She had enjoyed lying with him. Aileen had treated it like a duty, while the others seemed to try too hard, because they all wanted to be in line to be the laird’s lady wife, but that was something no one would ever have. He had never been himself around the other lasses. It was hard when he knew they were just looking to him to raise their lot in life.
Maggie was different—she wasn’t looking to stake a claim on him. Maybe that’s why he had this comfortable and simple ease with her that had not been possible with any of the Cameron lasses. It lifted all the pressure and relaxed him.
There was still the matter of her deception, and he didn’t like secrets. No form of dishonesty was acceptable, but with time she would open up to him. His little lass didn’t appear to be afraid of anything except what she had left behind. He wouldn’t push too hard, because he didn’t want her to flee again. He’d had her, and now he was certain he wouldn’t tire of her anytime soon, because she belonged here, in his bed.
It no longer mattered what she was running from—she was his and he could not imagine sending her away. She would not be going anywhere until he was ready to say she could leave.
Chapter Ten
Maggie woke to a delicious warmth and weight blanketing her. She sighed and peeked over to see Lachlan’s arm was draped over her waist; she was amazed at how much she liked it there. Not wanting to wake him, she studied him quietly. He looked peaceful and relaxed with his golden locks falling over his forehead and cheek. He was irresistibly handsome. His dimple was missing, but she liked that it only appeared when he graced her with the smile that made her insides tighten. Och, her perusal of his fine form was heating her right now.
Seeing him in this state, so relaxed, with her in his arms, when he was always on guard around her, gave her hope that despite her secrets, he would give her more of those coveted smiles.
On the journey, he had been wary of their surroundings at every turn. Now he was home, and she was sure he would turn his attention to discovering her identity. Maybe she would be lucky enough to have a few more nights like the previous one before he pushed her for the truth and she left for the convent.
Since their arrival at Kentillie, he had been as tense as a bowstring about to pop every time she had been near him. At dinner last night, he had worn a pained expression she couldn’t read. When they’d finally reached his bedchamber, it all changed. His only concern had seemed to be to bed her, and he had been so distracted by having her, he had forgotten to keep her at a distance. Or maybe that was his plan—keep her close since he couldn’t be sure of her.
She took a deep breath and expelled it slowly to let the worries go. Whatever his reason, she would enjoy this time with him, and last night had been more than she had ever hoped for. Her mother had told her the experience would shake her to her core and leave her always wanting. She didn’t want to admit it, but her mother had been right. Wanting a few extra days of bliss, she decided, ’twould be all right if she didn’t rush to take her vows. He would be done with her soon anyway—why not enjoy his touch while she could?
Maggie stretched, and Lachlan’s eyes opened. She continued to gaze at him but said nothing. What was said the morning after? A sated, sleepy grin curved his lips, and she found herself melting into him. A deep male hum reverberated from his chest, and he turned to face her as he threw his leg over her possessively. He wanted to bed her again, she realized as his hips rocked into her.
Her body thrummed with a thirst she only now understood, but she returned his gaze shyly. Already, she was heated and willing to take him into her body again, so she reached up to fork her hand into his thick, wayward hair. Maggie bit her lip then drew him toward her, and her mouth crashed down on his. The kiss was needy, a prelude to what had happened the night before, and oh, how she wanted that again.
The kiss deepened, and the evidence of his arousal hardened and jerked on her thigh. She sighed and tried to get closer, but he groaned and then pulled back, pushing her to arm’s length. The abrupt coolness between them shocked her, and tears stung the backs of her eyes at the denial. She’d not been expecting him to reject her. Was he done with her?
“’Tis too soon. If ye keep doing this I willnae be able to control myself. I dinnae want to hurt ye, lass.” His hand skimmed her face tenderly.
Without giving her a chance to speak, he threw the covers back and jumped up. His gaze lingered on her body, then he pulled the woolen blankets over her. “My mother will finish showing ye around today,” he said as he dressed. “I have been gone too long and have matters to see to. I will see ye at the evening meal tonight.” And he was dressed and out the door.
