“Lass, I think ye’re wanting this back.”
Deirdre raised her eyes and caught her breath when she saw a face not much older than hers but resembled Adonis or Apollo from her books. The only difference in her mind was that she readily preferred the head of dark waves to the golden curls in the illustrations. She gulped before she could respond.
“Thank ye. I was most distraught.” She could not bring herself to look him in the eye. Her stomach suddenly felt like a flock of sparrows was flying about. However, when she heard a soft chuckle, her eyes darted up to glare at the owner of the offensive sound.
“Ye dinna seem that distraught, lass. Put out, perhaps. Even peeved, but definitely nae distraught. It isnae some great catastrophe.”
“Says ye,” she bit out between clenched teeth. “I have been working on this since sunrise. Vellum is vera expensive, and these books belong to ma father. He willna be pleased if they come back dirty and marred.” She bent to begin restacking the books.
“I didna mean to say they werenae important. I simply meant that ye didna overreact as some lasses might. Please let me help ye. Ma arms are longer.”
Everything is longer. He canna be that much older than me, but he’s gigantic. Does he have to be so braw? How is he so large? Fie! Why am I standing here gauping at him?
“I would vera much appreciate yer help. Everything was much easier to carry out this morning when the parchment didna have wet ink on them. Now I canna stack them and dinna have enough hands to hold it all.”
Magnus simply nodded as he squatted to gather all the books. He tucked the entire pile under one arm, and Deirdre’s eyes widened to see the ease with which he lifted something that was a burden for her.
Magnus bent down again and picked up two sheets of parchment that looked to be mostly dry. He turned them back to back and held them up.
“Ye have a vera fine script.”
“Ye’re kind to notice. It’s in Latin,” she finished quietly. She did not want to insult the young man, but she doubted he would know what the marks meant.
“Aye, and the one by yer feet is in Greek and the first one I picked up was in French. Two of these books are in Italian, one in Spanish, another two in Aramaic. I must admit that the two in Aramaic were the hardest ones for me to learn. I didna care for them overly much.”
Magnus turned to walk towards the keep. He could not keep from grinning when he knew the girl stood staring at his retreating back. He had known from the start she would assume he was illiterate. His size meant that most people took him to be lumbering and dimwitted at worst and a farm laborer at best. Most did not know he was the fourth son of a powerful laird.
Deirdre dashed to keep up with the long strides of this strange young man who had not bothered to introduce himself and now possessed her hard work and treasured resources.
“Ye’re familiar with some of these texts? The ones in Aramaic are rather rare.”
“Aye, there are only five known copies of that set anywhere in the Christian world. One is in England, one is in Spain, and two are in Scotland. Who do ye suppose owns the other set if ye have one of them?”
“Ye?” She asked in disbelief.
“Well, ma da does. We were all made to study them, but they technically belong to him.”
“Who is yer da? Ye havenae even introduced yerself.”
“Neither have ye.”
“I shouldnae even be talking to ye without a fromal introduction by a chaperone.”
“But ye are. We can walk back in silence if ye prefer.”
“That isnae what I meant, I ken ye ken that.”
“I am simply trying to come to yer aid. Ye seemed in need of an extra set of hands. I dinna think ye were too picky, nor do I think ye believed me to be worth much company before this moment.”
His accurate assessment of her first impression and her desire to make it back to the keep with any available help stunned Deirdre. She did not realize that she had stopped dead in her tracks until he looked back over his shoulder and nodded his head towards the keep. Once again, she found herself jogging to catch up.
“Deirdre. Deirdre Fraser.”
“Och, ye’re the lass Laird Fraser was going on aboot. I’m Magnus Sinclair.”
“Ye ken ma father? He was talking aboot me?”
“Aye. Only good things mind ye, but he said yer head was in the clouds and that yer mother had her work cut out for her.”
Deirdre jerked her chin back and narrowed her eyes. She was not sure who annoyed her most: her father for insulting her, her mother for always seeming inconvenienced by her, or this Magnus Sinclair who dared to repeat such an insult.”
