Chapter Seven
Kenzie sat beside Gwen in the library, Braxton standing behind them, while Ben stood before the fire, hips spread, and arms folded over a muscular chest, barely hidden by the shirt that he wore.
She swallowed. Was he doing some kind of exercise regime that she didn’t know about? Maybe he’d been helping with the chores about the estate and had buffed up that way, but wow, he was big.
And looking pretty nice to the eye. Too nice in fact. Kenzie caught Ben’s gaze and her stomach tightened at the raw hunger she read in his eyes. How was it he could look at a woman in such a way and think no one would notice? She cast Gwen a glance and was met with a raised brow. Kenzie sat up, clasping her hands in her lap, and fought to control her wayward mind.
“Are ye going to ask me what it is ye want? As much as I love standing before ye all and being the object of Kenzie’s interest, I do wish to go for a ride.”
“I beg your pardon,” Kenzie said, her face flaming.
“What?” Ben asked, a devilish grin lifting his lips, which only reminded Kenzie how damn gorgeous he was. “You weren’t looking at me?”
“No, I was not,” she stated, beyond mortified at being called out.
Braxton cleared his throat. “Since you’re still not well enough to travel back to Castle Ross, we thought ye may wish to bring Alasdair here, to stay with us while you recuperate from ye illness.”
Ben ran a hand through his hair, leaving it on end. “Oh aye, is that all? I thought ye were about to berate me for kissing Kenzie last eve.”
“You kissed Kenzie?” Braxton rounded the settee, and Gwen stood quickly, clasping her husband’s arm.
“It was hardly a kiss, Ben. More like a chaste peck,” Kenzie said, shaking her head.
“I’m inclined to think of it as a taste of better things to come.”
“’Tis nothing to worry about, Braxton. Do not forget that Kenzie is an adult and able to make her own choices, even if ye may not agree with them.”
Braxton glowered at Ben, who merely grinned in return. “I don’t agree with that choice.”
Kenzie didn’t miss the flicker of pain that crossed Ben’s visage, before he laughed it off. “Dinna get bothered by it, Braxton, my old friend. It was only a little kiss and nothing remarkable. I’ll not be pursuing Kenzie if that is ye concern. I’m merely teasing.”
Kenzie stood there, stunned into silence. Had he really just said her kiss was unremarkable? What the hell! “Well, I wasn’t going to be sharing anymore kisses anyway, so it doesn’t bother me at all, should you not pursue anything further with me.”
Ben’s eyes narrowed on her, his gaze dipping to her lips. She glared back, ridiculously affronted. Not that she cared one bit that he didn’t like her in that way. Even if his kiss teased at something so much better… Actually, really great if she was being honest, but she wouldn’t give him the pleasure of seeing how annoyed his rebuttal made her.
“So, will ye bring Alasdair back here? We’d so love to meet your boy.” Gwen let go of Braxton and joined Ben at the hearth, taking his hand. “It’ll be good for him to be here, to be around a clan that will love him as much as his own.”
Ben’s features softened at Gwen’s words and an odd unnerving feeling settled in the pit of Kenzie’s stomach. Was she jealous of Gwen? Just the thought of such a thing was unreasonable. Gwen was happily married to Braxton and that was an end to it. She was merely being kind and persuasive to an old friend. And Kenzie was being an idiot.
“It’s settled then,” Braxton said, walking over to the desk and pulling out a piece of parchment and laying it on the dark wooden surface. “Write to ye clan and have the boy sent here immediately. We’ll hold a feast, celebrating the birth of the future Laird of Ross.” Braxton turned to Gwen. “Mayhap ye brother would wish to attend. I’m sure Abby would welcome a visit to see the new estate and with Kenzie being here, ’tis an extra boon.”
Gwen clapped her hands, her face wreathed in smiles. “Och, it sounds a fabulous idea, Braxton. We should have thought of it sooner.”
Kenzie smiled at their joy and stole a look at Ben who also seemed pleased by the idea but maybe a little more guarded than her ancestors were. Ben walked over to the desk and sat, writing out the missive as Braxton and Gwen discussed details of the feast and what other families they would invite.
