“Good. Do ye believe me now when I say ye’re bonny?”
She believed that he believed it. Though she marveled at it, she had never doubted it. “Yes.”
He nodded curtly and stepped away, leaving Al to sway unsteadily without his support. “Now, come, let me show ye my surprise.”
Chapter 15
It took every ounce of his willpower to turn and walk away from her. All of his strength to even walk a straight line, but Keir did it anyway. His entire body burned with wanting, longing.
As it had been for days, without even a single kiss between them yet. He wanted badly to taste her lips, to learn their shape. To feel them against his.
But he’d be damned if he’d give her more reason to think him a rake.
True, he’d never considered she might already have a man of her own when he’d made his intentions to woo her into his bed clear. The way she looked at him, he knew she found him comely. She couldn’t take her eyes off him any more than he could force his gaze from her.
That didn’t make him a rake.
Nay, she would come to him first before he’d admit to being brought low by his raging lust. She’d succumbed easily to a seduction of words and the slightest caress of his fingertips. The tiny tremors racking her body told him without doubt she wanted him. He thought only that she might be shy and so had provided an easy opportunity for her to take his kiss and allow them each to expel the desire burning within them both.
Still, she denied them. It’d never occurred to him that it would take so long. Or worse. That she might not plan to act on the attraction between them at all.
Now he was becoming less and less certain she ever would. It wasn’t morality or modest reticence holding her back but her own insecurity. He doubted she would ever see his true admiration for her when she couldn’t even acknowledge the beauty she possessed.
How could she not see it? Be confident in her appeal? Shyness wouldn’t account for it. Perhaps the men in the future were naught but blind fools? In his eyes, Al was the embodiment of womanly perfection. The generous curves were perfectly proportioned on her wee frame. Bountiful breasts that his palms itched to hold and weigh. A tiny waist flaring out to rounded hips, and her legs! Though he hadn’t given them the attention they deserved in his anger in the dungeon or when she’d come to his library, the memory of those bared limbs extending from her indecently short skirt haunted him.
He couldn’t imagine how men in her time kept a sane thought in their heads if all the women there dressed so scantily. Just the thought of her had kept him in a semi-aroused state for days.
There wasn’t beauty in her body alone, either. Nay, she had the face of an angel. Heart-shaped, her skin flawless ivory with a perpetual blush of pink on her cheeks. Her eyes were large and gray, fringed with long dark lashes. Her most prominent feature, he’d found his gaze drawn to them over and over. They reflected her moods, her humor, her intelligence.
With her blonde hair left unbound as she liked to wear it, she’d provided yet another part of her for him to admire. The long, spiraling locks had driven him mad for days, nearly consuming him with the desire to wind them around his fingers, around his body.
Och, she might make a rake of him yet.
How could she not see it? How she enthralled him with her splendor? Even the normally stoic Artair had fallen victim to it. Yet she remained blind.
It boggled the mind.
Perhaps the perception of beauty had changed over time. It had happened before. If that were the case, Keir was glad to have her here where she might be appreciated as she deserved.
Though he was saddened for her, in losing all she might have held dear in that life, he was happy to have her here with him now. Not simply because she was so bonny to look upon, but because she held a wealth of knowledge in her head.
Knowledge he longed to explore.
Having managed to tamp down his desire, he swept an arm upward, drawing her attention to his most prized possession. “This is why I brought ye up here. I thought ye might appreciate it as few others. A better way to see the stars than merely gazing up at the skies.”
* * *
Cursing his ability to remain so unaffected when she was shaken to the core by longing and desire, Al turned on wobbly legs and saw an enormous wooden cylinder suspended by a network of ropes and pulleys, angling outward and upward from a wood-framed support structure on top of the turret.
“What is it?”
“’Tis a telescope, lass,” he said in a tone clearly implying she should have known that.
