by B. J. Scott
“True. But it doesna mean I would refuse tae consider your courtship were circumstances different.”
Alasdair swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. Did he hear her correctly? Had she said she’d welcome his courtship? Nay, like all women, she was only saying the words she thought he wanted to hear. He’d been duped by a lass’ wiles and taken for a fool in the past. He was not about to do it again. Women only flattered and flirted with men like him when it suited a purpose.
“You dinna know me well enough tae make such a statement, m’lady. My thoughts are not nearly as pure as my actions.”
“I’ve gotten tae know you better than you think these last few days. I can tell by the way you speak and how tense you become when the topic of women is mentioned that someone has hurt you verra deeply. However, just as all dogs arena black, not all women are the same. Then again, I’m not looking for a man in my life either.” She rolled over, snuggled beneath the pelts, and closed her eyes.
He blew out a heavy sigh. Finally, she was ready to settle for the night and they could finish this conversation. Had it continued much longer, he’d have tossed his morals aside and silence her by climbing under the pelts, kissing her senseless, and finding his release.
He trudged back to the hearth. After tossing several large logs on the fire, he plunked himself on a stool. He removed his boots and his clothes followed. He glanced from the pallet to the pelt on the floor and back. There was no question where he’d rather spend the night. But he was not about to let down his guard, to open his heart to her, only to have it ripped from his chest if her words proved to be lie or a husband came to claim her. Regardless of what she’d said, he get any randy thoughts of Lauren out of his head.
But that was easier said than done. He lay there, staring up at the rafters for what seemed like hours, his mind racing with possibilities, his aching shaft engorged and ready. The soft lilt of her laughter echoed in his mind and he could smell the fresh, sweet scent of her porcelain-like skin. He pictured her naked body, the sleek feminine figure he’d beheld the night he’d found her on the beach and removed her wet clothes. He groaned at the conjured image of her sensual curves, pert round breasts, and the way her perfectly sculpted bottom fit into his lap. His groin stirred to the point of pain.
He could relieve himself using a man’s oldest means, but with his luck, she’d awaken and catch him in the lewd act. It would be so easy to slide in behind her, and, buried to the hilt, ease his discomfort, while bringing her to the height of pleasure.
Why me, Lord? What did I do to displease you?
Again he questioned the Almighty’s wisdom and wondered why he’d seen fit to torture him so. For the first time, he understood the inner turmoil his brothers had experienced when they met Cailin and Fallon. He’d teased them both relentlessly, was certain they’d lost their good senses, and could not fathom why any man that was right in the head would chose to tie himself down to one lass, to any lass.
He had no intention of perusing Lauren or any woman, but his conviction to remain on his chosen path didn’t stay the lust and desire coursing through his veins. Walking the fine line between duty and desire was not as easy as he’d believed. Neither was dropping his guard or letting go of the past. Self-doubt and the inability to trust had been his constant companions, the reasons for the skeptical way he’d lived his life for so long.
He bunched a length of plaid under his head, rolled to his side, and focused on the fire—anything to get his mind off Lauren.
When Lauren awakened at daybreak and glanced around the croft, she wasn’t surprised that Alasdair had left. Given his terse reaction when she’d brought up their kiss, the way he dodged her questions, and a sinking feeling of dismay grinding in the pit of her stomach, she was certain today would be the day he insisted they depart for Sinclair Castle. Mayhap he was outside readying the horse.
Time had run out. She should have told him about her dream. But second-guessing her decision now would do no good. When he returned, she would explain all she had remembered and, hopefully, he would decide to help, and not forsake her.
When she stood, her ankle felt much stronger than it had yesterday. The notion of running briefly crossed her mind again, but she had no idea where she’d go.
The morning passed quickly and she’d spent most of the time in conflict, trying to decide how best to broach the subject. When she heard two voices outside the croft, her heart all but stopped. Alasdair had returned. She recognized the deep timber of his voice right away, but who was he talking to?
She crept to the door and opened it wide enough to see two men standing a few feet from the croft and to hear their conversation. Alasdair’s size and stance was unmistakable, but she could not see the face of the man who accompanied him. However, the cadence of his voice was shockingly familiar. Did she know this man?
“I’m relieved tae see you hale and hardy, my friend. I was worried when you dinna show up a sennight ago, as planned. What possessed you tae stop here rather than finishing the journey tae the castle? Other than when a few of my clansmen stayed here during the fall hunt, no one has used this place for many years. I havena been here since we were lads,” the stranger said, then threw his arms around Alasdair and hugged him. “I’ve missed coming here and you.”