He had just run out on her. She had no idea where to clean herself. She had envisioned lovers would talk to each other, yet he was gone with hardly a word.
Sitting up, she stared openmouthed at the back of the door. Apparently nothing was said the morning after, and you just parted ways. It felt wrong. Last night, she’d been so close to him, and now she wasn’t even sure if she knew him.
A light knock sounded, followed by the door inching forward slowly to reveal a maid who had helped her bathe the day before. She smiled at the lass and quickly let the hurt go. Everything would be all right, and it truly didn’t matter if he was done with her, because she was free.
Most of the morning, Maggie toured the castle grounds with Elspeth, Lorna, and Donella. At some point they came upon a small redheaded girl staring up into a tree and calling, “Dina, Dina, come here.”
The child was probably all of eight summers but had the bonniest freckled cheeks, as if she’d spent all of those years out of doors. Images of her own youth spent out of the keep and away from her parents’ eyes flooded her mind.
Maggie looked up to see who could be in the tree but didn’t see anything, so she walked up to the wee lass and asked, “Who are ye calling, little one?”
“Me kitten.” The girl looked up at her with iridescent green eyes so sad that her heart almost broke. With eyes like that, she would have all the boys clamoring for her attention when she grew into a woman.
Maggie inspected the tree to find the little rascal and measure how high up it had gotten. “What’s yer name? I am Maggie.”
“My name is Agnes.” Her front teeth were missing, and her name came out with a slight slur that made Maggie want to smile.
“Well, now, Agnes, looks like we have work to do. I am going to help ye get Dina down. What we need is a rope and a basket big enough for Dina to fit in.”
The child beamed, and those sad little eyes brightened. “Aye, I ken where to find that.” The little girl ran off.
Panicked mews came from the kitten that had made it to about the eighth branch. The first was just about shoulder height, just low enough to get a grasp and swing up on. The rest would be an easy climb.
Followed by a group of friends, Agnes was back with the basket and rope so quickly Maggie had barely had time to plan the climb. The ladies slipped away as she went to work, but she hardly noticed. Securing one end of the rope to the handle, she pulled tightly to check the strength of her knot.
“Hold the basket now,” she ordered Agnes.
Maggie removed the brooch holding her arisaid, folded the fabric, and placed it gently on the ground with the pin. After tying the free end of the rope around her waist, she grabbed hold of the tree branch and pushed up quickly with all the force her feet could give her while pulling up with her arms. Her midsection landed square on the branch, and she was able to shimmy full on. Slowly, she stood and balanced by holding on to the trunk. Claps and cheers greeted her from below.
It was easy to follow the branches around and up, almost like a ladder. When she got to the seventh one, she called out to the little gray-and-white-striped fluff ball, careful not to spook the wee thing. Once she’d pulled the basket up, she reached over for the kitten and grasped it behind the neck. Leaning against the tree, she turned and reached for the basket.
“Maggie,” Lachlan’s voice boomed fr
om below, startling both her and the cat. It dug its sharp claws into her shoulder, and she flinched but concentrated on keeping her balance. “What the devil are ye doing, woman? Have ye lost yer head?” Maggie winced at his tone, which hurt more than little Dina’s nails. “Get down here before ye get hurt.”
She held tight but spared a glance down to see Lachlan, hands braced on hips as he glared at her. The climb had been farther up than she thought, but not so bad—she had always been good at climbing and had been much higher than this on many occasions. She hadn’t answered him yet, afraid to do so, because she thought they had made progress in their relationship, and now with his demands, they had taken a step back.
“Do ye hear me, Maggie? Get down here.” His voice crackled with irritation, probably due to her continued silence.
“Almost done.” She smiled at the little kitten. “Ye are going to be just fine. Dinnae let him scare ye.”
The little cat fought going into the basket for a brief motherent, then hunkered down and mewed in the bottom. Maggie slowly lowered the basket until Agnes grabbed it.
Dina was safe, however she was not sure if she would be. Staying put seemed like a good idea, but she started the descent anyway.
