Aileas knew she shouldn’t let herself be distracted or get caught up in anybody. She was here for a reason. She’d come back from the sea, abandoning her life on the water for a purpose. She had returned to Sowkirk to mete out her vengeance and take back what was hers by birthright. And she knew that was the only task she should be focused on. The only thing that should be occupying her mind and heart. It was the only thing that should be consuming her.
But there was something about Luke she found compelling. Something that she couldn’t deny, not even to herself. The more time she spent talking with him, the more she found herself enjoying his company, and the more she found herself liking him. Aileas knew it was a dangerous game she was playing. She needed to stay focused on her task, but from the moment she caught him looking at her, she found herself staring back. She was curious about him and wanted to know more. And the more she talked to him, the more she wanted to know.
Of course, after having had more ale tonight than she’d had in a long time, she was feeling somewhat… tipsy. Aileas usually controlled herself better than this and never imbibed this way; she was rarely ever drunk. And while she wasn’t quite there yet, she was teetering on that edge. She knew her inhibitions had been lowered, and she wasn’t thinking clearly.
But at the moment, Aileas didn’t care. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d enjoyed a man’s company as much as she was enjoying Luke’s. And she found herself wanting to hold onto it for a little while longer.
“So tell me true,” she said. “Why were ye starin’ at me.”
A gentle smile touched his lips. “I wasnae starin’ at you.”
She arched her eyebrow at him and smiled. Luke chuckled and looked away, and Aileas was sure she saw color rising in his cheeks. She didn’t think he was the sort of many who would blush; he seemed like such a strong, hard man. She thought it was adorable and enjoyed seeing there were different facets to the man.
“Ye were,” she said, laughing.
He let out a long breath and took a long swallow of his drink. Luke sat back in his chair and stared at her for a moment.
“Truth?” he asked.
“Aye. Always,” she replied. “I always want thae truth.”
He took another drink and set the mug down, leaning forward on the table. Aileas saw that glint in his eye and a small smile tugging a corner of his mouth upward and felt her heart skip a beat.
“I’ve been in Sowkirk all me life, and I dinnae ken who ye are. I saw yer ship, dinnae recognize it, and I was curious,” he said. “But then… when I saw ye…”
His voice trailed off, and Aileas leaned forward, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She stared at him for a moment and could see him struggling with his words… and something more. What that was, she couldn’t say, but Aileas was watching his emotions warring upon his face. The one that shone the brightest, though, was his awkwardness, and Aileas couldn’t help but smile at that.
“When ye saw me… what?” she prompted.
He grinned and picked at a small splinter of wood on the table, seemingly unable to meet her eyes.
“When I saw ye, I thought ye were thae most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he finally said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I dinnae mean to stare, I just…”
His voice trailed off again, but it was hard to miss the sincerity in his voice. And this time, it was Aileas’ turn to blush. It was a strange sensation for her. Being around her crew - all of whom were men - for as long as she had, Aileas had forgotten what it was to be complimented, or to… blush. She had forgotten what it was to be in the company of a handsome, charming man and the butterflies it stirred up inside of her.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t laid with a man before; she’d known the pleasures of the flesh. Only a couple of times, but it had been a transactional thing for her. It wasn’t the grand sort of romantic experience the bards sang about. And it definitely had not been about love. It was more about curiosity on Aileas’s part.
But as Aileas gazed into Luke’s piercing green eyes, watched the way the fire from the hearth glittered in them, she knew what she was feeling wasn’t transactional. It wasn’t a mere itch that needed scratching. No, she knew what she was feeling was something altogether different, and it shifted something inside of her. It was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.
“You just what?” she asked, finding that she wanted him to finish his statement.
A gentle smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I just… I wanted tae kiss ye.”
Aileas looked away and blushed furiously, though she was not displeased with his sentiment. If anything, she liked it and found herself giggling like a young lass. They both drained the last of their drinks, and Aileas sat back in her seat. She looked out one of the windows and saw how high the moon had climbed in the sky while they’d sat together, a small frown playing across her lips. She knew she had much to do and needed some rest. Even still, she was enjoying Luke’s company so much, she was reluctant to go.
Luke looked at her, his gaze locked to hers, and Aileas felt herself being drawn into the depth of his eyes. She felt herself letting go, happily and willingly losing herself in them. But the knowledge of what she was doing there in the first place, along with what she needed to do, seeped in at the edges of her consciousness, pulling her away from the ledge.
“I should be gettin’ on home,” she said. “Or at least tae Dand’s place.”
Luke nodded, and together they stood up and left the tavern together. They were silent as they walked down the road, but the feeling of tension and anticipation remained between them. They turned a corner and walked down the alley that ran behind the tavern when Aileas’s desire overruled her common sense. She turned and pushed Luke up against the wall.
