"What do you mean?" she asked, trying to keep her voice level although she could feel anger singing in her blood.
Thomas shook his head. "You know as well as I do that there's — suspicion raging about your connection to the pox going around… and to those poor young men's deaths."
"Thomas, what are you suggesting?" That was Connor at her side, anger in his voice — but above all, he looked shocked.
Thomas spread his hands, and she could tell he was conflicted. This wasn't something he wanted to do, she realized. This was something he'd been strong-armed into — by who? By his clientele?
"You know I don't believe it," he said in a low voice, clearly not wanting the listeners to hear this part. "I know you're no witch. But — I can't afford to have my patrons abandon me. And they won't be comfortable here while you're upstairs — not until you can clear your name, at any rate."
"And how am I meant to do that?" she snapped, feeling anger flaring to life in her chest. "Just how am I supposed to prove a negative? That I'm not a witch?"
"I don't know," Thomas said, shaking his head regretfully. "But you're no longer welcome in this establishment," he added firmly, raising his voice so they'd hear him inside — she scowled as a raucous cheer went up inside the building.
"Great," she snapped. "I do everything I can to help slow the spread of this disease, to teach you what I know about it — and I'm called a witch?"
"They don't think you're a witch, they're just — scared," Thomas said with a grimace.
Connor was shaking with anger at her side, and she put a hand on his arm as he started forward, clearly about to give the innkeeper a piece of his mind.
"Connor — don't. Thomas is right. They're just scared. And making a fuss is only going to scare them more," she said, fighting her own fury. "We should just — go. I don't want them thinking I've bewitched you," she added with a roll of her eyes.
And with that, they turned and walked away from the inn, leaving an apologetic Thomas and a leering, booing crowd behind them. Connor was carrying her box full of clothing for her, and she could see from the whiteness of his knuckles on the box that he was gripping it hard enough to hurt. Still angry with Thomas… and she couldn't bring herself to talk him down from that anger, either. As much empathy as she might try to exercise for the villagers, grieving and frightened, the injustice of it all was what was most frustrating. She hadn't done anything wrong… she'd been trying to help… and what, they were going to run her out of town?
"Where am I going to stay?" she asked blankly, staring around the streets of the village, which felt curiously deserted. Was everyone at the inn, celebrating her expulsion from it? A flare of anger struck at that thought… her frustration was getting worse and worse. And Connor looked angry, too, shaking his head.
"That coward," he said in a low voice.
"I mean… he was letting me stay for free," she pointed out, trying to be reasonable, though part of her was secretly thrilled that he was so angry on her behalf. "It wasn't like I was a paying customer."
"Stay with me," he said abruptly, his gray eyes fierce. "I've a cottage all to myself here in town, you'll be more than welcome there."
Chapter 34
Karen looked up at him, a little surprised by the offer. She'd gotten the idea that he was a little worried about the village gossips when it came to the amount of time they spent together… whatever would they say if she stayed with him? "Aren't you worried about what people might say?"
"Aye, I used to worry about that," he said, his jaw tight with anger. "But now I don't give a toss what they think. Bunch of utter fools, spurning the woman who's trying to help them…" He hesitated. "But if you're not comfortable with that, Karen… we can ride straight up to the castle now. They've always got spare quarters somewhere — you'd have your own space."
She cleared her throat, feeling a pang of sadness at the idea of being so far away from him. "I kind of need to be in the village," she said quickly, telling herself that what she was saying was true, that she wasn't just trying to come up with excuses that would let her stay with him, alone, in his cottage, where his bed was… "If I'm going to keep an eye on the epidemic…"
"Aye, that's true," he said, looking at her with unmistakable hope in his eyes. "I mean, I know it's not ideal, but I'm a reasonably tidy man. You won't be picking up after me if that's what you're worried about. And it's only for a short time — until Thomas sees sense, or I beat some into him," he added darkly, shooting a glance back over his shoulder toward the inn.
