“I spoke with Brighde, as well. Can I not find our visitors interesting?”
Uilliam grew still as he gazed toward the fields in the distance.
“Uilliam? What is it?”
“’Tis clear to any who saw the two of you that there is a mutual interest there. I do not believe ’tis feigned, and I would be happy were you to make such a choice, in spite of our short acquaintance with him. He appears to be a fine man. But ’tis already causing trouble.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean to warn you, lest you are considering allowing your interest in the man to grow, that Rab is already casting about for a reason to have your da rescind the grant of hospitality to Kenneth. You ken Rab thinks you will settle for me.”
“You ken I will not settle.”
Uilliam was holding up a hand to stop her.
“I ken it well, and I do not take offense by it. I only seek to warn you of my father’s desire to stop any but me from marrying you. Were it up to me…well, I already like the man.” He grinned then, the broad expression that always made her grin back. “’Tis not just you enjoying his presence among us, either.”
“’Tis not me at all,” she said, though she knew Uilliam would hear the falseness of her words.
“All the lassies are twittering around him like a flock of wee birdies vying for attention. ’Tis annoying,” he said, slanting his gaze at her. “You do admit he is a braw man, aye?”
She turned away from Uilliam and pretended to admire the loch where it stretched westward from the foot of the ben, but really she was allowing the image of the man in question to fill her mind: broad shoulders and narrow waist, dark hair that seemed to always hang in his startling green eyes as the wind whipped it about. He had the air of a seasoned warrior, but it did not seem to have made him hard or harsh.
“Aye, Kenneth is braw, if a wee bit on the thin side, as if no one feeds him regularly.” She allowed her eyelids to drift closed, then let his face form in her memory. “He has beautiful eyes.”
“‘I ken not whether to be offended that you do not describe me in such words, or gladdened to know that you are not unseeing where men are concerned.”
“I am gladdened that she is not unseeing,” another voice said.
Elspet’s eyes slammed open as she swung around to face a grinning Uilliam…and Kenneth.
When Kenneth came through the postern gate and around the corner of the curtain wall in search of Uilliam, he spied Elspet standing in the midst of a bountiful, yet tidy, garden. His breath caught at the way the bright sunshine glinted off her flaxen hair. He stopped, savoring the remarkable beauty of the woman and the moment.
He closed his eyes and tried to remember the firm talking-to he’d given himself for most of the night, about avoiding her, as he clearly could not control his desire to be near her, to touch her, to make her laugh. Taking her hand in his last night had startled both of them, but he had been surprisingly happy when she had not only not pulled away, but had tightened her grip on his.
And yet, he knew anything he might have wished for last night could not be. She had everything here. He had nothing to offer her—no land, no clan, no home.
Even if he did, he had responsibilities that he could not forsake, even if Drostan wished otherwise. A vow was made. He would not break it. He would keep his distance from Elspet while he waited for his brother to show up. It was the right thing to do.
Except he carried a message for Uilliam…and Uilliam, he finally noticed, was standing not far from Elspet. Kenneth had been so completely fixed on the woman, he had not even noticed the man in serious conversation with her.
She turned away from Uilliam as Kenneth slowly approached the center of the garden, weaving through the spaces between the plants with care, giving himself time to get his unruly and unintended feelings under strict control, as well as his expression. As he drew nearer, Uilliam motioned for Kenneth to stop.
Uilliam kept his attention on Elspet, who still faced away from the two of them, and asked a question that immediately got Kenneth’s attention: they were talking about him, and it seemed Uilliam was encouraging the beautiful Elspet to at the very least think about Kenneth in terms other than as a guest of the clan.
“He has beautiful eyes,” she said, just barely loud enough to hear as the breeze picked up and tried to sweep the words away from him.
Uilliam grinned back at Kenneth and raised his eyebrows as if to say, “watch this!”