It was, she realized as she walked around the monstrous structure. Obviously it wasn’t like any she had ever seen. The body of the telescope must have been four feet in diameter and at least thirty or more feet long.
“Where did you get it?”
“I built it.”
Awed into silence, she listened with half an ear as Keir expounded on the device. How he’d taken an interest in the stars after becoming acquainted with James Bradley, the Astronomer Royal at the Royal Academy, but hadn’t truly considered the science noteworthy until his study of light waves with Euler in recent years.
“I had it shipped from Paris when Father recalled me,” he went on, climbing the stairs to the top of the platform constructed at the lower end of the mammoth cylinder. He turned to lend her a helping hand. “My men just finished assembling it this day. Would ye care tae take a wee peek?”
Nodding, Al gathered up her long skirts in one hand and took his hand with the other. His warm fingers squeezed hers before letting her go.
“This is amazing,” she said, examining the eyepiece. “You did this all yourself?”
Shrugging modestly, he shed his jacket and unbuttoned his vest before loosening his neckcloth. Her eyes followed him, wishing she could put her lips on the pulse whispering along his taut neck.
Shaking away the urge, she tried to pay attention to what he was saying.
“I designed it based on other reflecting telescopes and had a small hand in the actual construction of the housing. I employed the services of a mathematical instruments maker named James Bird who has a shop in London on the Strand to help me with the mirrors. Grinding the glass took us almost eleven months but the magnification potential far exceeds other telescopes I’ve seen. Look, Al,” he urged. “See how far out into space its view can stretch.”
She was prepared to be underwhelmed. Compared to the telescopes of her day, surely this one couldn’t see very far. Even though it was so big. The moon, of course. Maybe a couple of the closer planets?
But as she peered into the telescope, listening as Keir pointed out different planets while tugging on winches to adjust the positioning, she found herself impressed by both the telescope and his knowledge. He showed her the planets, Jupiter and its moons, then Saturn. Speaking on the discovery of each by Galileo.
“I suppose you know him, too,” she asked jokingly.
“Unfortunately I dinnae hae the pleasure of meeting him ‘ere his death. He was verra ill when Hugh and I traveled through Italy.”
She’d just been joking! How incredible it was that he had been blessed with such opportunities.
“Since I’ve had this telescope, I’ve found reason to believe Saturn has more moons than the five determined by Cassini. And even more interesting, if ye look beyond Saturn,” he continued, adjusting the positioning of the instrument, “ye’ll see something I believe has ne’er been noticed before.”
He waved her away from the eyepiece and set about adjusting the focus before rising and motioning for her to take a peek. “See, there are more planets beyond. I’ve observed this one and another well beyond Saturn.”
Al looked into the telescope again but hardly paid it a bit of attention. Keir pressed up behind her, his cheek just inches away from hers as if he could guide her line of sight. “Do ye see it, lass?” he asked close to her ear. “If ye’ll look closely, ye’ll see it has moons of its own as well. Several, I think.”
/> How was she supposed to look when he was distracting her like that? “I can do it myself,” she huffed.
“Of course, ye can,” he agreed amicably enough, but he was grinning as he stepped away.
Taking a calming breath, she peered into the eyepiece once more, seeing a blue planet more clearly and far closer than she would have thought possible.
“You found this past Saturn?”
“Aye.”
“That’s Uranus.”
His enthusiasm fell away. “‘Tis already been discovered?”
She frowned, trying to think. To remember some bit of forgotten knowledge. “Yes, but…”
“And the other? The bluer one beyond it?”
“Neptune.”
“Bugger it, I’d submitted my findings to the Royal Academy before I left,” he said. “I’d thought I was first tae happen upon them.”
“Maybe you are,” she reminded him. “I’m not much of a astronomical historian. Besides, remember, what we know in my time doesn’t reflect on what you know in yours, right? There’s almost three hundred years of discoveries between us.”
“What else will we find out there? Tell me.”