“Is now when ye’re going to actually become distraught? He said it lovingly before one and all. There isnae a doubt in anyone’s mind that yer father dotes on ye.”
“One and all? Anyone’s mind? Just how many people were there when he said this.”
Magnus could hear the change in her voice and knew she was on the edge of actually being distraught. If his hands were not full, he could have slapped himself for being so insensitive as to repeat what he now realized was an exceedingly backhanded compliment.
“Deirdre, I am sorry. I realize I shouldnae repeated what I heard. Out of context, it doesnae seem vera kind, and ye father wasnae trying to speak ill of ye. I apologize for upsetting ye.” Magnus stopped and turned to face her.
He had already taken in her wild and curly hair that blew about in the breeze and showed she had run her hands through it numerous times. He had already counted the ink smears on her nose, cheeks, forehead, and chin. There were seven. He noticed her petite and slight frame as only an adolescent boy moving into manhood would. But he had not taken in the brilliance of her blue hazel eyes. They were the North Sea on a bright and clear day. He had seen the sea almost every day of his life whenever he looked from his chamber window. The blues and greens of her eyes matched the water on a calm day. As he looked at her longer, he felt himself slipping into their depths just as he did when he and his siblings went swimming in the chilly waters. He nearly shook his head when he realized how close he was to letting go of the parchment to wipe the ink from her face.
She is the bonniest lass I have seen here. I thought I would always prefer them buxom like the lass last eve, but she far exceeds the likes of any woman I have met before. I rather liked our banter too. She might be someone intelligent enough to talk with. Mairghread is off again with that lass she met from who kens which clan. Strange that the lass never wears a plaid.
Magnus found his mind wandering. He looked down again at Deirdre.
I dinna care what ma sister is up to. She can occupy herself with her friend, and I willnae have to babysit her. I can talk to Deirdre instead.
Magnus pulled himself back to the moment and smiled down at Deirdre.
“If ye will forgive me, perhaps we could meet on the morrow to discuss why ye’ve been scribbling away like a monk. I wouldnae mind learning what ye consider to be yer life’s work.”
“How do ye ken I consider it that?”
“It’s clear it holds tremendous importance to ye beyond the cost of the vellum and books.”
“Aye. Well, perhaps. I intend to work under the tree again.”
“Ye dinna plan to attend the games?”
“Nay. I ken what happens. The running, the archery, the caber. Naught new,” dismissive of the purpose of the Highland Gathering.
“Och, but ye havenae ever seen me compete before.”
Why did I just say that? Haud yer wheesht, mon, before ye’re inviting her to watch.
“I’m competing in the foot race, the caber toss, and dirk toss. Mayhap I could interest ye in taking a break for a wee moment.”
Didna I say mum’s the word? Now I’ve done it.
Deirdre tilted her head to one side as she examined Magnus to the point where he wanted to shuffle his feet. Suddenly, the collar of his leine felt too tight.
“Nay. But thank ye all the same. I can al
ready tell ye will win them all. I havenae the time to watch others compete when the winner is a foregone conclusion. Even if it’s ye.” Deirdre felt her cheeks heat as the last sentence slipped out as more of a murmur.
“Thank ye for yer vote of confidence. I willna pester ye any longer.”
They reached the doors to the keep, and Magnus checked the ink. It was dry, so he handed the books back to Deirdre and put the sheets on top. He bowed from the waist and walked away. He left Deirdre standing alone staring after his retreating form. She could have kicked herself all the way up the stairs to her chamber where she changed to prepare for the feast.
He’s the only one near ma age who’s been nice. And I turned down his offer when he was just trying to be friendly. Fool!
Magnus stood around the Fraser’s Great Hall with his three older brothers and several other older lads and young men. Bored and hungry, which was his usual state of being, Magnus’s encounter with Deirdre Fraser still weighed on his mind.
“Are ye going to the mead tent again this evening? Or shall we try the tavern in the village? The wench I tupped last eve offered me another go. I plan to take her up on it.” Tavish asked Magnus quietly.
