With one quick roll, he propped himself overtop of her and gave her a long kiss. When he pulled away from her lips, he kissed her cheek, and then her nose, and then her lips once more before moving to her other cheek.
She giggled and took his face in her hands. “Enough, ye have to go.”
“Want me gone so badly? I should have seen that ye were only using me fer my body. I ken that I am a handsome lad, but I have feelings, ye ken.”
She rolled her eyes and adjusted the bodice of her dress. “Ye are so insufferable. Why do I even put up with ye?”
Rob stood back and waved his hand over his body. “As I said before, I am a handsome lad.”
She smiled again, and he bent forward to kiss her. Would he ever have his fill of her?
The horns trumpeted once more off in the distance and Rob pulled away reluctantly. “I’d better go.”
“Ye had better come back soon.”
“Aye,” Rob replied, going into the neighboring stall and leading his horse out. “I mean, I have to come back. I’ve still got to get ye to confess that ye miss me when I’m gone, ye stubborn lass.”
“Goodbye, Rob,” she said, annoyed.
Rob turned, holding his hand up to wave goodbye. He tried to memorize her at that moment, lounging in the hay with a soft smile on her lips, her hair a wild crown all around her. He would see her again, he would share many more moments like this with her, but this image would have to be enough to carry him until he returned.
The ranks of men were just beginning to march from the city when Rob arrived, coming up beside Hugh, who was trailing behind the rest of the Frasers. The sight of the Queen’s army gave Rob a flutter of anticipation. Queen Mary had easily gathered two thousand men to her cause. There were kilts of every color, and dozens of flags displaying the coats of arms of the various clans gathered to fight in her name.
“Well, brother.” Rob leaned over to Hugh. “Do ye ken where we are marching?”
“The Queen’s scouts spotted Huntly’s army at Corrichie. They seemed a bit dug in, so I suppose that ought to be the place.”
“‘Tis not too far.”
“Nah, ‘tis not.”
Rob stretched his arms up into the air with a grin, still reveling in the slight tingle of his muscles that had lingered with him since he had left the stables. It had been so long since he had felt such a full and satisfying release; his body almost didn’t know what to do to tame the rush flowing through him.
“So, what did ye do with our short little return, Hugh?”
“I tracked down my wife,” Hugh said, giving Rob a strange and appraising look. “What did ye do?”
“I tracked down my wife, too.”
Hugh’s brows rose a little, and his gaze was now full of understanding.
The brothers rode side by side through the gates of the city. The crowds of people that had come to wish them farewell slowly dissipated until all that remained were children, running and skipping alongside the party. Lads and lasses alike raised wooden sticks like swords, laughing and giggling as men pretended to cower in fear as they passed by.
One of the little lads caught Rob’s eye. His hair was as red as Rob’s, though it curled about his head with a wildness that rivaled even Kenna. He skipped along with the other children with a playful ferocity, stubbornly holding his position at the front of the group.
Hugh came up beside him and followed his gaze silently. He appraised the boy and his brother, his eyes shifting slowly back and forth. “Will there be news of a future Laird or Lady of Lovat when we return?”
“Rob!” Murtagh shouted, “Yer father be looking for ye at the front of the line.”
“Ye never ken, do ye?” Rob said with a final wink at Hugh before digging his heels into the side of his horse and galloping off toward the front of the line, leaving Hugh alone behind him.
14
Kenna stood at the gates of Aberdeen and stared out at the rolling hills beyond. The sky was cloudy, and the wind was so cold that it managed to bite through her thin blue cloak. The best days of fall were gone, and winter was on the horizon.
“Nothing,” she exclaimed. “There is nothing out there but the empty road and a handful of riders off in the distance. No army.”
Florence walked up beside her, shivering. “But I ken they’ll come back today. I just ken it. I can feel it in my bones.”
“Do we need to have ye examined by a healer? Bones that can sense the movement of armies is quite the peculiar symptom,” Kenna said through chattering teeth.
“‘Tis still early—perhaps we will be able to see them this evening,” Ellen said, putting herself between Florence and Kenna before Florence had the opportunity to make some retort.
Ellen, of course, did not look cold at all. She was the only one of the three that had been sensible enough to dress in a heavier cloak.
“Aye! I bet ye are quite right,” Florence said, shooting Kenna a look of happy defiance.
Kenna rolled her eyes. For the past week, Florence had swept down the stairs of the inn every morning, declaring that it would be the day the army finally returned. Every day for the past week, she had been wrong. Today, when she had made a similar proclamation, though, she had seemed oddly sure of herself, oddly wise and knowing. She was dressed in a fine maroon dress and her favorite gold earrings, telling Kenna and Ellen that she was headed to the gates to see the men marching down the road. How could Kenna and Ellen resist the temptation of going along?
Kenna had known that it was not likely to be true, but a bloom of hope had still sprouted in her chest. She had rushed up to her room and changed into one of her better dresses before they had left: a green cotton dress that was just a bit too tight in the places where it mattered, with a simple crossing of red ribbon at the bodice. It was one of the only dresses she had brought with her from Inverness that Florence had actually liked, and she could always catch a few men staring at her whenever she wore it. Rob, hopefully, would like it just as much—but also insist on taking it off of her.
