by Tamara Gill
“So, you don’t know of anyone who wishes you harm? There must be someone or those men wouldn’t have said what they did.”
Ben pulled her to a stop, turning Kenzie to look at him. She had to tilt her neck to meet his gaze. His lack of care in finding out who wanted him dead wasn’t helpful. Since he’d returned to health, and their conversations had increased, Kenzie liked him a little more each day, and hated the thought of his impending demise.
“Since none of the men who attacked us will be returning to their hired foe, I foresee no immediate danger. I will continue to kill anyone who wishes me harm until my foe comes to finish the job himself. I just hope it is a worthy battle.”
“Are you not scared of dying? I’m terrified of it.” Just the thought of a sword cutting in her two was enough to send Kenzie into a cold sweat. And after the ferocious, blood-thirsty bastards who had come after them the other day, it had proven to her that this time was dangerous, fierce, and for the most part, lawless.
They walked on, and she ignored the visceral reaction that occurred whenever he pulled her close or touched her in some small way. “Death is a part of life and we all shall meet that fate. I have no fear of what is to come. I assume it will be something like sleep, but permanent.” He grinned.
Kenzie chuckled at the use of his words. “I imagine you’re right, which, when you state it as such, isn’t so scary at all. We sleep every night and are not afraid of that.”
“Do ye sleep at night when ye go to bed? If ye state ye do, it shall ruin the fantasy I have of ye when ye go to your room.”
Kenzie smacked his arm, laughing. “Do not start flirting with me, Laird Ross. You’ll get nowhere fast.”
“Really.” It wasn’t a question, and Kenzie ignored the fact that he was staring at her. “I beg to differ,” he said, after a time.
Wow. Wow. Wow. “I’m not attracted to you in that way, and I’m only starting to like you. Do not push our friendship.” Liar.
Many nights she’d lain awake, wanting him with a fierceness that was maddening. It was the oddest thing, since she didn’t really know the man, but then, for women in her time, it wasn’t so out of the ordinary to act upon desire. The thought of his hands caressing her skin, clasping her hips, or holding her face in his palms as he kissed her, drove her mad. Kenzie had finally accepted that she wanted him. Wanted to sample his fine body before she went home.
“I would lay good money down that you, my sweet Kenzie, are lying your delectable undergarments off. Should I pull ye behind those trees just beside the church and kiss ye senseless, this denied attraction ye boast about would crumble like chalk.”
Never before had Kenzie been in a situation where she wanted a man to do exactly as he was threatening, while also praying he would not. Should Ben kiss her, even chastely, it would be hard to halt what she desperately desired. But she wasn’t staying in this time and this man beside her only had months to live. If she couldn’t stop his death, there was no future here. None.
“I don’t give you leave to kiss me and as a gentleman I know you’ll honor my wishes.”
“I’m no gentleman.” His whispered words against her ear sent butterflies to take flight in her stomach. Damn it. Damn everything. Why did this man have to be so intoxicating? Why couldn’t he have stayed the barbarian who only saw her as a piece of meat who could give him pleasure? If only he’d go back to that obnoxious being, her denial of him would be a lot easier. Not this man, a man who appreciated a joke or lighthearted tease. One of the most attractive features any man could have was a sense of humor, and to find the big, bad Black Ben had one wasn’t something Kenzie had expected.
“Yes, you are,” she said, calling his bluff and pulling him toward the church. “Or you would’ve done it already.”
“Now ye really are poking a lion, lass.”
They came up to the small, rectangular church that sported dirt floors and coarse, wooden pews. The alter was stone; no ornate marble or granite sat at the head of the church, just candles to light the space.
Kenzie found Gwen and sat beside her, noting that Ben sat on the pew behind them. A kitchen maid sat beside Ben with more excitement than Kenzie wanted to see. The girl’s chatter as they waited for the bride and groom bordered on pathetic, and Kenzie focused on the priest instead of musing over why a woman talking to Ben aggravated her so much. Oh, who am I kidding? It is bloody obvious why I don’t want anyone talking to Ben. I want him all for myself.