Out of an abundance of caution and trepidation at facing the fuming laird at the bottom, the trip down the tree took a considerably longer time than the climb up had. Lachlan’s face was impassive, but as she got closer, she could see his jaw twitching.
When she got to the bottom branch, she stretched out and moved sideways then leaped and landed with her back to Lachlan. Arms swiftly locked around her waist and swung her around, and she almost lost her balance. “Are ye mad, lass? What did ye think ye were about?”
Disappointed at his reaction, she squared her shoulders and faced him. “I was helping little Agnes get her kitten.”
“Ye could have been hurt.”
“Nae,” she said dismissively, “’twas an easy climb.”
“Dinnae ever do that again.” Had he actually ordered her to never climb a tree again? How absurd.
“What is wrong with climbing a tree?” Irritation sparked as her brow crinkled. He was treating her like a little child.
“Ye are in nothing more than a shift. If there had been men down here, do ye ken what they would have seen while ye were moving about up there? I got a good view,” he ground out.
She blushed. Och, she seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. The children stared wide-eyed as their laird berated her.
“’Twill be all right,” Maggie reassured them when Agnes hung her head to study the ground. “Make sure Dina gets home safely. Go play.” The group ran off, following Agnes with Dina in the basket.
She turned back to Lachlan. “Ye didnae have to scold me like that in front of them,” she said, defiantly crossing her arms, but she wanted to stamp her foot in frustration. She was doing her damnedest to make friends while she was here.
“What am I going to do with ye?”
“I am not sure I ken yer question. What do ye want to do with me?” she asked with a hint of sarcasm and tilted her chin up to meet his eyes.
He groaned, and his eyes grew dark. He stalked toward her, and she shivered as his large hands coiled around her small wrists and pulled them up. He backed her against the tree and pinned her arms above her head. His eyes raked her with a hot stare that had nothing to do with his anger but was filled with the desire she’d seen in him as they’d lain together the night before.
The bark was rough and solid, but his steel-forged body was even harder, and her core heated at the pressure. With intense, needy eyes, he continued a slow perusal of her body. He smelled of musk and the woods and all things forbidden, and the scent ignited a fire in her womb.
He closed in and growled in her ear, “What I want is to take ye here and now. I want to be inside ye again.”
She melted at the words, and if he’d not been holding her up, her knees might have buckled. A triumphant smile turned up the corners of her lips.
“I want to feel yer body in mine again, too.” The words flew out unbidden, and this time she didn’t blush. She couldn’t deny how her body reacted to his.
His mouth claimed hers, devouring her eager response and driving her senseless with need. She groaned as his heated, velvet touch fanned the flames churning inside her, and he ground the evidence of his arousal into her belly. The proof of his desire called to a primal part of her.
All rational thought escaped her, and she thought, then take me. But the words were lost as his tongue delved and tangled with her own.
“Lachlan.” Elspeth’s voice cut through. Not harsh, almost in jest. “This is no’ the place for that.” Maggie opened her eyes to find his mother, a wry smile and knowing eyes, with Donella and Lorna at her side giggling like little lasses and not trying to hide it. “Maggie has more of our kin to meet.”
He ground his teeth and whispered in her ear, “Tonight. I will have ye tonight.”
After releasing her arms, he stomped off without acknowledging his mother. Color stole across her cheeks as she turned to face the ladies and realized they didn’t seem to disapprove of the display they had just witnessed. Did that mean they approved, or that ’twas common for Lachlan to so brazenly kiss a lass in public? Not certain she wanted the answer to that question, she swallowed her doubt and asked, “Where to next?”
While touring the buildings and grounds outside the keep, they stopped at the textile mill, where she was introduced to Arabella, another girl close in age to Donella, Lorna, and her. The woman latched onto Maggie as if they had always known each other, and something about her overly friendly manner set warning bells ringing in Maggie’s head.
