“Yes, please,” she said suddenly, then ducked her head with faint red on her cheeks. “I think… it’s best for me to have trousers on from now on.”
The image of her in his clothes made something primal surge up in Angus’ chest and he smiled smugly. “I will need to get a belt for ye, lass. My clothes will swim on ye.”
“Erm, I think that will be best,” she said shyly. “Where is the tub?”
“In that corner,” Angus said. “I’ll go get the belt and send up the soup for us when I get back. Should I get one of the servant women to help ye?”
“No,” she shook her head. “I think I can manage.”
He reached out and took her foot in one hand, admiring her slender feet, small ankle, and shapely toes. Her breath hitched and he did not hide his smile. “I’ll get ye some soft shoes, too. Boots will damage yer lovely skin.”
“Thank you,” she said, as he slowly dropped her foot.
Rising, he bowed his head, and with a smile, patted his pocket and left the room. He closed the door behind him and went to the front room where he came across the proprietor again, “Listen closely, if anyone but me goes into that room, there will be hell to pay. Ye ken?”
The man nodded, slightly pale. “Yes, Me Laird.”
“See that ye do,” Angus warned again, eyes narrowed.
Chapter 7
“He’s a Laird,” Magdalene murmured while disrobing and resting the tattered gown to the floor near the tub of warm water. She did not know what stroke of luck had put the man into her way but she was grateful for it.
Looking at the tub, she sighed and the exhaustion from riding three sixteen-hour days to Scotland on her horse Mary had begun to set in. Her mother had sent her off in the middle of the night with a page boy to follow her out of England. With a faded and worn gown—used as a disguise to stop highwaymen and other blackguards from seeing her as a rich target—a thick cloak over it to hide her hair, she had left her home and mother behind.
Her mother had given her a few gold coins that she had used for Inns and food in her hasty journey to Edinburgh and her aunt. From what her mother had told her, Aunt Perse was further into Scotland than Edinburgh and she wondered how she could get there.
Mayhap Laird Williamson of Ratagan… Angus could help me to get there.
She swallowed tightly over a dry throat. It felt inconceivable to her that just weeks ago her life had been so lovely but now, it was on upside down. If it was not for Angus’ help her life would be worse than topsy-turvy. She’s probably be dead.
I must thank him for his help.
Bracing her hands on the rim of the tub, she slowly lowered herself into the warm water and hissed out a breath of relief when the welcomed heat penetrated her skin. Oh God above, this is heaven. Sinking to the bottom, she lolled her head back as the soothing heat unlocked her tight muscles.
Angus’ eyes were such a shade of gentle blue when he looked at her that it was hard for her to reconcile the cutting ice they had been when he had accosted the men who were about to harm her. When he had sent them off running, Angus had swung from an avenger to a comforter in a heartbeat. She faintly remembered being carried in his arms and then being laid on a soft surface—the same bed she had woken upon.
Reaching for the soap, she inhaled the soft olive and jasmine oil smell in happiness. She made a lather and managed to wash and rinse her hair first. Then, gathering the washcloth, she lathered it heavily to scrub herself off and felt relief when the dirt caked on her skin washed away. It felt good to be clean.
She was stepping out when the door pushed open and she froze, one leg out and over the tub when Angus’ eyes met hers. She could feel his eyes running over her bare body, flitting over her breasts, over her flat stomach and down to her mound. She immediately plopped herself back into the tub, face burning scarlet. Angus seemed to come to his senses, jerked his head away, stepped out of the room, and closed the door quickly behind him.
Magdalene sat there, her heart hammering and face burning in mortification. How much had he seen?
No man had ever seen her unclothed in her life. She wondered if it would be more merciful for the two of them if she sank into the bathwater and inhaled a lungful.
Time ticked by and the water was cooling around her, and if she stayed too long, soon she would be shivering. Her eyes darted to the door, fearing him coming back inside just as she was going to get up again but she had to. It was cruel to let the man stay outside longer than he had to.
Perhaps we can just pretend it never happened? Please God, let it be so.
She quickly clambered out of the tub and dried off with the towel that had come with the bathtub and the soap. Angus had left out the trousers and shirt on a chair so she dressed in them. Rubbing her hair vigorously to dry it, she finger-combed it out and shook the tresses out to her shoulder.
Inching towards the door, and swallowing over her dry throat, she grasped the handle and tugged it out. Angus was sitting on the floor, pressed against the opposite wall, and looked up when the door scraped over the floor.
His eyes looked up with a wordless question.
“You may come in.”
Stepping back, Magdalene kept her eyes on the floor, eyes tracing the faded swirls of the wood under her feet. She was not prepared for Angus to knuckle her head up to look at him. “Dinnae be afraid of me, lass.”
Relief coursed through her—if he was willing to not mention her nudity, then she was happy to do the same. She smiled softly as he handed her a bag. “A belt and some shoes for ye.”
