basically used as bartering tools between men, a fact of which she’d been made well aware. Not to mention, throwing all her years at college down the drain and never using the degree she had worked so hard for. No, it wasn’t an option.
Aedan bent over and her attention snapped once more to him. On the other hand, what harm was there in admiring the man’s form while she was here? He’d never know that she was taking in his strong legs and muscular arms that she imagined would flex nicely when leaning over someone in bed. She’d be a liar if she hadn’t thought about him in that way. Of what he’d look like thrusting into her, his intense eyes meeting her own at the crux of orgasm. Of what he’d sound like finding pleasure within her.
He laughed at something Black Ben said. There was certainly no doubt he had a definite charm, well, maybe not so much charm, but his body certainly had appeal.
Abby bit her lip to stop herself from laughing at her own thoughts. She was in a bizarre position, so it was only fair that she enjoy herself.
...
Aedan sat next to his oldest and closest friend Ben and broke a piece of bread apart. His time traveling houseguest sat next to Gwen and Mae from Clan Scott, her laughter continually pulling his attention toward her.
“Stop looking at the lass. The other women will become jealous.”
Aedan scoffed at Ben’s words, but did as his friend advised. After Ben’s arrival, he’d told him everything that had happened over the last few weeks. Ben was privy to Gwen’s abilities, but his hilarity over the current situation wasn’t helpful. “I was merely keeping watch to ensure she didn’t cause trouble or offend any of my clansman.”
“Leave her be. It’s yer sister’s fault she’s here in the first place. You ought to be nice to her. She could be of help, knowing what’s already transpired in history and all.”
Aedan frowned, having not thought of that possibility. His gaze, with a life of its own, sought her out again, and he wondered what she did know of the past. Of what was going to happen to his beloved Scotland over the next few hundred years. He wondered if she’d ever heard of Clan MacLeod and what had happened to his people and home.
“Now look what you’ve done, the lass from Clan Grant has spotted yer marked attention to Mistress Abigail. I don’t know why you’re always needing to cause trouble.”
Aedan laughed. “If any one of us causes trouble, ’tis you, not me.” He took a sip of wine, spooning more stew into his bowl. “Ach, there’s something about the lass that—” He paused, wondering if he should tell his friend how much the woman haunted his dreams. Worse was the fact he’d wake up, sweating and aching for her touch. Something told him with her life experiences, she’d be no lady when it came to sleeping with a man.
Perfect for tupping.
He shifted on his seat, his body hardening at the image the thought conjured in his mind. Damn it. He needed to find a wife, a suitable woman who’d do her duty, run the castle, and produce his children with little fuss. He needed to stop thinking about Abigail. He needed to stop wondering what the repercussions would be should he throw all his ideals—the determination to marry well, to a woman who could bring him more power—over the battlement’s walls. Blast it.
“She seems nice enough to me. Why not look to her for yer wife, since you’re so adamant you require one.”
Aedan ignored his friend’s mocking tone. “Aye, and ye need one as well, might I remind ye. Perhaps ye ought to look for a wife while yer here. It’s about time someone pulled ye into line to produce some lads of yer own.”
“Aye. Mayhap I’ll seduce yer lovely Abigail, if yer not going to. Ye wouldn’t mind, would ye? She’s not planning to stay, ’twould fill in me time well having her warm my bed at night.”
Every muscle in Aedan’s body hardened to stone. Just the thought of Ben and Abigail together caused a red haze to pass over his vision. He met his friend’s contemplative gaze and felt panic rise in his chest. Did he truly mean to seduce her? “Don’t touch the lass, Ben. We’ve been friends a long time, but she’s not for you. Do ye understand?”
Ben smirked and then grinned. “Aye, we’re friends, and I see how ’tis between you two, even if ye don’t. Not yet, at least. I’ll not touch your lass, I promise, but if you’re interested in the girl, you need to tell her. Now, while she’s here, before she’s not.”