With nothing else to do, Kenzie sat on the settee, watching the flames in the grate lick at the wood. The sound of the reed pen scratching over the parchment filled the room after Gwen and Braxton left them alone in the library. If she were back home in her own time, she would flick on the television and watch a movie or something, anything to chase the boredom away. And yet how could anyone be bored here? It was like living in her own period movie. With real-life warriors and grand estates, families that held great power surrounded by those who probably wished for some of that power themselves.
“Why do they call you Black Ben?” In all her study of the man it had never been explained why he was nicknamed thus. She turned in her chair to see him folding the missive and putting it aside.
“My hair.”
Not for the first time, she noticed his dark locks. In fact, Ben had the features of a Spaniard more than a Scotsman, but still it was odd that his name was solely due to his hair color. “Truly? That’s it?”
He laughed and joined her on the chair, Kenzie shuffled over a little, not wanting him to get any ideas now that they were alone since he didn’t find her kisses remarkable…
“Aye, that’s it. I was always recognizable at any skirmish or clan gathering due to my hair. Someone, I forget who, named me Black Ben, and it stuck. I’m also the best longbow shot in all of Scotland, and possibly England, as well, but ’tis my hair that I’m known by.
Without thinking, Kenzie reached out and touched his dark locks, the color a deep shade of ebony and as black as the night sky. He was forbidden to her, a man she shouldn’t dally with. A Scottish legend with a mysterious story. He’d always fascinated her and here he was before her, looking at her as if he wished to devour her whole.
Kenzie tightened her grip on his hair, pulling him toward her. Ben mumbled something in Gaelic she couldn’t understand before yanking her against his chest and kissing her with a force that left her breathless.
Their teeth smashed together before he bit her bottom lip, soothing it immediately with his tongue. It was so dirty and hot, Kenzie was totally out of her depth. Yes, she’d kissed men before, quite a few, in fact, but never anybody like this. Ben’s kisses left her reeling for purchase on ground as slippery as the snow atop the Highland mountains.
“Are ye sure you should be kissing me, lass? Will not Braxton disapprove?”
“I don’t require anyone to give me permission to kiss who I want. And maybe you shouldn’t be kissing me, since I’m so unremarkable.”
He took her lips again and this time a moan pushed past her lips. With her busy life, she’d missed out on the pleasure of kissing.
“I lied. Ye are more than remarkable, lass.” Ben winked, and desire flowed through her at his words. Silly for a modern woman to worry about what this Highlander from the seventeenth century thought, but for some strange reason, Kenzie wanted him to like her.
She kissed him hard, taking everything he was willing to give her while they were alone.
“Ye should let me kiss ye every day.”
Kenzie couldn’t agree more. One could drown in his stormy blue eyes. “Maybe I will.” Of course I will!
He grinned. “Aye, ye will.”
A servant carrying a bucket came into the room and stumbled to a stop. Unable to meet the servant’s eye, Kenzie jumped up and stepped away. Ben, on the other hand, simply lounged back in the chair, as if being caught in such a position by household staff was a common occurrence.
Kenzie wasn’t sure if she should be worried by that fact or take her cue from him. But, this wasn’t her home, it was Gwen and Braxton’s, and she ought to be more respecting of them and their lifestyle.
Without a word, Kenzie left the room, walking straight to her own. If she were to stay in this time, she needed to stay away from Ben, at least in the sexual way. No matter how invigorating his kisses were, he wasn’t for her to play with.
…
Ben watched Kenzie leave the room until she was out of sight. The servant left, too, which was just as well, or he would’ve been tempted to glare at the lass for interrupting what had been turning into a delightful afternoon.
For weeks he’d been without the comfort only a woman could bring, but as much as it chafed to admit it, after meeting Kenzie, he hadn’t wanted anyone else to warm his bed. He wanted her, and it was damn frustrating.
Kenzie was not the kind of lass who’d want to stay in this time. Nor would she do well as a lady of a great house such as his own. The time here was not for the faint of heart, and the day-to-day life in a castle was not easy. There was the staff to run, and ensure his clansmen were kept fed and housed. Tally the books and keep the home up. Aline had done a superb job as his wife, but the lass had been brought up to do such things. Kenzie, on the other hand, had not.