“‘I ken not whether to be offended that you do not describe me in such words,” Uilliam said to Elspet, “or gladdened to know that you are not unseeing where men are concerned.”
“I am gladdened that she is not unseeing.” Kenneth didn’t realize he’d said the words out loud but Elspet spun to face the two of them, her eyes wide and her hands on her hips. She glared at Uilliam, then sighed.
“You were not meant to hear that!”
“Nor were you,” Kenneth replied, “but I do not take mine back.”
“Do you not have a compliment with which to repay her?” Uilliam’s grin was ridiculously wide.
“I have not the words to do the lady fair justice, but aye, I noticed her eyes, too.” He remembered that first moment she had drawn close, stepping into the sunshine to speak to him. “A paler blue I have never seen.”
“And do you like blue eyes?” Elspet asked. He liked that despite the deepening flush she did not hesitate, as so many lasses would, to speak to him in such a direct manner.
He nodded, at a loss for words after all. He found he could not look away, despite his best intentions, and Elspet either could not or chose not to. He swallowed hard as silence filled the space between them. Uilliam cleared his throat, yet even that did not break the connection.
“Was there a reason you came out here?” Uilliam asked, clouting Kenneth on the shoulder far harder than was necessary, though it did finally force Kenneth to turn his attention to the man standing next to him.
“A reason?” Kenneth tried to clear away the pleasant haze that had overtaken his senses.
“Aye, why are you here?” Elspet asked, but her attention was focused on the grinning Uilliam now, and the snap in her eyes appeared to promise that she’d set him back on his heels as soon as Kenneth was gone.
“Why? Och, aye!” Kenneth said. “Rab wants you, or perhaps he was just getting rid of me. I ken not what I have done to the man, but he does not like me at all.”
“’Tis likely both,” Uilliam said. “And ’tis not anything you have done but rather something I have not.” He shrugged and a look passed between him and Elspet that Kenneth could not interpret. “I must see what is needed now.” He set a big hand on Kenneth’s shoulder. “I would ask you to stay here with Elspet and watch over her lest she grows lonely, or some great monster crashes out of the wood to feast upon her garden.”
“I am perfectly fine here on my own,” Elspet said, glowering at Uilliam.
“Nevertheless,” he said, “’twould be a kindness if you would do as I ask, Kenneth, and as I am the one Rab assigned to keep you busy, this is your task this morning.”
“’Tis a task I will gladly take,” Kenneth said, “though I suspect you will pay dearly for it later, if I gauge my lady’s look.”
Indeed, Elspet had her arms crossed and irritation pinched her mouth.
“You deserve whatever trouble Rab has found for you,” she said to Uilliam, but there was now a hint of teasing in her tone. “Ever the trouble maker, are you.”
Uilliam grinned at the two of them.
“Ever and always!” he said as he strode through the garden with a little less care than Kenneth had taken.
“The two of you are close,” Kenneth said, needing to fill the silence left behind by Uilliam.
“Aye.” She was smiling as she watched Uilliam retreat. “He is my oldest friend, and a thorn in my side much of that time.” The fondness in her words was clear and deep. “Rab wishes for us to marry.”
“But
you dinna wish for that?” He shouldn’t care one way or the other, but he did. Clearly he didn’t talk to himself firmly enough last night.
She laughed, the bright tinkling sound, like tiny bells on the wind, echoed off the curtain wall and folded back on itself in a particularly happy way.
“Rab would like that very much, and my da, as well, but no. We are too much like siblings.”
“And must you marry to suit them?” He tried to keep the question in, tried to stop wanting to ken more about her, tried not to care that she would marry.
All the mirth left her face. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Nay, but I am, as you can see, past the age most lasses marry, and I do wish for that, to marry, have a family of my own, but I will not marry for convenience.”
She hesitated a moment, as if she meant to say something else but stopped herself. He wanted to know what she withheld, but controlled himself enough not to ask.