“Remember, my dear, your life is your own.”
“What do you mean by that?” Gwen threw her a knowing look and Kenzie narrowed her eyes, not liking her ancestor’s insight. It was bad enough that Kenzie even liked a man born hundreds of years before her, without it being obvious to others.
“Like I said, if ye like him, ye shouldn’t let time or place play a role in that. What’s life if it’s not to be enjoyed?”
“And you think I would enjoy him?”
Gwen laughed. “Yes, very much so.”
Thankfully, the bride and groom arrived and saved Kenzie from any further uncomfortable conversation with Gwen. The woman’s words had scorched her cheeks. Disregarding how red her face must be, she turned with the congregation to watch the couple walk toward the priest. The bride wore a blue gown that would’ve been unremarkable had it not been cut to flatter the woman’s figure, which made it very pretty. Her groom wore the Macleod tartan and clean shirt, making him look very respectable and handsome. They were a striking pair and, based on the sweet looks they were giving each other, very much in love.
The service wasn’t as long as some of the weddings Kenzie had been to before. The priest said some words in Gaelic that she couldn’t understand, followed by a piece of tartan being wrapped about the couple’s hands, tying them together in union, and they kissed to seal their fate.
A little while later, in the great hall, Kenzie listened to a band of musicians playing a harp and fiddle. The music was lively, practically begging celebrants to get up and dance. The happy couple, too, took part in the festivities, and Kenzie noted that most of the people present were house servants and yard staff.
All seemed to be enjoy drinking, dancing with each other, and laughing at inane jokes and stories. Laughter, above all else, rang through the hall and it was lovely.
“Are ye enjoying yourself, lass? Ye seem quite taken with our celebration of the holy sanctimony that ye call marriage.”
“It’s a great party and the couple look so in love. I should imagine there are a lot of marriages that aren’t as lucky.”
“Ye’re right about that.” The somber tone of Ben’s reply gave Kenzie pause. Had his marriage been an unhappy one? She thought not, but maybe she was wrong. Kenzie understood what it was like to be a child of an unhappy marriage, and it was certainly worse if you were stuck in an unhappy union and unable to get out.
Ben sipped from his wine, his eyes no longer as clear and bright as they usually were. The party had been going on for some hours now, and it seemed as if he was enjoying himself a little too much now that he was almost back to full health.
“I understand you were married. Will you tell me a little about her? Only if you wish to, of course.” For weeks, Kenzie had wanted to know who Ben had married. What had this mysterious Aline been like? Was she nice? Beautiful? Tall or short? And how had she managed to get this big, hulking Scot to succumb to vows?
Ben’s attention didn’t waver from the dancing couples before them. He was quiet for so long that Kenzie wondered if he was going to answer, when he said, “What’s to say, other than the lass married me under false pretenses, and I ruined her life.”
Kenzie coughed, stunned. Not entirely, anyway. “She bore you a child. I’m sure Aline didn’t think that you ruined her life.” And to Kenzie, now that she’d come to know Ben a little, she couldn’t find much not to like. He was strong, loyal, cared for those around him…
“When ye friend Abby came back, Aedan was engaged to Aline. I tricked the lass in
to running away with me. To marry me under the pretense that I loved her and that she’d be happier and better off at Castle Ross.”
“Did you come to love her?” Kenzie asked, unsure why his answer was important to her. Couples married all the time under the guise of affection, and although it may not be present when the vows were first spoken, it didn’t mean that they weren’t present at all during the union. Love could grow, blossom out of the most unstable foundation.
“Aye, I cared for her a great deal and she, too, me. And then she died.”
“I’m sure…I’m certain she wouldn’t hold a grudge toward you for her death. You cannot think that she does.”
“Aye, ’tis exactly what I think, and it’s something that I have to live with each and every day.”
Ben walked off, leaving her to watch the dancing couples alone. He headed toward the stairs at the opposite end of the hall. She sighed, feeling for the man. Maybe her asking about his past had been wrong. Aline’s death and speaking of their time together was still too raw for the laird to face, which was understandable. His wife hadn’t been gone a year.