“Thank you,” she said while digging into the bag and pulling out the belt.
The strip of leather was sturdy and she ran it through her hands. She then looped it around her waist and pressed the buckle against her belly to measure it.
“Give it to me,” Angus said.
She handed it to him and he slipped a tiny knife out of his boot and punched a hole through the leather where she had looped it, and then handed it back. A knock on the door came while she was fastening her clothes. Angus answered it and accepted two bowls of soup and hunks of bread with thanks to the unseen person. He settled them on the table.
“I expect ye to be hungry, innit?”
“Yes, I am,” she said while sitting. “Thank you.”
Magdalene ate, grateful that she was having something easy on the stomach while pretending to not feel the Scotsman’s eyes on her face. The look felt warm and inquisitive and she did not know if she could reply to the questions resting there.
Confliction was warring in her mind. She had to get to her aunt but she did not want to leave Angus so quickly. The man had saved her life and she felt that she owed him… something. But what?
“Is it only Magdalene or is it Lady Magdalene?” Angus asked quietly.
Magdalene stilled, “Why do you think I am a lady?”
His laugh was quiet, “Lass, yer skin is as soft as butter, yer nails are shaped in half-moons, and if there’s a single callus on yer feet, give me a purple cloak and a jeweled scepter because I am the King of England. I am soldier-trained, lass. I notice things.”
She sighed in resignation, “It is the latter. My father is…was the Baron of Keswick. I am his only daughter, and I’m not a lady yet.”
“Then why are ye here, in Edina?” Angus’ rumbling voice sent shivers through her.
“My mother sent me to stay with my Aunt because my Uncle, who came to the Barony to take it over after my Father’s death, was about to force me to marry one of his men but I refused,” Magdalene admitted, more to the table than to Angus.
“How old are ye?” He asked.
This time she dared look up to see only quiet inquisitiveness. “Twenty.”
His eyebrows darted up, “Twenty ye say. Aye lass, back home men would have lined up to marry ye years ago. Ye truly are beautiful. Why did ye wait so long to get married?”
“I—” she blinked. “I cannot really tell you why. My father had not pressed the issue much
when I was growing up and my mother obeyed him. I was not around men much, either…” she laughed softly. “Well, not men of marrying age. Most of the men surrounding my father were three times my age, most married, or widowed. I always suspected my father would make me marry a son of the men he trusted but… he died before he could do so. I know many others would have been married off at six-and-ten, but…” her slim shoulders shrugged.
Angus’ hum was a deep rumble. “Mayhap for good reason. Mayhap none of the men there were the best for ye.”
Is he trying to tell me that… what is he trying to tell me?
“I suppose,” she muttered. “I could not marry then though; my heart was not in it. I do need to get to my Aunt, though. I haven’t seen her in years.”
“Where is this Aunt of yers?” Angus asked.
“Somewhere named Seabhag Crag,” Magdalene said, with a downturn of her lips. “I don’t know where that is. I had planned to ask someone to show me the way.”
“I live a stone’s throw away from Seabhag Crag,” Angus said. “Would ye like to come to me home for a while before going to her, or would ye like me to take ye there immediately?”
He’s offering for me to stay at his home?
“Why should I stay with you?” Instantly, she cringed. That sounded very ungrateful.
“No offense, lassie,” Angus said reaching out to touch her cheek. “Yer still banged up. I dinnae ken any loving Aunt of yers would like to see ye black and blue. I’d rather ye heal up first.”
He made sense but she could easily heal at her Aunt’s home. Her hand drifted up as their eyes locked. She could easily say no. It would prove her training right if she said no to staying in a strange man’s home. She should say no, but she did not. It felt ungrateful of her to deny such a reasonable request.
“I think so, too,” she said, trying to move her eyes from Angus’ but could not. His eyes were so lovely to look into.
“Aye,” Angus’ grin was lopsided as his thumb ran over her cheekbone, making her heart thump just a little harder, “Aye, lassie.”
It was time to look away and she did, though her heart still hiccupped. She looked down at the trousers she had on, cinched a little comically at the waist. Angus’ shirt’s sleeves billowed around her shoulders and arms and though it was unheard of for a woman to be this comfortable in men’s clothes, she was.
“Where is your home?” she asked.
“Far north of here,” Angus said wistfully. “In the Highlands against some of the most marvelous lochs in Scotland.”
“That sounds lovely,” Magdalene admitted. “What more is there?”
Angus settled back into his seat and began a vivid description of his home, speaking in reminiscent tones, describing his clan home and the village below it. He spoke of the ragged spits of the dark hills around it, their peaks jutting up into the sky like pikes. He spoke about the wide rolling meadows that were clothed with bright wildflowers for miles upon miles. While he was still speaking, Magdalene began to drift off. His voice was low, melodic, and sounded like a lullaby to her.