“What do you want of me?” The words popped out of Elspet’s mouth one at a time, though she tried her best to stop them. She could not stop herself from glancing at him, then quickly away before she was captured by those emerald eyes.
“I do not want anything of you, Elspet.” His voice wavered, ever so slightly, as if he kept it under tight control.
She felt completely foolish. Perhaps she was the only one who had felt that pull, that yearning, that odd sense of knowing him already. She peeked at him again. He might control his voice, but the way he could not seem to take his eyes off her said she was not alone in those feelings.
She gathered her courage to speak the truth to him. “There is something here,” she waved a hand between them, “that I do not understand; that I have never experienced before. You feel it, too. Aye?”
He nodded slowly. “Aye. I do not understand it either, and to be honest, I do not wish to feel it.”
“Nay?” She should be grateful that he did not, but she felt a prick in her pride that made her uncomfortable.
“Has Drostan shared aught of our past with you?”
“Aye. I ken your village was burned when you were young and only the two of you survived.”
“Did he tell you of the vow I made to our mum that night?”
She shook her head. She had heard of no vow, only that Drostan and his brother did not see eye-to-eye on what they wanted in life.
“Before she sent us out a tiny window and into the wood to hide from the rievers who had been harrying our village for several weeks, but had begun setting fire to every cottage and byre that night, she made me vow to keep my brother always safe. She said I was his keeper now, and ’twas up to me to do what she and Da could not. That she depended upon me to watch over him always.”
He reached for her hand. His light touch made her dizzy and breathless.
“No matter what I might wish, I can do no less.”
She nodded. “I understand. We are strangers. This is just a passing curiosity between us. I know better than you might imagine the necessities brought by serving your duty to family and clan.”
He waited, silent and still, for her to explain, but she could not. He was not of the MacAlpin clan. She could explain nothing of her duty to him. She was as bound by her duty and he was by his. She must stay in Dunlairig. He must attend his brother, who would need all the help he could get now that he had a wife, and a child on the way. She should do as she had decided and step back from him, release any connection between them, no matter how little she understood it, but she could not bring herself to remove her hand from his just yet.
She met his emerald gaze, and was lost. His regret surprised her, and made her own wishes well up again.
She indulged herself, if only for a moment, by stepping just a little closer. Rising on her tiptoes, she steadied herself with her hands upon his chest and kissed him on the cheek. Before she could step back, his broad hands cupped her face, holding her in place gently as he pressed a sweetly chaste kiss against her lips. She tilted her head a little and kissed him back, letting herself experience whatever this was between them, before he pulled away and stopped it.
But Kenneth pulled her closer, trapping her hands between them as they both leaned into the kiss.
She let everything melt away except the softness of his mouth on hers, and the thrill that his heart pounded beneath her palms in time to her own. This was more than she had thought a kiss could be, more than a kiss had ever been for her.
A sharp whistle startled them, pushing Elspet out of the fog of sensation that had overcome her, but not away from where she stood in the circle of Kenneth’s arms.
“I should not have—” she started to say as the whistle sounded again, cutting her off and drawing their attention away from each other to the top of the wall.
The stableman’s lad had hoisted himself up on the parapet and was grinning down at them.
“Yer needed in the cow byre, Elspet!”
He immediately disappeared back behind the wall, and Elspet knew he was off to spread the news of their kiss. She stepped out of Kenneth’s arms.
“I fear Rab will have more reason to want you gone from the castle now,” she said.
“And you?” he asked. “Do you want me gone, too?”
Despite what could not be between them, she thought she heard hope in his question.
“I have reason to wish you to stay.”
Chapter 6
It turned out that a calf had discovered a noxious plant and was suffering the effects of it. Elspet had watched as Angus forced the calf to throw up what it had eaten, then settled herself on the byre floor to do her part, sitting with her back to a wall and the wee one’s head in her lap. It was still breathing harshly, and moaning a bit in the way of calves. Its mum stood near, shifting slightly on her feet, but not moving away from her bairnie and Elspet.