The night wore on and Kenzie left the celebration to continue without her. Some guests lay strewn across the floor beside the hall fires, while others drank at tables and laughed about numerous tales and adventures. Bidding Gwen and Braxton good night, Kenzie headed upstairs.
The sound of giggling coming from the first-floor landing made her pause. She continued on slowly, hoping she wasn’t about to walk in on a couple enjoying the dark solitude the floor granted and came face-to-face with Ben. He sat in a window alcove, the silver light of the moon kissing his bare chest while the maid she’d seen earlier at the church petted and giggled into his neck.
Kenzie stopped short, and she shut her mouth with a snap, hoping like hell that what her eyes were seeing wasn’t actually happening. And to think she’d been sorry for the man. She shook her head. What an idiot she was.
They finally noticed her presence. The smug glance from the giggling maid made Kenzie’s blood boil. “Apologies for interrupting. I’ll just continue on and leave you to it, shall I.” She threw Ben a scathing glance and received one in return. How dare he be annoyed with her! She wasn’t the one who had recently been almost-crying about a dead wife and now found it appropriate to fornicate with a maid in a window.
Making her room, Kenzie slammed her door, a pathetic, youthful reaction that she regretted immediately. The last thing Kenzie wanted Ben to think was that she cared what he did. Who he slept with. Who he kissed. As far as she was concerned, he could do whatever he wanted. After all, he only had another six months to live, he best get as many lays in as possible.
Shame washed over her at such a thought, and she ripped off her dress, kicking it across the floor toward the wardrobe. She pulled on a clean tunic she slept in and stoked her fire.
Venting her frustrations out on the charred wood with the poker, she soon had the red coals licking the kindling. “Not bad for a city girl, if I do say so myself.”
The door to her room opened with such force the handle smashed into the wall before it slammed closed again.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Get out.” Kenzie didn’t move, but just turned back to the fire, looking anywhere but toward the door where the Scot she was determined to hate stood.
“I just thought since ye slammed ye door closed, I should slam the door open.”
“Oh, aren’t you the joker.” Kenzie turned to face Ben. His shirt was back on, well, gaping open at the neck and allowing her to see his nicely formed chest and his bulging muscles. Not to mention he’d rolled up his sleeves, and her first thought was, this man is aware of what he does to women, and he uses his prowess to his advantage. “But now you can leave. Like I asked.”
“Ye seemed a little upset, lass. I thought ’twas best that I checked on ye.”
“Upset?” She paused, crossing her arms over her chest. “Over what?”
“Me and the servant lass that ye walked in on.” He stalked toward her, and Kenzie had the overwhelming urge to run. Seeing him again only confirmed his words. Yes, she was angry and damn it, jealous as well. So jealous that a woman was enjoying him, laughing with him, touching him, and it wasn’t her.
“Whatever, Ben. I’m sure given the size of your ego, you wouldn’t believe my denial, so I won’t waste my breath.” The air in the room seemed to evaporate as he stood before her. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, but also something else simmering in his dark gaze. Desire.
“Do ye deny it?” He watched her, his gaze intent and full of promise. What the promise would comprise was anyone’s guess, but Kenzie had a fair idea what she wanted it to lead to. It wasn’t like she’d never kissed a man before, and this one certainly looked like he wanted to kiss her.
But should she allow such intimacy? She wasn’t staying, and he was doomed to die if she couldn’t change history. Any emotional connection she could form toward this man would only end in pain and heartache. A kiss just wasn’t worth the angst. Not to mention, she’d just caught him in the arms of another woman. She wasn’t that desperate.
“Did ye enjoy your servant?” Kenzie said, mocking him with his Scottish brogue. Unfortunately, her attempt at a Scottish accent only seemed to please him.
“Not as much as I enjoyed ye voice just then.” He reached out and clasped her chin, lifting her face to look at him. “Ye’re so beautiful.”
The butterflies in Kenzie’s stomach went into overdrive, and she took a calming breath. “Your flattery will get you nowhere. And you’re drunk, so nothing you say can be held as truth.”