“I’m not interested in her.” The words turned his gut for the lie they were. Deep down, even he realized that Abigail Cross was unlike any woman he’d ever known. Other than his sister, she was the first person he’d been honest with about his wishes for the future, his plans. She may have not agreed with how he’d set out to achieve those goals, but she was willing to help him, in any case.
In fact, her strong will and independence attracted him the most. She didn’t cower around him, wasn’t scared to share her opinion. So why do I want a wife who is the exact opposite…
He frowned, delving into his meal with zest, not wanting to debate why he’d think such a thing. He never used to. What he said and thought were always the same, but since Abigail’s arrival, everything had turned upside down.
Again, the word “trouble” floated through his mind.
“She’s a beautiful lass. She actually reminds me of someone, but I can’t think of who at the moment.”
Aedan looked at Abigail and then to Ben. “She’s never been here before, you know that. Why would ye think she reminds ye of someone?” He paused. “Have ye been talking to Gwen?”
Ben shrugged, taking a sip of mead. “I’d have to agree, but that’s not it. It’ll come to me, but like ye said, it matters little. We know she’s not native.”
No, she wasn’t. She stood up from across the table and bid the ladies good night. Aedan rubbed his jaw, the stubble on his chin reminding him to see his servant about a shave. Perhaps he ought to seek out his man before it became too late and the instruments wouldn’t be brought up to his room in the morning. “Excuse me for a moment.”
He stood and walked from the hall. Soft footfalls sounded ahead of him on the stairs, and he took them two at a time to catch up with Abigail. His eyes widened when he caught her pulling at the strings of her bodice before she’d even made her room.
“What are ye doing, lass? ’Tis hardly a private location.”
Abigail gasped and jumped against the wall, knocking her head. “Oww.” She rubbed her skull. “Don’t sneak up on me like that. You scared me half to death.”
Her bodice gapped, and the smooth, plump mounds at the top of her breasts were visible. He swallowed and shut his eyes, willing the vision to disappear from view, only to be bombarded with the reminder in his mind sight. He forced his eyes to reopen. “I apologize,” he said, meeting her gaze and holding his attention there and not lower on her person. “I wanted to catch my servant before it was too late. He’s old, I don’t use him at night normally.”
She started up the stairs again. “Well, good night then.”
Aedan fisted his hands. “Did ye find out anything interesting with the lasses today? Anyone appropriate that may be suited to be my bride?”
She came down the stairs and stood on the one up from him, placing her at eye level. He wanted to clasp her hips, pull her against him, do a lot of things he shouldn’t want to do.
“I did. I met Mae from Clan Scott today. She’s sweet, but unfortunately in love with someone else, so you’ll have to content yourself to being her friend only. Actually, her brother wants her to marry someone she’s not fond of, and we’ll need to discuss this at another time.”
He ran a hand through his hair, the smell of jasmine wafting from Abigail’s skin. Hell, she smelled sweet. “Aye, well that’s a pity, but I didn’t much like her openness and straightforward manner.”
“What do you mean?” She was frowning at him again, the action only making her more tempting.
“Mae Scott is very opinionated. I doubt such a woman would raise the amorous feelings you’re so adamant I use when choosing a wife.” Aedan didn’t know why he was teasing the lass so. Did he want her to react to him, to chastise him, remind him he was among the living but letting life pass him by?
He never used to be so dull. When he was a child he would’ve been in the thick of things, ready to do battle and protect his own. What a fool he’d been.
Inheriting the land, being Laird MacLeod, was not a light burden to carry. He’d sworn on his father’s grave to bring order, rules, and peace throughout his lands. That he would never allow the threat of others to impact his clan’s people, if he could help it. A laird guarded with his trust, guarded with his heart and home, and never allowed anything to threaten that peace.
And he’d lived by that decree to this day. Right up to the moment Abigail Cross had entered his life and brought nothing but chaos to his secure, regimented world.
She placed her hands on her hips, the action lifting her breasts closer to the top of her gaping gown. “That’s it, from now on, whatever stupid thoughts are flying about in that brain of yours must stop. How are you going to know if you have feelings for a woman if you don’t even talk to her, have fun, learn to be their friend and confidant? Never mind kissing the girl to see if you enjoy it.”
