Vexing the Highlander

by Terry Spear

  When Alban pulled the door open, he was bare-chested, wearing his brat belted at the waist, without shoes or a tunic. For a moment, she stared at his beautiful, muscled chest, her heart pounding with worry about being caught alone with a half-naked Highlander, and with concern for her servants.

  “Lady Aila.” He startled her from her thoughts, then he moved out of his room and closed the door to his chamber. “What is wrong?”

  “Oh, aye, our servants are ill. We thought they would be better and looked to be improving earlier today. But tonight they are both feverish, and we canna bring the fever down. I wished to find the healer, but—“

  “You canna run around the castle alone. I will go and find one for you. Return—“ Alban’s words were abruptly cut short when they heard someone’s heavy footfalls as he approached.

  Feeling panicked, she was afraid she wouldn’t make it down the corridor to her room in time before she was caught.

  Alban must have assumed the same thing and suddenly moved her against the wall with his hot body pressing indecently close and held her hostage. “Forgive me,” he breathed against her cheek. And then he moved his warm lips against her mouth and kissed her.

  A lady with the right upbringing would never, ever kiss a gentleman—or an untitled Highlander—let alone do so in the king’s own castle when he planned to marry her off to one of his loyal lords. She would never have kissed Alban back—or so she told herself—except to pretend she was not who she was, rather just a servant girl having a good time with one of the king’s honored guests.

  Yet, she gave into the kiss as if she’d been trained in the art of kissing, which, with the way Alban was kissing her back, she found it easy to follow his lead. She soaked up the feel of his warm mouth against hers, and the smoldering flame that ignited low in her belly and fanned the heat all the way through her, despite the chill in the corridor. His chest pressed against her breasts, making them tingle with the most delicious need. His manhood stirred against her waist, and she realized why her mother had warned her and her sister never to kiss a gentleman in such a manner. Indeed, not until she was wed to him, for she felt urges she’d never known she could experience. Womanly urges that compelled her to take this further.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, Alban’s mouth smiling slightly against her lips, as she pressed him tighter. She thought if he was as close as he could be, whoever was about to pass them by—hopefully without stopping to speak—would not see her, as tall as Alban was. Though she was hoping the Highlander would not presume she was always this forward with a man whether she knew him or not. Yet she was thrilled beyond measure to enjoy his attentions, even if it was just to keep her reputation intact. But if the man stopped to speak with Alban, and the Highlander quit kissing her to speak with the person in kind, her character would be in tatters.

  “Ahem,” the male said, but continued to walk on by.

  She didn’t dare glance in his direction to see if she knew the man. Alban didn’t either, but she wasn’t sure if it was because he was so wrapped up in kissing her, or because he was afraid to reveal who she was.

  If Alban hadn’t been holding her so close, she would have melted right into the stone floor, her body boneless. His breathing was as labored as hers, his heartbeat pounding just as fast. He didn’t make a move to release her, waiting while the footfalls faded away. He smelled of summer and the woods, of freshly-washed, earthy male. And then the footsteps were gone.

  Yet even then, Alban didn’t let her go. “Wait, just a moment more.”

  She should have wanted to scurry back to her chamber, hide away from the threat of exposure, but she craved being with Alban longer, to enjoy more of this with him.

  She did as he told her, kept her arms around his neck, and held him tight as if her life depended on it. Again, she wished the king could consider Alban as a prospect for marriage. If nothing more than she thought he would be a wonderful lover, kind, and protective.

  “Okay, we can go now.”

  But he didn’t let her go to her chamber by herself. He rushed her down the corridor, his hand holding hers, warmly, possessively. And she wondered if he’d thought to kiss her closer to her chamber if someone else should suddenly wander through there. She opened the door, and squeezed his hand, her voice breathy when she spoke. “I am in your debt.”

  He only smiled, his voice husky. “As I am in yours.”

  The rogue!

  Then she moved inside and closed the door, and listened as he moved away from it in a hurry. She leaned against the door, not believing how she’d kissed him, or the trouble they both could have been in if they had been caught.

  “Has he gone to fetch the healer?” Wynda asked.

  “Aye.”

  “Tell me you were no’ caught with him in the corridor.”

  “Nay, no’ that anyone would know.”

  “Why are your cheeks so flushed?” Wynda asked, alarmed.

  “Someone came. Alban had to…” Aila paused. It was one thing to tell her sister what had happened. Quite another to mention it in front of their servants.

  Wynda joined her and whispered, “Had to what?”

  “Kiss me. We had to kiss, to make it look like Alban was with a servant. That I was that servant.”

  “Och, nay.”

  “Aye. I am no’ ruined. He will say naught of this to anyone. And he has gone to do our bidding.”

  “I should have been the one to ask for his help.”

  “Nay.”

  Wynda’s brows shot up. “Because he might have kissed me instead of you? The king willna wish you wed to the Highlander, Aila. Remember that.”

  “Aye, it was only a means to protect me from prying eyes. He was bare-chested, after all.”

  Aila didn’t think she’d ever seen her sister’s eyes grow as big as they were right now.

  “Of course, you didna kiss him back.”