“Aye, I’ll go, but I dinna ken if I’m in the mood for tupping any barmaids. Mairghread catching me at home has soured ma taste on them. Mayhap there’s a servant aboot who might be interested.” Magnus knew as he spoke, he was not telling the truth. He was not particularly interested in bedding anyone who did not have blue hazel eyes. He felt a wave of guilt and disgust roll over him when he remembered that the girl he met that afternoon had to be at least a few years younger than him.
Ye’re too young to be a lecher. And she’s far too young, and she’s the laird’s daughter. She isnae some whore I can bed for a copper.
“I like ma women to have a wee more substance to them. Aye, one set of tits is usually as good as another as long as they’re big enough for me to find them.” Magnus heard one of the other young men comment as he forced himself to bring his mind back to the group.
“Aye, an arse and tits are all a mon really needs if it isnae food or time in the lists,” another lad said as he adjusted his crotch.
Magnus looked at his other brothers. They might talk about women among themselves, but not in such crass terms. Magnus saw Alex cock his head and nod for them to go. Magnus was just about to agree, but the next comment had him pause.
“The laird’s daughter might come with a healthy dowry, but who would want to bed her? She’s thinner than a maypole. Ye wouldnae ken if ye were holding her from the front or the back.” Magnus bristled as he heard the others laugh.
“Och, as long as each hole works, it doesnae matter which is the front or the back.”
Magnus opened his mouth to chastise the lads, but his height afforded him the ability to see past their shoulders to a face that was stark white with shock and humiliation. Deirdre’s face was set in a mask, but the color came rushing back as her face turned crimson. She spun on her heels and ran towards a darkened passageway.
“Ye arse! She heard ye.”
Magnus drew his fist back and slammed it in the young man’s stomach who just spoke. He threw a fist into the mouth of the other lad who began the rude comments about Deirdre. Magnus pushed past his brothers and ran to catch up with her. He saw a brief gleam of moonlight as a door opened and shut with enough force to echo. He sprinted to the end and pushed open the door which led him to a small orchard. He scanned the area, but the setting sun made it difficult for him to see anyone. A soft rustling of leaves drew his attention, and he glimpsed feet being pulled up. He tiptoed to the trunk of the tree and turned to rest his back against it. He looked up and saw her arrange her skirts about her. He smiled to himself then realized she might think he was laughing at her.
“Lass, ye canna stay up there all night. If naught else, they will miss ye on the dais.”
“True, but I would rather deal with Mama after the feast than return and be humiliated all over again.”
“Ye never did tell me how old ye are. I dinna think ye’re as old as ma six and ten or even ma sister’s five and ten.”
“I’m three and ten,” she whispered.
“Will ye come down so we might talk and I dinna have to keep ma eyes averted?”
“Nay. Ye dinna need to stand there if ye dinna want to.”
“Vera well. I accept yer invitation to come up.” Magnus hoisted himself up and perched on the branch across from hers.
“I didna invite ye up,” she spluttered.
“Och, I thought yer refusal to come down was just another way of asking me to come up. Ye ken I canna be vera bright on account of ma size. All brawn and nay brains.”
Magnus winked at her. Surprised that he would joke at his own expense, it took Deirdre a moment before she burst out laughing.
Magnus knew in that moment he was lost. The sound of her laughter soaked into his mind and his heart, if not even his soul. He forced himself to remember that she said she was only three and ten. There was nothing he could do at this gathering, but he resolved to wait until she was four and ten. He would begin courting her then.
“Deir, I ken ye heard what they said, and I’m sorry for it. I wish I could take it all back so ye wouldnae be hurt or embarrassed. But do ye see how ridiculous it is that those two lads, who are older than me, are even commenting on a lass as young as ye and how it makes them look like naught more than lechers.”
Ye’re nae far off either, but at least she doesnae ken that.
“I’m old enough to marry, but I amnae what any mon wants. I dinna look more than a child.” Deirdre pulled her knees to her chest and laid her cheek upon them as she wrapped her arms around them.