"If you don't mind," she said softly, shrugging a little helplessly. "I'd love to stay with you, Connor."
"Then it's settled." He smiled at her, the anger and frustration still clear on his face — but then he offered her his arm and she took it, feeling a little thrill run down her spine at the heat of his body. They walked together through the streets in pleasant silence, and he soon stopped at the door to a quaint little cottage like many of the others, if a little more run-down looking. There was a little stone path that led to the door and the front yard was neatly kept.
"It's not much," he said with a shrug. "An old man lived here for the longest time — I'd just moved to a permanent position in the Watch here in town when he passed away, and his family were happy for me to take the place over."
It was a tiny little cottage, feeling somehow even more crowded than Maggie's despite there being far less furniture… but it was cozy, and she was grateful to have a place to stay. He cleared out space in a drawer for her to store her clothes and showed her to the bedroom, where she hesitated before he leapt to assure her that he'd be sleeping on the floor and she'd be taking the bed. She protested — but he was adamant. A treacherous part of her remarked that there was a much easier solution that wouldn't leave either of them with a bad back from sleeping on the cold ground… but she shushed it firmly, her heart pounding. Being alone with him was one thing… being alone with him in the privacy of his cottage was quite another.
"I tell you what," he said once she'd put her things away. They were standing in the cozy little main room, Connor knelt by the fire and coaxing it to life. The afternoon had come over chilly, and she appreciated the warmth of the fire.
"What?"
"I could use a drink after all that," he said with his gray eyes twinkling, reaching into a basket beside the fire and withdrawing a bottle that looked just like the one they'd taken as a gift to Maggie. Her eyes widened.
"God, me too," she breathed.
He grinned at her, handing the bottle to her as he settled into a chair by the fire. She sat beside him and they passed the bottle back and forth, warming themselves with sips of spicy mead and the flickering warmth of the little fire. As frustrated and exhausted as she was from the conflict outside the inn, part of her was absolutely thrilled with how this had turned out. Now she had even more excuses to see him, to talk to him, to spend long evenings together… and she could tell by the sidelong looks he was shooting her that he felt the same way.
"I suppose I should figure out my own place at some point," she said softly, her mind drifting away toward the future. "As well as something to do with myself…"
"You plan to stay in town?" he asked, glancing over at her.
She nodded, then shrugged her shoulders. "I mean, it's not as though I know where else to go," she admitted. "And as frustrating as it is that everyone thinks I'm a witch… they're wrong, and they'll see that sooner rather than later. I'm not going to leave town just because they've made such a stupid mistake. That would be letting them win. Besides, it's pretty clear this town's in bad need of a doctor."
He tilted his head, looking curious, a smile dancing across his lips. "You're a remarkable woman, Karen Frakes."
"Is that so?" She forced herself to make eye contact despite how hard her heart was pounding. The mead was helping, making her feel more brave…
He nodded, not looking away. "Aye, it is. These villagers have been hostile, ignorant cowards… and you're st
ill thinking about how you're going to help them once they've gotten over their own stupidity. Plenty of other people would have just left… myself included. You're inspiring."
She blushed, feeling a little embarrassed by the warmth of his gaze. "Well, I swore an oath," she murmured, thinking back to her med school days. "I mean, I didn't officially swear it, but… doctors are meant to help. That's our whole job — the whole reason we exist, why we do what we do, is to help people. We don't do it for acclaim, or gratitude, or money…" She sighed. "Lord knows med school's the most expensive thing I've ever done. I'd have gone to business school if I'd wanted to make money. No, I want to help. And sometimes helping means being patient with people who don't understand the nature of that help."
He smiled, something clearly occurring to him. "That's exactly how I feel about my own work — the Clan's work."
"What do you mean?" She turned to him, a little surprised by the comparison, and he leaned forward to explain.