“What are ye-”
She cut off his words by pressing her mouth to his, and she felt herself melt against his firm, toned body. He slipped his tongue between her parted lips, swirling it languidly around her own. Aileas felt warmth blossom in her belly and start to spread outward. She pressed herself to him, reveling in the feel of his arms around her waist and his taut, corded muscles as she ran her hands up his arms and chest.
The warmth flowing through Aileas spread, and it wasn’t long before it consumed her. She felt a quiver and a slickness between her thighs that made her tremble as their tongues mingled and danced together in her mouth.
Daenae forget yer purpose. Yer reason. Daenae forget why yer back in Sowkirk, ye silly, besotted bampot.
Despite feeling as if her insides had been replaced by a quivering, molten jelly, desire coursing through every vein in her body, Aileas put her hands on Luke’s broad, hard chest and forced herself to take a step back. She looked into his eyes; her entire body still trembling with desire. With need.
But her mind intruded once more, forcing her to remember that she was here to kill the man who’d slain her parents and stolen her birthright. She was here for vengeance. Nothing more.
“I - I’m sorry, I cannae dae this,” she said.
Aileas turned and ran down the alley, tears stinging her eyes, her lips tingling with the memory of Luke’s kiss.
Chapter Four
Confusion and anger driving him, Luke drove his sword forward, looking for all the world like he wanted to skewer the man before him. The man got his sword up - if only just barely - to deflect the blow. It was a feint though, and before the other man knew it, Luke had spun around behind him and hit the man on the back of his head with the flat of his weapon.
“That hurt,” Conall complained.
“Ye’re dead,” Luke said.
“I was just gettin’ warm,” the other man grumbled.
He tried to tamp down the anger inside of him. He wasn’t truly angry. He was just… confused. Images of Alice floated through his mind. He saw her red hair and those sultry dark eyes. Recalled the feel of her soft, full lips against his and the hint of honey and apples from the ale that had been
on her breath and tongue.
And then he recalled the way she’d turned and run from him without an explanation. He’d enjoyed every second of his time with her and thought she had as well. He struggled through what had been a sleepless night trying to understand. But when the sun had crested the horizon, he’d been no closer to an answer.
Luke thought they’d actually bonded. That they had formed some sort of a connection over their hours together. The conversation had been lively and meaningful. It had been a very unexpected evening for both of them, but he’d believed they had enjoyed each other. And he was looking forward to spending more time with her… and then she’d run off.
He was frustrated. He didn’t know if it was something he’d done to make her run away. Had he been too bold? Too forward? Luke pushed the thought away the moment it entered his mind, rejecting it outright. It had been Alice who’d pushed him up against the wall and kissed him. She had started that. Not him.
“Oi! Ye gonna stand there lookin’ like a bleedin’ idiot all day?” Conall’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Or are ye goin’ tae dae some work today?”
Luke stepped back, putting a bit of distance between him and his partner. The other man spun around, using a two-handed grip on his sword to generate power. If the man connected with his head, Luke knew he could crack his skull wide open. With a growl, the man rushed straight for him. But Luke easily sidestepped the thrust that had been aimed at his heart.
He spun to his right before his attacker could recover, and he lashed out, slamming his sword into the man’s ribs. Conall grunted and doubled over as the breath left his lungs with a wheezing gasp. Luke smiled and smacked his partner on the backside with the flat of his wooden practice sword.
“Ye’re getting slower,” Luke said. “And ye’re dead again.”
“Piss off. I’m hungover.”
“Tis why ye’ll never be one of thae Wolves,” Luke chirped. “Ye’re too fond of yer drink.”
Conall, his oldest friend, stood up and grinned. “If ye had a wife and two little ‘uns like mine, ye’d drink a lot tae. Besides, bein’ a Wolf was never somethin’ I wanted anyway.”
They shared a laugh as Luke looked over to the soldier’s field. The steady crack of practice swords banging against one another as the warriors sparred filled the air around them. It was invigorating to Luke. He loved the feel of the sweat rolling off his body, the stiff, sore muscles earned from a hard day’s training, and the exhaustion afterward. He even loved the many nicks and bruises he received during his sparring sessions.
Most simply went through the motions. Most of them had no aspirations other than to be right where they were - part of Baron Begbie’s men at arms, earning enough to support their families and their drinking and gambling habits. Most were content with that life, given that their likelihood of ever actually going to war was slim. They were comfortable. Or as Luke liked to call it, complacent.
“Ye actually think ye’ve got a chance tae be a Wolf, eh?” Conall asked.
Luke nodded. “I know I will be.”
“Tis good tae have dreams, lad,” he said. “But be realistic about ‘em, so the fall doesnae bruise yer ass tae much.”
Luke glowered at him. He’d long known his friend didn’t believe in him enough to think he’d ever be considered to be one of the Wolves. In truth, Conall had been discouraging enough that he was wearing Luke down. There were days he doubted his own ability to be selected.