“Well, there’s another planet beyond Neptune called Pluto. Some say it isn’t really a planet though. There’s some debate on that. Then there are galaxies, nebulae.”
“I ken these things.”
“Black holes…?”
“What are they?”
Obligingly, Al launched into a lecture on black holes which led to a lively debate on gravitational pull and Newtonian physics. Whether his contemporary John Michell’s gravitational research was truly describing black holes or not. For an outdated, mid-eighteenth century man, Keir had some surprising challenges to even twenty-first century ways of thinking.
They talked far into the early morning hours. Hours she thoroughly enjoyed both as a scientist and as a woman. There was something intoxicating about having the complete attention of an attractive man who wanted to climb into her head rather than just into bed, but in the back of her mind she was troubled.
There was something wrong here.
Chapter 16
Al slammed the thick text book shut, wrinkling her nose. She’d been through a dozen books already searching for… she wasn’t sure what exactly.
Something in what Keir had said the previous night was sitting ill, though she wasn’t entirely certain why. However, there was no chance of finding the answers in books leading up to this point. What she was searching for hadn’t even been written yet.
Or maybe it was all in her imagination.
A byproduct of her general distress in this time. There were so many dreadful things about being stranded in the past, though most revolved around personal hygiene. Poor excuses for soap, shampoo, and toothpaste. The labor intensity of getting a bath. And she dared not dwell too long on the more sanitary issues.
The clothes were cumbersome and uncomfortable as the days grew warmer. She envied Keir his lightweight shirt and kilt so much, she’d been tempted to tear them from his back.
She laughed inwardly. Yeah, that was why she wanted to tear off his clothes.
She couldn’t understand what he was waiting for.
With a sigh, she picked up another thick tome and read the spine. De Philosophia Cartesiana by Balthasar Bekker. With a grimace, she flipped it open to find that it wasn’t written in English, which was just as well. She doubted any philosophical writings beyond those of Confucious perhaps were going to provide tolerance for the lack of innovation here.
Only time could do that.
Time for invention but also time to acclimate to it all.
In some ways, she already had. The lack of technology didn’t hurt at all, much to her surprise. No phones, no alarm clocks. No TV or computers to mindlessly suck her into hours of wasted time. No social media to show her just how screwed up the world at large was. Or to body shame her into denying herself a cookie, or compel her to spend even more hours online searching for ways to exercise better and lose weight.
She liked the peace and quiet, the serene beauty of the Highlands. And the time to enjoy it.
She liked the food. The variety and freshness of the fish and gamey meats brought to the table even if they had unappetizing names like cullen skink, finnan haddie, and forfar bridie. Even haggis. The desserts were especially delightful. Fatty cutties, cranachan, and blueberry pie. Keir encouraged her to try them all without ever once implying her full curves couldn’t bear an additional pound or two.
She liked spending long days among books and in actual conversation with another person without a machine or screen between them. Without a smartphone to constantly distract them.
She liked not multi-tasking and just focusing on one thing at a time. Giving it her full attention.
Most of all, she simply liked Keir. Spinning the fantasy of days like these into a life and future was dangerous business. She wasn’t looking forward to the end.
So perhaps she was subconsciously searching for something else to rankle. Something to draw her from her growing comfort. To keep her uneasy, on her toes. So that when the time came to leave, she’d have a reason to go without hesitation.
“What are ye looking for?”
Al closed her eyes and prayed for strength. There was at least one part of Dingwall she’d be eager to walk away from without regret.
Maeve.
There’d been a dead sparrow on her pillow last night when she’d returned to her room. A curse, Peigi told her, that her cow’s milk be turned to blood. Since she didn’t own a cow, Al wasn’t as worried about that as she was about how Maeve had gotten into her room.
For it had to be Maeve. The most hostile element in a house or castle inhabited by those with hostile and semi-hostile inclinations. If she could get into her room, what was to stop her from smothering her in her sleep?