She blushed at the thought. Who was she becoming?
“‘Tis her, over there. The one in the blue cloak. Do not all look at once, foolish lasses.”
Kenna’s eyes flicked to the right, to a group of five women all gathered around each other. They seemed to be taking turns at glancing over their shoulders to stare at Kenna.
Do they think ye’re both a traitor and blind? Kenna wondered, a bit bemused.
“I canna believe she is out here. ‘Tis so inconsiderate to the rest of us and our feelings,” one of the other women said.
A traitor, blind, and deaf, apparently.
Perhaps Kenna should just walk over there and greet them, ask them how their morning was going. They would probably soil themselves on the spot.
If Kenna had been merely distrusted before, she was positively hated now. When the men left, nearly all of the noble wives had donned black and gone around acting as if they were already widowed. They glared at her through their dark veils when she walked by and hissed some complaints, many of them asking how it was possible for the Queen to allow her to roam about the city freely. But what did they think Kenna could do now? Even if she was still loyal to the Gordon cause, which she certainly was not, the men had left seven days ago. What news could she possibly share with Huntly? What secrets and court tidings could possibly interest him more than the army marching upon him?
“There are so many people here,” Ellen said softly, spinning in a slow circle so that she could examine the entirety of the crowd gathered at the gate, though Kenna saw her eyes linger a bit longer on the whispering women to their right than they had lingered anywhere else.
That is how ye stare at someone without being noticed, Kenna thought, hoping that at least one of the other woman had understood what Ellen had done and would use that strategy for themselves the next time. Kenna would hate for them to continue to embarrass themselves.
“Strange, is it not? I wonder why everyone comes here,” Fl
orence replied, though she seemed to take in the thrum of people with pleasure compared to Ellen and Kenna’s distress.
“Very much so. Well, we should head back to the inn; ye two are going to catch yer deaths in those thin cloaks,” Ellen said.
Florence and Kenna both nodded and turned to go, Kenna keeping her head low as they began to work their way through the throngs of rich and noblewomen. The gates of Aberdeen had become the newest social hub of the city. Apparently, women would come and gather there every day—or so they had been told by the innkeeper. Some would just stand there as if they were made of stone, tearfully looking out at the road beyond. Others would give the road just a glance before they wove their way through the various clusters, mingling and gossiping and sneaking sips of wine from the flasks hidden under their cloaks.
When they got back to the inn, Florence scurried over to stand beside the fire and called for the innkeeper to bring them some lunch. He came out moments later with large, steaming bowls of stew, full of large chunks of carrot and onion. It was the perfect meal for the first cold day of the season and the women dug into the bowls as if they hadn’t eaten in days.
“What shall we do with the rest of our day?” Florence asked as soon as she had soaked up the last bit of broth with a hunk of bread. “We could head to those shops on the north end of town. There were hardly any nobles there to gawk at us the last time we went.”
“It would probably be prudent to stay closer to the inn, especially if ye are sure that the men will return today,” Ellen commented.
“Oh, Ellen, ‘tis not as if we wouldn’t find them here when we got back.” Florence pouted, clearly annoyed that her strange intuition was about to deprive her of an opportunity to leave the inn.
Kenna, on the other hand, was glad that Ellen had come up with the argument. Though nothing strange had happened since the incident with the snake, it still made Kenna nervous about leaving the inn for too long. She had already been dragged out once that day; she wasn’t sure she could do it again.
“Aye, but what, pray tell, is the point of going to the shops? Ye are either going to waste the merchants time by looking at their wares with no intention of buying them, or ye will actually buy them, which will be a waste of money since ye will likely not need whatever it is.”
Ellen knew it was a misstep as soon as she said it, and Kenna leaned her head onto the table with a groan.
Here we go again.
They had already had such a fight twice this week. Ellen would reproach Florence for her spending and overly enthusiastic social schedule. Florence would defend herself by claiming that Ellen was a prude and a bore. Then the argument would turn to some past slight or disagreement, likely one they had already argued about several times, until one finally stormed off in a fury while Kenna was left to comfort the other.
They have spent far too much time together, Kenna thought as she released another long sigh.
Being cooped up in this inn with nothing but each other’s company—for Florence’s father had banned her from accepting any social calls until they had returned—had worn on them all.
The other patrons of the inn gave them uncomfortable glances, some getting up and moving to the tables that were as far from the women as the space allowed. Kenna couldn’t blame them; she would have moved away herself if there was any chance that they wouldn’t notice her go.
The door behind them opened, letting in a blast of cold air that assaulted her back. Go, she wanted to turn and tell the new patrons. Run while you still can. But that proved to be unnecessary.
“Christ, ye two, knock it off, or I’ll tan both yer hides.”
Florence and Ellen both immediately stopped, eyes wide with shock and a bit of fear. There, standing in the doorway, with a face as red as his hair and green eyes squinted with anger and embarrassment, was Laird Lovat.
“Father!” Florence rushed from the table and into his arms.
He returned her embrace incredulously.