Magnus recognized the position as protective. She wanted to shrink away to nothing. His heart ached for her. She had been vibrant and wild that afternoon and full of spirit. Now, she seemed to be retreating into a shell.
“Mayhap ye are old enough to wed, but ye dina have to. Ma sister, Mairghread, is less than a year younger than I am. She’s only five and ten, and I ken ma da wouldnae ever consider marrying her off so young. I dinna think ye father would either. From his tone this afternoon, I think he might try to keep ye forever.” Magnus beamed hoping to coax her out.
“That’s only because ma brother is still too young to hunt with him. Once he is old enough to ride and hunt and train in the lists, ma father willna be so keen to keep me around.”
Magnus would not argue with her, but something told him he would have an uphill battle ahead of him when he requested permission to court Deirdre.
How am I so sure already?
“Magnus, do ye think I’ll ever become a woman that a mon might want?”
The question was asked so softly that he almost did not hear her. He looked into the eyes that reminded him so much of home and reached out to cup her cheek.
“Ye already have,” Magnus swept his lips over hers.
~~~
It took a moment before Deirdre realized Magnus was waiting for an answer. She was so lost to her memories she almost forgot what he was saying.
“Aye, I remember ye explained what fidelity means to the Sinclairs, but after a year and a day, after seven years, I didna ken if ye would feel bound to that pledge anymore. I could understand if ye wouldnae.”
Mangus shook his head and scowled. Absentmindedly, Deirdre reached out and smoothed the crease between his eyebrows.
“Where were ye a moment ago? Ye seemed so far away.”
“I was remembering the day we met.”
Magnus stood and took a step towards her, and when she did not back up or shift away, he cupped her cheek and whisked his lips against hers.
“The day I knew I would be yers for a lifetime, Deir.”
She lifted her chin to meet his lips and pressed back against them. Her mewl was enough to have them wrapping their arms around one another. Magnus brushed his tongue against her lips, and she instantly parted them. She opened her mouth wi
de, inviting his thrusting tongue in, so she could softly suck on it. Magnus wrapped her hair around his hand as he pinned her against his chest. Deirdre did not think twice about melting into his hold. She spent almost every night of the past seven years falling asleep to thoughts about this exact moment when she could kiss him again for the first time, when they could touch each other again, when they could reunite. Her hands traveled over his chest and back then over his shoulders and up and down his arms. Her frustration grew as material kept her from the heat emanating through every inch of him. Magnus’s mouth meandered from hers and kissed a line along her jaw to the hollow at the base of her throat. He followed her collarbone to her shoulder and up her neck until he caught her between a laugh and a moan before nipping her earlobe.
“Ye remembered that I’m ticklish there.”
“Aye. I remember a great many things aboot yer body. I remember that we learned them together.”
Deirdre’s hands slid to his belt and tugged him forward then moved to his outer hips. She found the grooves that fascinated her when she first discovered them all those years ago. She marveled then and now at how different his body was from her own. The nooks and crannies he had that did not exist on her own body felt familiar but different all at once. There was so much that she wanted to become reacquainted with and so much she wanted to learn.
“I remember that ye liked it when I sucked yer tongue. Seems that hasnae changed.” She grinned up at him.
“Nay, that certainly hasnae changed. Ye had me almost spilling when ye did that.”
Voices from the passageway that were entirely too close for either of their comfort cut Magnus’s comment short. They stood still and held their breath as they waited for whoever was in the passageway to move on. When there was silence once again, he kissed the tip of her nose.
"Deir, we canna stay in here forever. Someone will miss yer presence, and ye dinna need yer mother and father searching for ye."
A soul-deep sigh passed Deirdre's lips.
"I ken ye're right, but I dinna want to return to the Great Hall, I dinna feel safe walking the passageways alone," she looked into Magnus's eyes and melted into him. "Dinna make me leave ye," she finished in little more than a whisper.
His Highland Pledge (The Clan Sinclair Book 4) Page 3