  “Oh, aye, of course I did.” Aila lifted her chin and folded her arms. “How else was I to pretend to be a serving girl caught up in the rapture of the moment?”

  Wynda groaned, and the two of them grabbed wet cloths and each returned to one of their servants to try and cool down their feverish skin.

  Alban rushed into his chamber and woke Ward. “I must find the king’s healer. Lady Aila’s servants are sick with fever. I wanted to let you know where I was if you woke and found I was gone.” Alban threw on a tunic and refastened his plaid around it.

  “I will come with you and we can split forces to locate one.” Ward was already out of the bed and dressing.

  Soon, they headed out of the chamber and, after descending the stairs, they saw a dark-haired guard approach, his look stern, his hand on the hilt of his sword. They weren’t used to guards being about at this time of night, but Alban supposed that since the king was here, it would be prudent.

  “Lady Wynda and her sister are in need of a healer. Rather, their maids are,” Alban told the guard.

  “I will take you to her. Quickly, though.”

  They passed through to a large chamber where servants were sleeping on pallets and the guard woke one. “Inghean, your services are needed.”

  Alban explained the situation while she woke a younger woman, who looked at her with bleary eyes.

  “Come. This is what being a healer is all about.” Then Inghean wrapped her plaid about her and the other woman did likewise.

  “She is in-training,” Inghean grumbled, sounding as though the training was not going well. Then she grabbed a bag and woke another servant. “Two women are ill. I need you to help me.”

  While they went about their preparations in the kitchen, the guard returned to his post and Alban and Ward headed back to their chamber. Though Alban continued on to Lady Aila’s chamber to let them know the healer, her assistant, and another servant were on their way to aid them.

  “Thank you,” Aila said, a wet cloth in her hand, her expression hopeful. She was beautiful with her red hair curling over her shoulders as
if she’d had a good tumble in bed. “We are forever beholden to you.”

  “I pray the maids shall recover soon. Did you need anything else of me?”

  “Nay. We thank you again.”

  “Good night, my lady.” He bowed deeply to show his utmost respect to her, to let her know that though he had loved kissing her, feeling the passion ignite between them, in no way did he respect her any less for what had happened.

  “Good night, Alban.”

  He took his leave and knew when he retired for the night, all he would think about was the intimacy they had shared and how much he wished for more.

  On the way to his chamber, he nodded to the healer and the others who were hurrying to Aila’s chamber and then he shut the door to his own. As soon as he returned to his bed, Ward asked, keeping his voice low so only Alban would hear him in the event anyone was listening in, “Just what did happen between you and the lady?”

  “You were asleep.” At least Alban was convinced Ward had been, unless he had pretended to be so he didn’t have to answer the door.

  “I woke when you left the bed. You were only half dressed when you were standing in the doorway speaking to Lady Aila. And then you went into the corridor with her and shut the door. You were out there with her for what seemed like an interminable time. Alone. At least I didna think Lady Wynda was there also.”

  “She was seeing to the sick servants.”

  “Then Lady Aila was alone with you.”

  Long silence. Alban knew his brother was pondering the consequences, not that he’d fallen asleep.

  “You were lucky no’ to have been seen then alone with the lass. You know as many people as there are here for the gathering, there will always be someone who is out and about.”

  Alban wondered who had seen him with Aila, though at least he believed the man had not known who she was or something would have been said already. Unless it had been a servant and he told someone of importance later.

  “You were no’ seen, correct?”

  Alban had no intention of lying to his brother, though he hadn’t intended to talk to him about this if he hadn’t asked him directly. “I kissed her so that whoever the man was who passed us by wouldna see her face. Mine, either. Though because we were standing so close to our chamber door, he might have presumed it was me. Or you even.”

  Ward said not a word.

  Alban figured he was thinking on the matter, wondering how to deal with the consequences if something was said on the morrow.

  “You are sure the man didna know who she was?”

  “I dinna think so.”

  Ward turned in his bed. “Was she upset with you for taking license?”

  “Nay. Grateful. I protected her from prying eyes. But more than that, I was going to find help for their sick maids.”

  Again there was a prolonged period of silence. Alban was tired and wanted to sleep, but all he could think of was Aila and the way she had so passionately held him tight to her breast and kissed him back.

  “Let us hope then that we shall no’ find ourselves in chains in the dungeon on the morrow. Good night, brother.”

  Alban closed his eyes. “You would have done the same.”

  Ward chuckled. “I imagine I would have, though if it had been me, the lass might have objected quite strenuously.”

  Alban smiled. At least he hoped the lass would not have wished to kiss his brother.

  Before Alban was ready to wake that morn, Ward was already rousting him from the bed. “Time for the hunt. We canna be late.”

  “Aye.” Alban loved the hunt, but hunting with the king was a different matter. He hoped he did not breach protocol if he should spy a boar and take off after it when he should leave it to the king. He had not slept well at all last night, not while recalling how Aila had wrapped her arms around his neck and played the role of a smitten serving girl perfectly. Except he didn’t think she was just pretending to enjoy the intimacy between them.

  He hurried to dress. “I want to stop by the ladies’ chamber to see how the maids are faring.”