“Och, but this might.” Like a moth to a flame, Kenzie couldn’t pull away as she watched Ben lower his lips to hers.
This is bad. Very, very bad. I should stop him…
“Oh my. Apologies. Had I known you had company I would never have burst in so.”
Kenzie jumped back and tripped over the chair behind her, landing with a thump on her ass. The heat on her cheeks burned hotter than the flames behind her, and she couldn’t meet Gwen’s eyes. “No, I apologize. I’m not sure what I was doing actually…”
“Well, I could tell ye what you were about to do, if ye were confused.” Ben threw her a cocky grin and walked to the door. “Pleasant dreams, lass,” he said, closing the door behind him.
Kenzie bit her lip, knowing only too well her dreams wouldn’t be pleasant but frustrating instead. “I’m so sorry, Gwen. I’m not sure what came over me. I have no idea what the hell I was thinking.”
“The Laird of Ross looked like he was about to kiss ye, my dear. Care to tell me what’s happening between the pair of ye?” Gwen helped Kenzie to stand and then sat in one of the chairs before the hearth, gesturing for Kenzie to do the same.
She did, sitting and staring at the flames, anywhere other than Gwen. “It’s my fault. I got jealous seeing Ben with another woman.” She sighed, flopping back into her chair. “How ludicrous is that? Anyone would think I was a child the way I’m acting.”
“I know ye are not a child, lass.”
“I’m a woman who runs her own business,” she said. “This very house is rented out for weddings and events. And a bed and breakfast for those who wish to sleep within its walls. I allow people to come through here and see the wonderful history it holds. I’m about to expand my holdings and commence restoration of an estate south of here and do the same thing. I’m not a child, but the way I reacted in seeing Ben with that servant made me want to throw a tantrum like a spoiled little brat who didn’t get her own way.”
“Ben was doing what?” Gwen asked, her eyes wide with shock.
“They weren’t doing anything truly scandalous,” Kenzie said quickly, to dispel her ancestor’s horror, “but he did have a maid sitting on his lap and seemed to be enjoying being a typical male.”
Gwen’s eyes narrowed, but other than that, Kenzie found it hard to read the woman and what she thought of what the Laird of Ross was up to und
er her roof.
“I can see how the rascal can get under ye skin. He truly is a sweet man beneath all that armor he wears. And when you see the real Ben, there are few who wouldn’t be persuaded to fall for his spell.”
“You didn’t.” The words blurted from Kenzie, and in some small way, she supposed she wanted to know more about them, what had happened that stopped a marriage between the pair.
“I came to realize my feelings for Ben were only mediocre, at best. He was like a brother to me, a friend.” Gwen stared into the fire, lost in her own thoughts. “When I met Braxton, I knew my life would never be the same again. My heart stopped at the sight of him, and I realized it wouldn’t beat again until he was mine.”
Tears prickled Kenzie’s eyes at Gwen’s profession of love for husband. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything more beautiful in my life.”
“Well, I hope ye do, my dear, and from the man you choose to give your heart to.” Gwen leaned forward, suddenly serious. “Ye are to tell me if I need to prepare Braxton for an attachment between you and Ben.”
“Why would you need to prepare him? Does Braxton not like Ben?” Kenzie touched her temple, a little lightheaded at the thought that Ben was unwelcome here. Was there something Gwen wasn’t telling her? She’d thought they got along well. Was there some underlying jealousy on Braxton’s behalf in regard to Gwen?
“Och, he likes Ben well enough, but not enough for his descendant.” She smiled. “But if ye think a relationship with Ben would make ye happy, then we’ll support ye, for however long you’re here.”
“I only planned on staying a few months, and I’m not looking for a relationship with Ben. But there is something that I need to talk to you about, and I’m not sure how you’ll take it.” Most probably not well. With Ben being like a brother to Gwen, knowing what Kenzie was about to disclose would break her heart, if not send her into a panic. It wasn’t easy to say.
“You can tell me anything. I’ll never judge ye.”