But he was determined. It had been his dream ever since he was big enough to swing a sword on his own. Luke knew his father had been somewhat disappointed when he chose not to follow him out to sea but into a life of service and possible war instead. But his father respected him for it and never denigrated what he was doing. He’d helped Luke as best he could, teaching him the way of the blade and preparing him for life as a soldier.
“Challenge bout!”
The voice echoed across the soldier’s field and sent a jolt of energy through Luke. It was his favorite part of the day. Once a month, after training and sparring sessions, the men at arms were given the opportunity to train with the Wolves, with the possibility of being asked to join them afterward. The catch was, you needed to beat Aiden Headen, Captain of the Wolves, in single combat.
In all of Luke’s time with the baron’s men at arms, he’d never seen a man best the Captain. It was a demoralizing exercise - one Luke had never had the stomach to attempt himself. Only a handful made an attempt every month since there seemed little point. You spent a few minutes getting your arse kicked around the combat ring and came back covered in bruises for the effort.
He watched Captain Headen casually standing on the far side of the ring, waiting for his opponent. In black breeches, black boots that went to the knee, a dark tunic under a black leather cuirass embossed with a matte black wolf’s head, and a dark cloak trimmed with white, he cut a striking figure. He wore dark iron bracers and greaves and had a dark helm with a black horse tail plume.
To Luke, he looked regal: like a proper royal guard, even though the baron was simply a minor noble, rather than royalty. He was a right, honorable man who could always be counted on for his strength, wisdom, and fidelity, as could be said about all of the Black Wolves. Captain Headen Bathgate, though, was everything Luke aspired to be. Lofty goals, Alice had said. Maybe so, but he wanted to believe that one day, he could call the man brother and stand shoulder to shoulder with him, fighting for something good and noble.
“Are ye goin’ tae dae it today?” Conall asked.
A large, burly man stepped into the combat ring with the Captain, and immediately the whispered wagers among the men started. He watched the way the man moved, set his feet, and gripped his sword.
“He’s tae tight. Tae tense,” Luke said. “This is over already.”
There was a sharp clack-clack-clack of the wooden practice swords followed by the meaty slap and a hard crunch of hard wood hitting flesh and breaking something - and then the sound of a man groaning. Luke watched as he was hauled out of the ring by a couple of his friends, blood streaming from his broken nose.
“Come on, lad,” Conall urged. “Step in.”
“Next,” Aiden bellowed.
A tall, wiry man stepped into the ring with the battle-hardened warrior. The challenger was young. Luke didn’t think he’d seen more than sixteen summers. He had a swagger and confidence that only the young had, and Luke knew the fight would be over quickly.
“Ye’re always goin’ on about bein’ a Wolf,” Conall pressed. “Ye’re never goin’ tae be one unless ye learn tae take a chance. So go and dae it already!”
The truth was, as much as Luke wanted to be a Wolf, he was terrified to step into the challenge ring. He did not fear combat. He feared losing. He feared that he would be exposed as a fraud and unworthy of a spot with the Black Wolves. He feared that his dreams would all come crashing down around him. And then what? If he didn’t have his dream of being a Wolf one day to cling to, what would he do then? Could he be satisfied with life as one of the baron’s men at arms?
Luke watched as the wiry lad feinted right and swung around to the left. The problem was, the Captain - and everybody else who was paying attention - saw the move coming from a mile away. There was no clack of practice swords this time. There was just the meaty thud and crack of bone, and the wiry lad was spitting out a few of his teeth, blood spilling down his chin as he limped away.
“Go on,” Conall urged, giving Luke a push in the back. “Get in there.”
Luke stood his ground and shook his head. “Nay. Nae today.”
“If nae today, then when?” Conall argued. “If this is yer dream, get in there and make it happen. Nobody’s goin’ tae dae it for ye.”
“I said nae today,” Luke snapped.
Before Conall could push him further, Luke turned and walked away. His anger was simmering within him, and he knew if he’d stepped into the ring, he would have suffered the same humiliating fate the others had. Anger coul
d be useful - when you could control it. But Luke felt himself hovering on the edge.
His confusion and anger about Alice continued to torment him, and he could not seem to rein it in. He would be fine for a little while and put it out of his mind; but then, out of nowhere, her face would flash into his mind, and he’d recall everything that happened the night before, and his anger would wash over him, pulling him below the surface.
Luke wanted to find her. Wanted to talk to her. To ask her why she’d run off on him like that. More than anything though, he wanted to spend more time with her. Wanted to put everything aside and continue building on what they’d started last night. But Luke knew that was unlikely. He wanted answers to his questions, but he didn’t know how to find her. And he knew he likely wouldn’t get the resolution he was longing for.
Every Highland Sin: Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance Page 4