She barely felt it when arms slipped under her back and knees and lifted her to the middle of the bed, but she did reach out. Her hand was taken and kissed on the back before a sheet was tugged over her.
“Sleep well, lass.”
Her mind was quiet that night, leaden exhaustion dragged her down into a deep sleep.
A familiar touch woke her and she stirred with small sniffles and reluctant eyes blinking open. Angus’ gaze met hers and her heart leaped into her throat. Sleep disappeared from her in the next heartbeat and she sat up.
“Angus?”
“It’s dawn, lassie,” Angus said. “I went out to find yer horse last night after ye fell asleep but she’s gone. Was there anything valuable on her?”
She shook her head, “No. I had spent all my money when those men dragged me off Mary. She was faithful and obedient to me…she will be missed.”
“Ah, well then. Are ye ready for breakfast and then journeying to me home?” He asked.
“Already?” Honestly, she should have predicted it but it still came as a shock. Angus’ eyebrow lifted in expectancy and she nodded, “Forgive me. I’m ready to go with you to your home.”
“I’ll send for some washing water for ye,” Angus smiled. “And a light breakfast, too.”
He left the room and she sat up, shucking the sheets off her and gravitated to the window. The Inn had a tiny backyard but not even ten feet away from the grassy square, the property was hemmed in by other buildings. A ridge of mountains was to the north and a forest was to the east. She had no remembrance of where she had ridden in from.
“Lassie, yer water is here,” Angus said from behind her.
With a last look to the tiny backyard, Magdalene went back across the room to the basin that rested on the table. She washed her face and rinsed out her mouth, the touch of the cool water waking her up even more. A woman came to their room with two plates of toast, a bowl of preserves, and cups of warm milk.
“This is… very English,” she said in delighted surprise.
Angus smiled that crooked grin that sent her heart into leaps. “I thought ye would like it.”
She looked back on her plate and felt a warmth spread through her. “I do, thank you. Are Scottish breakfasts different from this?”
He hummed. “Nae much. We do tend to go heavier on the meats and porridge but our breakfasts are basically the same.”
Magdalene slathered the toast with the sweet preserves and bit into it, humming under her breath in appreciation. It was a taste of home and she did truly appreciate it. However, in a few days, she would experience Scottish meals and she began to anticipate those, too.
She wanted to see the bright flowers in the meadows and the unfathomable depths of the lochs. She wanted to gaze upon the jutted mountain peaks and feel bumps erupt on her skin from the cold loch mist. She wanted to see the real Scotland and knew Angus was the man who was going to show her it.
Angus, who was only sipping his tea, had a contemplative frown on his face. “Ye rode from England here, aye?”
It was not much of a question. “Yes, I began riding when I was a child with ponies and grew into bigger horses.”
“Would ye prefer if I got ye a horse or would ye like to ride with me? Me horse, Titan, can carry three times our weight.”
Magdalene swallowed over the lump in her throat. Could she ride with him? His arm would be around her and her back would be on his body. How would she react to such close contact after all that she’d been through with men? She might be brave enough to visit his home but she was not that daring to ride with him.
“A horse would be good,” Magdalene said. “But I don’t want to put you out of money. A horse is expensive.”
His lips twitched, “Dae ye forget that I’m a Laird, lassie? I’ll probably be offered the horse free of cost.”
“Oh,” she shook her head, placated. “I understand. Then a horse would be good, thank you.”
“I’ll get a mare for ye,” Angus said while standing. His body unfolded smoothly, the long golden muscles of his legs topped with the broad spans of his chest and wide shoulders. His magnificent body was crowned with wild red hair and sapphire eyes that never failed to make her chest constrict.
He reached out and fingered a lock of her hair, his rough fingertips a rugged touch on her cheek. His touch sent warm ripples through her body, too, and they concentrated in her stomach. “I’ll be back in a moment. Get yerself ready to go, lassie.”
What am I thinking about this man? I’ve never felt emotions for Sir Irgon like this and now….
Magdalene watched him leave with indecision in her chest. When he was gone, she stood and plaited her hair into a neat braid. She took another look out the window, and her eyes ran over the houses there to the hills far over. They were shrouded with mist and she wondered if they had to pass through them on their way to Angus’ home.
Angus came back smiling
, “We’re all set, lassie.”
Before he turned away, she came closer, close enough to see the dark brown lowlights in his hair and the tiny green fleck in his eyes, “Thank you for saving me. If you hadn’t—” Despicable images ran through her mind at what would have been her fate if Angus had not shown up when he had and she began to shiver.
Angus’ head tilted to the side and a slow smile stretched his lips as he reached forward and pulled her into his arms. Her body laid on his perfectly, and his chin brushed the top of her hair before his lips were pressed on her forehead. She shivered.
The Highlander's Fiery Bride: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 6