Arabella guided her to a back room filled to overflowing with bright colors of woven fabrics. Bright midday sun shone through the windows and illuminated the lovely material, but the air was stifling, and she had the urge to run over and fling open a window. When the woman motioned for her to sit on a bundle of the warm woolen material, she did so, not wanting to offend her. Sweat prickled at the base of her neck, and she fought the urge to fan herself. Pacing, Arabella peppered her with questions, first about her home, then about Lachlan.
“Ye need to be wary of the man. He doesnae give his heart to anyone.” Mayhap she was trying to be helpful.
“I heard he had a bad experience, and he never wants to marry.” So far, no one had given her much insight into Lachlan’s past, and she found herself leaning in to hear Arabella’s reply.
Although she would never love a man, a strange curiosity had overcome her, as if the balance of her new freedom hinged on what she could learn. Maggie had to admit she cared for Lachlan. He was a good leader, and she’d seen nothing but high regard for his men; they had laughed and joked most of the trip as if they were friends, while her father and brothers didn’t have that kind of relationship with the men who worked for them.
Most of all, he seemed to hold an admiration for what women thought.
“Aye, she broke his heart.” Arabella placed both hands over her breast, pursed her lips, and shook her head sympathetically. The exaggerated gesture seemed practiced and lacked any real emotion.
“He seems more distrustful than hurt. Did he love her?” Maggie held her breath and found it a little disconcerting that she cared what the answer was.
“Oh, aye, they were inseparable from early on. He definitely loved her.” An odd twinge of disappointment took root in her belly. “He never looked at another lass while she was here.”
Maggie perked up. “Has that changed?”
“Aye, it has. He looks at all the lasses now.”
As she suspected, he was a rogue. Her heart sank, and she chided herself for feeling anything.
Arabella continued, “They all love him, too. I think he has a different one every month. I fear he will never settle down.”
“Oh,” was the only response Maggie could muster as she fought the tightening in her chest.
“He even chose m
e for a time, longer than most. He threw me away, just like all the other lasses.” Arabella’s lips thinned and her voice had an edge, but her calm, friendly exterior remained. “There is always hope that he will come to his senses. He says he willnae marry, but he is the laird. He has to have heirs.”
“Did ye wish to marry him?” Maggie pulled at her arisaid; she might disrobe soon if she couldn’t get to some cooler air.
Would it bother her if this woman wanted Lachlan? It shouldn’t, but it did. She did not want a man. Or did she? She could still want a man and not have to love him. Something stabbed at her heart, and she recognized it for what it was: jealousy.
After last night, she wanted Lachlan. Aye, every fiber of her being wanted him. Even before that, she had come to enjoy his company and respect him. “Respect”—it was a word she’d never imagined she could use in the same sentence as “man.” He made her feel things she didn’t understand, and the thought of his eyes straying toward another woman made her hands tremble with fear or rage or a combination of both.
“Aye, I did, along with every other single woman here. Everyone wants him, and that is why he has his pick of bedmates. He goes through them faster than a summer storm. Then he leaves them heartbroken to pick up the pieces.”
’Tis too much. She had to get some fresh air. Maggie stood and started toward the door, but Arabella’s hand clamped around her arm.
“I like ye.” She coiled her arm around Maggie’s shoulders and squeezed a little too tightly. “I think ’tis important ye ken he willnae keep ye. I am trying to protect ye from the heartbreak.” Arabella released her grip, but moved to stand in front of Maggie and gazed directly into her eyes with what appeared to be real sincerity. The gesture was meant to be reassuring, but it made her uncomfortable.
“Maggie, there ye are, lass. We didnae ken where ye had gotten off te.” Elspeth burst into the room like a ray of sunshine. Arabella turned to smile innocently at Lachlan’s mother.
Doubt and inadequacy engulfed Maggie. She didn’t plan to stay at Kentillie for long, but she couldn’t shake the disappointment that Lachlan would never care for her. It was the same feeling Maggie had experienced around her own mother, that no matter how she tried, she wouldn’t be able to earn the love she craved.
Highland Deception (Highland Pride) Page 13