"We do what we do to protect the people of the village, right? It's about keeping them safe from the creatures on the other side of the Burgh. Half the time they don't even know how close those beasties came to harming or killing them or someone they loved… and they grumble and complain about us riding around town, taking up space, bossing them around… but we protect them because it's our sworn duty, not because we need their praise. Or even their approval."
"I hear that," she said softly with a smile. "You know, in my time we've all but eradicated a lot of very serious diseases? All you need is a tiny little injection when you're little, and you'll never get polio, or whooping cough, or measles… But there's a group of people who've decided that that injection is evil, and that doctors are lying to them about how important it is, and they refuse to get it done. They'd rather have polio."
"That's absurd," he said, shaking his head. "But not surprising."
"No?"
"I mean, look at how these people are responding to you." He sighed, shaking his head. "I suppose five hundred years isn't long enough to change people."
They sat in gloomy silence for a long time, gazing into the fire. As much as Karen was warmed by Connor's sympathy and understanding, she couldn't help but feel pretty dejected and miserable about the whole situation. It was difficult enough dealing with what faced them… now they had to contend with hostile villagers, too?
Chapter 35
They kept chatting as the afternoon wore on, and she felt her spirits begin to lift despite her dejection. Connor was just such pleasant company… and the mead was helping, too, easing the anxiety she usually felt around him and loosening her tongue. They found themselves talking about love and romance — she was a little embarrassed to admit how few stories she had to tell.
"Truly? Nobody serious? A woman like you wasn't snapped up by some lucky man the minute he met you?"
Connor's cheeks were flushed, and his hair had come down a little and was falling in his handsome face — he looked so gorgeously disheveled that she could barely bring herself to look at him for fear of what her face might give away.
"I never had time," she protested with a laugh, waving a hand. "I mean, I went on dates here and there, had a few reasonably long-term relationships… but never much longer than a year. I mean, it's hard to date a doctor who travels all the time. I was always stressed and exhausted from work or traveling all over the country for internships or placements or study programs… and by the time I got my current position, well." She sighed, taking another sip of mead, and discovering to her surprise that the bottle was nearly empty. Had they really finished the whole thing between them? "Married to the job, I guess," she concluded heavily. "What about you? What's your excuse?"
"What excuse do I need to live the romantic life of a bachelor?" he countered her, gesturing around his little cottage in an imperious way that made her giggle. But his smile faded a little and he shrugged his shoulders, suddenly looking a little solemn. "I'll admit, Karen, I used to be a bit of a cad. I don't know if you've heard stories, but as a young man I was always chasing women."
"And catching them, so I've heard," she said before she could stop herself.
He raised an eyebrow at her, and she lowered her gaze, a little embarrassed.
"Am I wrong?"
"Didn't know you'd been investigating me so thoroughly," he said, but his voice was amused and not annoyed so she let herself relax. "Anyone would think you had an ulterior motive."
"Would they now?" she challenged him, looking straight back at him. And maybe it was the mead loosening her inhibitions, or just the force of the built-up anticipation of the weeks they'd spend with each other, but suddenly, looking in his eyes, she knew that he wanted her exactly as much as she wanted him… and it felt utterly ridiculous that neither of them had acted on it yet. So, before she could stop herself, or hesitate, or overthink it, she leaned over and closed the space between them, sealing their lips together in a kiss.
She could sense how shocked he was in the way he seemed to freeze when she kissed him, and for a long, frightening moment she was convinced she'd misread things catastrophically. What if he wasn't interested at all? What if this was a terrible mistake — what if she were about to make thing horrendously awkward for them both? She'd have to leave, she thought dizzily — have to move to another village and forget that any of this had happened… but then, giving her a sense of relief stronger than she'd ever felt before, she felt his hand come up to cup the back of her neck and pull her closer to him, his other hand on her shoulder as he deepened the kiss, his lips somehow rough and soft and exactly what she needed. They kissed for what felt like hours before he broke away, his hand still on her neck, and she could feel his breath hot and scorching against her lips and her whole body vibrating with delight at what had finally, finally happened —
"I've been wanting to do that since we met," he said softly, his voice hoarse in the quiet atmosphere of the cottage.