The door opened again, and a few more of the Fraser men came marching into the room, all so full of smiles and whoops as they called for a round of food and ale. Kenna instinctively started counting them out. By the time the stream of men stopped, she was only missing two.
“I told ye they would be back today!” Florence squealed in delight. “Where are my brothers?”
The door opened one more time, and Kenna’s headcount was complete. Rob and Hugh trudged through the door, both looking bedraggled and unkempt. Florence threw herself at them both, already asking scores of questions, not even giving them a second to answer before moving on to the next one.
The Frasers settled themselves into the chairs surrounding Kenna and Ellen while the innkeeper rushed out trays filled with bowls of stew and large frothing mugs of ale. His wife was close behind him, carrying baskets heaping with fresh bread to satisfy their best customers.
Rob, managing to quiet Florence with a promise that all would be told soon enough, came up behind Kenna’s chair and leaned against it, his hands resting on her shoulders. There were large, dark circles under his eyes, and his hair had never looked so homely, but he seemed perfectly healthy otherwise. Even the thin cut on his cheek, some small wound he had earned at Strathbogie, had mostly healed, though there would likely be a scar to mark the spot.
“How was it?” Ellen asked.
“‘Twas over quick,” Hugh replied as he slid into the chair next to Ellen. “Two thousand of the Queen’s men against five hundred Gordons. Bit of a waste of time, if ye ask me.”
“Well, nobody asked ye,” Rob teased. “‘Twas a decent fight, while it lasted.”
“But how did ye get back to the city? We were just at the gates an hour ago and couldn’t see the army on the horizon.”
“We didna come back with the army. Between the Queen’s guard and the Lowland clans that will stay in Aberdeen until the Queen returns south, there were more than enough men to walk the prisoners back. Most of the other Highland clans just went straight home from Corrichie,” Hugh explained before diving into a bowl of stew.
“Aye, but we had to come back to get ye lot,” Murtagh interjected with a grin, reaching across the table to pick up a bit of bread that the women had passed over. “I said we coulda just left ye be, but the Laird said his gold stores canna afford to leave Florence so close to so many shops fer much longer.”
The entire Fraser party laughed while Florence merely shrugged and giggled.
Kenna felt a gentle warmth spread through her. How long had it been since she had sat around a table with so many people so dear to her?
“Alright, alright, come on ye lot, quiet down,” Laird Lovat said, though his face was touched with the lopsided grin that he shared with his eldest son. “‘Tis good to be back in Aberdeen, and ‘tis good to be free of this nasty rebellion. I’d love to treat ye all to another round, but we canna celebrate just yet. Go and get some sleep, all of ye. We will have to depart fer Dounie in the morn.”
“So soon, Father?” Florence asked frowning. “‘Tis a very short rest fer ye all.”
“Aye, but the snow will be upon us soon, and we have to get back to Dounie before then. But I promise ye all a feast when we arrive home, the likes of which ye’ve never seen before.”
The men cheered and clapped each other, dozens of chairs groaning against the stone floors as they were pushed back and abandoned.
Florence leaned over and kissed her father’s cheek while the rest of his children stood and made their way up the stairs.
Rob draped his arm over Kenna’s shoulders and leaned on her, planting one soft kiss in her curls.
“Ye are exhausted, aren’t ye?” she asked with a smile when he stumbled a bit on the stairs.
Rob’s eyes drifted shut, and his head bobbed up and down. It wasn’t quite a nod; his head just sort of rolled wherever it pleased.
Kenna surpassed a laugh. She had almost thought that Rob Fraser was immune to sleepiness; he had slept so little during the first half of th
eir time in Aberdeen. It was good to see that he was a normal man after all.
Kenna guided Rob to the bed, and he collapsed back onto it with a moan of pleasure that made her blush. She turned away, thinking she would unearth some needlework project to occupy her time, but Rob grabbed her by the wrist before she could go and find one.
“Stay with me.”
“Ye’ll be asleep in a moment, how will ye even ken if I am there or not?”
“I’ll ken,” he replied as his eyes drifted shut.
Kenna tugged her wrist in an attempt to break free, but his grip was too strong, even in this state.
“Do I have any say on the matter?”
Rob shook his head, his eyes still closed.
“Honestly…” She sighed as she slipped into the bed beside him.
He released her wrist, moving his arm so that it was draped over her, enveloping her in his warmth. As she predicted, his breathing deepened in a matter of seconds, a soft snore slipping through his lips. She listened to it for a while, unsure of why her stomach was suddenly so full of butterflies.
* * *
“How much further to Dounie?” Kenna asked with a groan as she slid off the saddle and into Rob’s waiting arms.
“A few more days, lass. Ye already sore from the saddle? I told ye before that I have an excellent cure fer it,” Rob replied with a dangerous smirk.
“Not necessary. There isn’t a bit of pain,” Kenna lied, resisting the urge to rub the ache in her thighs. “I was just curious.”
“Sure, lass.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Go on, I’m sure the other lasses are waiting.”
Kenna nodded and walked off, doing her best to walk normally even though her legs wobbled beneath her as if she was a newborn. Despite this, she felt a small smile on her lips.
Highlander's Haunted Past (Highlander's Seductive Lasses Book 1) Page 18