“So now you want me to kiss all the women I think could be a suitable bride? I don’t want to be married to all of them.” Not that this would occur, if he was careful, but still, kissing a lass when one was a laird wasn’t as easy at Abigail seemed to think. Many clans would demand a handfasting ceremony without delay.
“Do you even know how to kiss?” Her gaze flicked to his lips and his body tensed. “Have you ever kissed a woman? And I mean, really kissed her, as if she was the world to you?”
“Don’t be daft, woman. Of course I’ve kissed a lass, but had I kissed her like that I would be married already.” He’d even enjoyed the action a time or two, especially with the kitchen wenches who were more than willing and wanted no promises in return.
“And when you kiss, do you allow yourself to take pleasure in it? Do you let that stoic character of yours relax, and fall into the moment with abandonment?”
He raised his brow. “Are you going to start spouting poetry next?”
Her hands came up and lay on his shoulders. Her touch burned through his tunic, and he fought not to give in to his desire, the fire that blazed in his gut threatened to consume him.
Her fingers glided into his hair, pulling him close. Her lips were a lean away, their breathing intertwined like the moon and stars in the night sky.
“If I started reading poetry would you listen to me?”
He clasped her hips, unable to keep his hands off her. She didn’t pull away, or start at his touch, if anything she came closer, teasing him with the notion of tasting her. Of kissing her.
“Perhaps,” he said, losing the point of their conversation.
“And if I kissed you, Aedan MacLeod, do you think you’d enjoy it? Or are you scared you’ll suffer from that terrible, scary notion called regard for the wrong woman for your perfect plans.”
She was teasing him, making fun of his rules and regulations, but as her tongue came out and wet her pink, soft bottom lip, all he wanted was to devour her, damn if she didn’t care for it. “Shall we find out?”
Their gazes locked, and he could see the excitement and determination in her golden brown eyes. Then their lips touched.
The lightest melding of mouths, a brush, no harder than a flutter of a feather. He stood motionless for a moment, completely shocked to his core by what her miniscule touch did to him.
A hunger he’d never known roared inside. A hunger that was no longer willing to be denied. He brought his hand up around her nape, the skin on the back of her neck soft and smooth, and pulled her mouth hard against his.
He angled her head and deepened the kiss. She gasped, and he used the advantage to slide his tongue against hers. Desire exploded through his veins, hardening every ounce of his being. He kissed her long and deep, the feelings, the emotion her kiss ignited in him addictive and new.
Aedan knew in that moment, when she kissed him back with as much force, with as much need and desperation, that he wanted her. Only her.
They didn’t move, but kissed to the point of madness. Both of them clinging to each other, a mating of mouths, with small bites that were driving him insane.
Where had she come from? Well, he knew where, but by God, how was he to survive her time here when after tonight everything would change? One kiss would never be enough. He wanted more. Much more.
He tore away and stepped back, giving them space. She swayed and caught the small stone railing on the wall to steady herself. Her lips were wet, swollen, and red from his kiss.
But he couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think, for that matter. It was all about that kiss, and the woman in front of him who’d proven how much trouble she was going to be.
“See, Aedan? When you give yourself up to the act, it can be quite fun. Nothing to it. I’m sure if you kiss the woman you find yourself wanting as your wife, just like you kissed me, you’ll be married in no time.”
Her dismissal of what they’d shared irked, and he narrowed his eyes. “Aye, thank ye, Abigail. I’ll be sure to give ye a full account when I do.”
“You do that,” she said, turning about and walking up the stairs and out of sight.
Aedan leaned against the wall, the cold stone doing little to diminish the fire burning inside him. He wanted to follow her, tempt her into his bed so the need, the want of her, was sated.
But he didn’t. Instead, he turned and walked back down the way he’d come, needing the company of his clan and old friends to distract him from seducing a woman who had no part in his future.
Abigail Cross was not for him. Not in this life or the next.