A rap at the door was followed by another servant who held out a missive. “This just arrived, Laird Ross.”
Ben thanked the lad and broke the seal, scanning the letter quickly. It was from his manservant and friend who was looking after his lands in his absence. His mention of Aline’s father visiting, and the prolonged time he’d spent with Ben’s son made the hair on the back of his neck rise.
What was the man trying to tell him by visiting his lad when he himself was away? Unease trickled down his spine, and he stood, striding quickly toward the foyer. He ran into Braxton on his way to find his servant to ready his departure without delay.
“Is all well, Ben?” Braxton asked, halting his steps.
“Aline’s father has been at Castle Ross. I must return. His visit during my absence is a warning I’m not likely to ignore. I must go.” He stepped away, but Braxton pulled him to a stop.
“Now? But we were about to celebrate the arrival of Kenzie and your son. Surely, if you brought ye boy to stay here with us, there is naught that Clan Grant can do.”
It was true, Braxton and Gwen lived under the protection of Clan Macleod. ’Twould be a fool indeed who tried to cause trouble here, but Castle Ross was isolated, and with his son there alone with only the servants as protection, Ben had left him in a vulnerable position. There was also little chance of Clan Grant allowing the lad to travel here in the first place. Not if they wished Alasdair to stay with them; they would not see him anywhere but where he was right now.
He swore, running a hand through his hair. He’d been a selfish bastard for leaving the boy not long after his birth. No matter how far he traveled from his lands, the memory of Aline and her unbearable sweetness while she’d lain dying wrecked his mind even now.
It was his fault she’d died. To prove to her that his marrying her was due to his affection, the more time he spent with her, the more he actually came to like the lass, and somehow, in the time that they were married, he had come to care for her deeply.
“I cannot risk my son or lands. I must go.”
“Aye,” Braxton said, clasping him on his shoulder. “I’ll see that ye servant is notified and you’re on ye way by daybreak.”
“No, I must leave now.” He started toward the stairs. “I’ll have a cart sent to gather the remainder of my possessions, which are few, but I’ll go by horseback tonight. If I can trouble ye for one of ye best fighting men, I would be greatly appreciative.”
“Anything,” Braxton said without hesitation. “I’ll have James sent for. He’s my best swordsman.”
Ben thanked him and started up the stairs. He stopped after two steps and turned to face Braxton. “Will yet tell Kenzie and Gwen of my parting? I dinna want to say goodbye. I’ve never been vera good at it.” His goodbye with Aline had left him with many unsaid words. How he was sorry that he’d married her under false pretenses. That he feared she’d guessed his deception but tried to make the best of a situation that wasn’t what she’d hoped for. That he’d made her have his son, which, in turn, had killed her. Goodbyes were never easy, and Ben now avoided them like the pox.
Understanding dawned in Braxton’s eyes. “I can do that for ye. I’ll also have ye horse ready to depart within the next half hour.”
“Thank ye, Braxton. You’re a good man.” One of the best, in fact. It was no surprise why Aedan Macleod had allowed the man to marry his sister.
It didn’t take Ben long to put the few articles he’d traveled with together into a sack. Going about the room and checking he had everything that he needed for the journey home; he doubted a cart would be required, after all. He left the room and strode down the hall, slowing his steps as he passed Kenzie’s quarters. No feminine chatter came from behind the door and he wondered if she were in there, reading or looking out over the estate’s lands. Was she lying on her bed, dreaming of him…?
He cursed himself as a damn fool for acting like a green lad. It was not like he’d never met a lass before who’d made the blood in his veins burn. So soon after the death of his wife, he didn’t need to become embroiled with some meddling woman from the future who had a tongue as sharp as his blade. There were a few lasses at his own estate that would scratch the itch that annoyed him daily. He would seek them out as soon as he returned home.
Another lie. He would do no such thing.
But first he had to deal with his deceased wife’s clan and make perfectly clear that they had better keep off his lands unless he was present. Ben could understand that after the death of Aline they harbored anger and resentment toward him, but he could not allow them to take what was his.