  “Aye, but I am going with you to keep you out of trouble in case you have the urge to kiss Lady Aila again.”

  “What happened last night was out of necessity. It willna happen again.”

  “Aye,” Ward said. “Unless it becomes necessary again.”

  They left the chamber, headed for the ladies’ door, and Alban knocked.

  The healer answered the door and Alban was disappointed he was unable to see Aila. But she might have been asleep still, or getting dressed, which was just as well.

  “The ladies are sleeping. Their maids are also. They are doing much better this morn. The fever has broken.”

  “We are glad to hear it,” Alban said. “We are off to the hunt, but we will check back with you when we return.”

  “As you wish,” she said, then shut the door.

  “To the hunt then, brother. May neither of us do what we ought no’ and pay for the mistake.” Ward slapped Alban on the back and again Alban would have wished his presence at the king’s gathering had not been required, if it had not been for his meeting Lady Aila.

  4

  Following the knocking on the chamber door, Aila had heard Alban’s voice inquiring as to their maids’ condition. She at once wished she’d been dressed and had received the news. Even though it was best that she had not. Not after what had happened between Alban and Aila last night.

  Even so, she was glad to hear the maids were well, and she poked at Wynda to wake her. “We are going to be late.”

  Wynda groaned. “But the maids—“

  “The king willna excuse you from the hunt when he intends to arrange marriageable prospects for you. You best be on your way,” Inghean said. “We will take care of them while you are gone. You wouldna be able to do anything more for them than we can.”

  Aila was already dressing, grateful that the maids were getting better, but worried she and her sister might turn up late for the hunt. Despite knowing it was not prudent to show any more interest in Alban, she was hoping to see him anyway.

  When she and her sister joined the gathering in the bailey, it was so crowded that she couldn’t see Alban for all the other men ready to hunt with the king.

  Wynda smiled at her as if knowing just who she was looking for, though she’d warned her again that showing any interest in Alban was a lost cause.

  And then she saw him, sitting proud upon his horse, his quiver and bow, sword and dagger ready for a fight, or a hunt. But what thrilled her to no end was that he was watching her and as soon as he caught her eye, he bowed his head a little to her. She gave him a quick smile, and felt her cheeks flush, though she was certain he couldn’t tell from the distance he was from her.

  Gustafson and several other men glanced in her direction, and Aila turned away for both their sakes, hoping no one would know who Alban had just acknowledged with a courtly greeting.

  And then they moved off to the woods to hunt.

  A lady riding near her commented, “’Tis a shame Alban would never be considered acceptable for a lady to marry.”

  Aila glanced at her, wondering just how she had come to that conclusion. Lady Felicia was also eligible for marriage, dark-haired, her dark eyes and lips smiling in an amused way. Then Aila recalled the dancing and how she had danced with Alban so many times. She almost breathed a sigh of relief that the woman’s comment had nothing to do with the incident outside Alban’s chamber.

  “A rumor is circulating that he is quite the lady’s man,” Lady Felicia said.

  Aila tried not to allow the woman’s words to upset her. Aila should have realized he might be, as handsome and charming as he was. Not to mention the way he kissed her so exquisitely had to mean he was well-versed in the activity.

  “They say he was with a woman in the corridor last eve.”

  Aila’s heart practically quit beating.

  “You have a chamber with your sister down that same corridor, do you no�
�?” Felicia raised a brow. “I heard you had some trouble with your servants and Alban came to their rescue.”

  Word sure spread around the king’s court quickly. “He did. And the maids are recovering thanks to him, the healer, her assistant, and the other woman who helped them.”

  “Then he must have been interrupted with his business with the maid. The king’s steward didna know who she was, but as happens in a court, with all the intrigue that goes on here, he is attempting to learn the truth of the matter. He asked Alban, of course. But the rogue said he hadna even learned her name. Some women are so wanton.”

  Aila’s face burned with mortification. Was the woman fishing for the truth? Watching her reaction? Wondering if she were the woman, or if it would upset Aila that he was such a “rogue” with regard to seeing other women? Despite the seriousness of the situation, she couldn’t help but be glad the woman he had been with was none other than her, and not some other.

  “You are interested in Lord Dunlap, are you no’?” Aila asked, changing the subject. She wondered if Aila’s dancing with the lord had irked Felicia. She hoped it had.

  Felicia shrugged. “I am interested in many, as many are interested in me. They say ‘tis because of my beautiful dark tresses for one. Though I have many other qualities they are interested in.”

  “Indeed.” Aila couldn’t imagine even one. The woman had to have everyone do everything for her as if she was incapable of doing anything for herself. She couldn’t imagine what she would have done if her maids had become ill on the journey here.

  “I am glad no’ to have fiery red hair. It must cause you much grief.”

  Not if the way Alban seemed to like her just as she was, if that was any indication.

  Wynda was on the other side of Aila, listening to the conversation. She cast Aila a small smile.

  The sky was beginning to lighten as everyone grew quiet, moving through the woods to search for prey. None of the women were hunting, just being there to show they supported the men in the hunt. Not that Aila and her sister couldn’t, but the king didn’t wish it. Even the men had to be careful they didn’t take down the king’s own prey.