“Are ye spying? Hoping tae find some way tae do more harm tae this family than ye already hae?” Maeve snatched the book out of her hands as if it held national intelligence. “I willnae let ye do it.”
Al didn’t even try to defend herself. It was useless. Whether it was depression and grief over losing her only child that drove her, or she’d truly had been touched by madness as Keir believed, Maeve was wholly unwilling to listen to reason.
She moved closer and Al instinctively shied to the side, eyeballing the door as if it were her salvation. Either as an escape or as a entry point for deliverance. Unfortunately, it remained vacant and the woman stood between her and a way out.
“I don’t want to fight with you, Maeve,” she said slowly. “Or hurt you or your family. I would never do that. You’ve all been very good to me.”
“Aye, ye’ve cast a spell o’er them all. Especially Keir. He cannae see ye for what ye are, but I can.”
It was just too exhausting. Helplessly, she tried once more.
“What do you see, Maeve? What am I? I’ll tell you, I’m a woman like you. A woman who’s lost something and is just trying to make a new life without it.” She wasn’t certain but she thought she was getting through to the woman. The wildness in her overly-bright blue eyes had softened. She seemed to be listening. Perhaps understanding. At last. “You’ve lost the men you love. You’re angry, I understand that. You want to lash out at something. But this isn’t going to change anything. It won’t bring them… Ow!”
Stumbling to the side, Al cradled the side of her head and stared at Maeve and the huge leather-bound tome she was wielding in astonishment. So much for sympathy. The woman was completely psychotic.
She lifted the book to take another swing and Al lifted an arm to shield herself.
“Maeve.” A firm male voice rang out over the room, freezing Maeve in place before she lowered the weapon with one last snarl.
But it wasn’t Keir who had come to her rescue. Artair stood at the door, piercing Maeve with his most solemn gaze. “Leave her alone.”
“May the devil cut the head off ye and make
a day’s work of yer neck,” she growled at Al. With one last huff, she dropped the book and spun on her heel. Her ominous words echoed throughout the room as she left.
“Ye’ll hae to forgi’ her,” he said quietly, watching his cousin leave. “Ye’re an easy target for her tae place blame upon and she has little else tae occupy her time, I’m afraid.”
“Glad I can give her something productive to do.” She rubbed the side of her head. Her skull was ringing but nothing more harmful than that. “What did that mean ‘a day’s work of my neck?’”
“Och, that,” he scoffed, strolling farther into the room, hands clasped behind him. “Pay her nae mind.”
“What does it mean?” she pressed.
“In essence, she was merely wishing ye tae the devil.”
“Oh.” She could live with that. While a part of her felt sorry for the woman, there was another part happy to wish her a cheerful journey down the same path. Uncharitable, perhaps, but so was cursing people and hitting them with books.
Artair’s intense gaze rested on her until she shifted under its weight. As if sensing he was making her uncomfortable, he shifted his gaze, scanning the empty room. “Is Keir aboot?”
“No, he had business in Inverness. He said he’ll be back for dinner.”
He nodded. “I wanted tae discuss the eulogy wi’ him. Make sure he approves of my words.”
“The eulogy?”
“For Frang’s funeral. Didn’t he tell ye?”
He hadn’t, but then he was remarkably reticent in speaking of his family. Though he was open and even verbose with his answers once asked directly, as she had the previous night, he never volunteered new information.
She hadn’t decided if it was because he was a private person or if he just wasn’t used to anyone showing interest in his personal life.
Over the past few days she’d begun to think it was the latter.
“When is it to be?”
“‘Tis uncertain. We wanted tae postpone it until Father returned tae Dingwall, but since we’ve nae idea when that will be, I thought tae be prepared.” He drew a roll of parchment from behind him and unrolled it. The large page was covered front and back in his tight, cramped handwriting.
Love in the Time of a Highland Laird (A Laird for All Time Book 3) Page 10