She felt a smile break out across her face. "Me too," she admitted, hearing her own voice tremble a little with the force of what she was holding back. "I thought — I don't know. I thought you were just being polite."
He laughed breathlessly, then pulled her to him. "I suppose I'd best stop being so polite, then," he growled, sending lightning shooting down her spine — and then he was kissing her again, and somehow they found their way out of the chairs and onto the floor in front of the fire, where somehow he'd managed to spread out his cloak to protect them from the cold floor.
It felt unbelievably good to be in his arms like this, to have his body pressed up against hers… she sighed with pleasure as he held her close, laying her down on the cloak and pressing himself down against her as they kissed.
Without even realizing it, she felt her hands moving as though they had a life of their own, stealing across his back, across his chest, unfastening the clothing he was wearing — needing little encouragement, he reached up to help her, and it wasn't long before she'd successfully disrobed him. Looking up at him was… overwhelming. He smiled down at her, his hair loose from its restraints, his gray eyes shining… she ran her hands tentatively across his shoulders, the broad muscles of his back, his powerful chest, his muscular torso…
Then they were kissing again, more urgently than before, and any shyness she might have felt was banished by the warm buzz of the mead and the overwhelming knowledge that she trusted this man more than many others she'd met. He moved slowly and carefully, never pressing any boundary she even hinted at, not pushing her to do anything she didn't volunteer to do… and it wasn't long before she sat up, impatient with how gentlemanly he was being, and ripped off the tunic she was wearing, baring her body before him. He gazed at her for a long moment, the firelight flickering from their skin — and then he was on top of her again, his hands roaming, his lips against hers, then breaking away to kiss her throat, her chest, to take her nipples into his mouth and send lightning waves of pleasure shooting down her body…
Clothes were ridicu
lous, she decided as she kicked her boots off and struggled with her pants. Why did anyone bother with them? They just got in the way… held her back from what she really wanted, which was Connor's hands all over her. She felt like she'd been holding herself back for a thousand years, and now that he was finally here, finally as close to her as she wanted him, she could barely restrain herself, impatiently dragging at his clothes until they were both as naked as they day they were born. His arms around her, his lips on her throat… her whole body thrilled to his touch, and when his hand slid down her hip and curled around to her sex, it was all she could do not to groan at the gentle, careful way he teased her lips apart and began to pleasure her…
It was too much — she couldn't wait for him, not for another second. She took his ear in her mouth and nibbled at the sensitive lobe, drawing a choked-off moan from him as she reached down with one hand to grasp his manhood firmly, to whisper a plea in his ear that he was all too happy to oblige. Before she knew it, she felt him slide himself inside her and her eyes rolled back in her head with how good it felt, how utterly indulgent the sensation was of him inside her…
So, the afternoon wore on as they explored each other, finally giving way to what both of them had wanted since they'd met. And when she finally drifted off into an exhausted post-coital nap, she felt at peace for perhaps the first time since she'd gotten here.
Chapter 36
She woke up feeling disoriented. There was a loud knocking that had pulled her from her sleep… but something was strange. This wasn't her little room at the inn… it was too big, and the fireplace was too close… and what was more, there were arms around her, a sleeping form in the bed beside her… wait, not the bed. She was lying on the floor, wrapped in a cloak and the arms of a sleeping man… and someone was trying to beat the door down. Karen sat up blearily as the last few hours returned to her, feeling her mind slowly surfacing from a deep, hypnotic sleep. She smiled a little as she looked at Connor, the memory of their lovemaking not far from her mind… but frowned as the knocking recommenced, louder this time and accompanied by angry shouts.
Troubled By The Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Highlander Forever Book 6) Page 14