“You need not stay,” Elspet said quietly to Kenneth, who was sitting less than an arm’s length away. She stroked the calf’s soft cheek and tried to keep her focus on the ragged rise and fall of its chest. “I have seen this before. ’Twill be some time until she is upon her feet again.” The mother cow nuzzled at the calf’s flank, as if encouraging it to do exactly that right now.
“I do not mind keeping you company, Elspet. Besides, it keeps me out of Rab’s sight and gives the rest of your clan more to gossip about.”
“We do not need the gossip, and I thought you wished to be of service to your hosts.” She tried to be stern, but she suspected she failed. She glancing over at him to gauge her success. Doing that was a mistake when the memory of that kiss still created odd tingling in her fingers and lips, and a yearning to explore…all of him. He must have had some inkling of the directions of her thoughts, for he swallowed hard.
Twice.
“There is being of service,” he said, “and there is being constantly scowled at. I do not care for the later when I have not earned it.” He reached over to run the back of his fingers down her cheek. “Though it would seem I have earned it now.”
She looked over at a lad who had been instructed to stay with Elspet while Angus took care of making sure other lads rid the entire pasturage of the weed before another cow took sick. She knew, had Kenneth not been there, the lad would not have been required to stay, for Elspet regularly nursed sick animals by herself. In truth, though, she was glad for the chaperone. She was far too drawn to Kenneth MacGregor and giving in again to the attraction they clearly shared would only make his inevitable departure harder for both of them.
Besides, as long as he was present she could not openly do her part in healing the calf. She knew it was said by many that her mere presence held healing in it, but she also knew there was more she could be doing for the miserable wee beast.
“Nevertheless,” she said, carefully not looking at the man, “there is naught you can do here except grow sore from sitting on the cold floor. I need to be here. You do not.”
“Could not the lad comfort the calf?”
The boy in question wa
s not a full ten winters old yet. He sat, legs splayed out in front of him, already fidgeting with a piece of straw after just a few moments. He stabbed the air with it as if he wielded a sword.
She leaned a little closer to Kenneth, not wanting to hurt the lad’s feelings. “That one will require more of my care than he would be able to give the calf,” she whispered. “Angus left him here so he would be out of the way. It will not be long before he finds a reason to go in search of a handout in the kitchens from his grandmum.”
“Lad!” Kenneth called to him. “Will you go to the kitchens and ask for food and drink to be sent here for Mistress Elspet?”
“I do not—” she started to say.
“Aye!” The lad shot out of the byre without waiting for Elspet to finish her thought or call him back.
“We will not see him for a long time now,” she said, shaking her head. They were alone again, save for a worried mama cow and the sick bairn.
“I should not have kissed you.” His voice was low and soft. “I do not mean I did not enjoy it.” He paused, sighed. “I most definitely did.”
She smiled to herself, pleased she had unsettled the man, even though that had not been her intent. What had been her intent? Curiosity? Whim?
“I started it,” she said, after a moment. “I do not ken why, either, only that it seemed…” She did not have words for what had caused her to act.
“It did,” he said. “It was.” He was flustered, as much at a loss for words, for reason, as she was. He started to reach for her hand, then stood instead. “Perhaps it would be best if I were not here alone with you just now.” He paced to the door, then back. “I will go see that the lad makes it to the kitchens.” He returned to the door, then stopped, turned back to face her. “Is there aught else I can do to be of help?”
“A plaid or two would be nice. ’Twill be a cold night, even with the warmth of this little one in my lap.”
“You intend to spend the night here?”
“Only if necessary. Go first for food, and something to drink, then the plaids, if you dinna mind doing the lad’s job, for I can guarantee you that he will remember to fetch something for himself, but not for me.”
The Summer Star: One Legend, Three Enchanting Novellas (Legends of Scotland Book 2) Page 30