“I was on my way tae your castle when I came across a lass on the beach. She had fallen, hit her head, and was needed my assistance,” Alasdair replied. “I dinna mean to cause you any concern, but I couldna leave her alone and there was no way tae send word of my delay.”
“A lass, you say? Does she have a name?” He stepped around Alasdair and peered toward the croft. “Is she inside?”
Alasdair nodded and followed as the man stepped onto the porch. “She wasna able tae remember much after she bumped her head, but she thinks her name is Lauren. Might you know her?”
“The name isna familiar, but I dinna know every new member of the clan. With the English on the run and so many villages destroyed in their paths, people show up all the time looking for a place tae live. Mayhap seeing her will jog my memory.” He threw back his head and laughed.
“What do you find so funny?” Alasdair asked.
“I canna picture you playing nurse tae anyone, let a lone a lass. Is she at least a comely wench?”
“She’s bonny enough.”
“Well that explains the delay.” The man thumped Alasdair on the back. “You’ve been at war a long time, my friend.” His grin broadened. “I can only imagine what it would be like spending most of your time in the company of men. Without bonny lassies to warm your bed, it must have been pretty lonely. I canna blame you for taking the time tae rut with a willing chit.”
“Nothing happened between us,” Alasdair replied gruffly. “She hurt her ankle in the fall, as well as her head, and wasna able tae sit a horse. I cared for her needs and tended her injuries, that’s all. She is on the mend and I was planning tae leave on the morrow.”
“Dinna get your back up, man. I was not implying you did anything wrong. Mind you, I am not so sure I could have found the same kind of restraint.”
“That’s because you are a swine and have no manners.” Alasdair returned the man’s slap on the back with such force it nearly sent him toppling off the porch.
“I wouldna try that again,” the man growled. “I could beat you in a wrestling match when you were a bairn and I still can.” At least a head shorter then Alasdair, the man glared skyward, his fists balled at his side. “Even if you have grown to be the size of a giant.”
“A lot has changed in twelve summers.”
“I’ll say. The last time I saw you, a strong wind could blow you over and your hair was as red as carrots.”
“I dinna need you tae remind me. And tae set things straight, few men could best me in a wrestling match. You’d be a damned fool tae try.” Alasdair planted his hand on the man’s shoulder and urged him toward the door. “Mayhap I should go inside first and make sure the lass is decent.”
“Or mayhap we can go inside and she willna be.” The man laughed.
She’d heard that whimsical cackle before. But her heart rose in her throat when the stranger’s features came into view. Her trembling hand came up to cover her mouth. “Jayden,” she mumbled aloud. The reason the Sinclair name made her feel ill at ease was now very clear.
Panic squeezed her chest and she found it hard to draw a breath. She didn’t want him to find her. Turning on her heel and moving as fast as her legs could go—given they suddenly felt like iron weights—she made her way to the back door of the croft, and exited, just as the front door opened.
Chapter 9
“Not so fast, Jayden. We’ll not barge in on the lass without giving her a fair warning.” Alasdair shoved his friend aside, opened the door a crack, and called out, “Lauren. I’ve returned from hunting and have brought someone with me. Are you ready for visitors?”
When she didn’t respond he forced the door open all the way, ducked his head beneath the frame, and entered the croft.
“Well, where is she?” Jayden asked as he pushed past Alasdair and stopped in the middle of the room. He planted his hands on his hips and surveyed their surroundings. “I can tell someone has been living here, but see no signs of a lass. Are you sure you dinna fall off your own horse and bump your head? If not, mayhap you were dreaming or imagined her.”
“She was asleep on that pallet when I left this morning.” He pointed to the empty bed.
“The pelts are askew and it appears someone slept there, but for all I know, it could have been you alone.” Jayden bit down on his lower lip, stifling a grin.
“The lass slept on the pallet and I stayed on the floor.” Alasdair spun around and his mouth gaped open. The pelt was no longer before the hearth. It was folded neatly and on the shelf. He was starting to question his own sanity.
Other than the rushes he used to cover the ground, the area in front of the hearth was bare. The trenchers and tankards they’d used for the evening meal were cleaned and stacked on a shelf beside the pile of pelts and plaid. He scratched his head. “She must have tidied up, but I have no idea where she could be. Mayhap she stepped outside for a breath of fresh air.”
Jayden slapped him on the back. “You said she had a bad ankle and couldna get around well enough tae ride. She canna have gone far. Unless—”
“She was here. I swear on St. Steven’s grave, there was a lass on that pallet when I left a few hours ago,” he snapped. He’d had enough of his friend’s cynical remarks, and there was no mistaking the patronizing tone in Jayden’s voice.
Jayden shrugged. “We saw no sign of her when we arrived, mayhap she went out back for some reason.”
“I dinna know why she’d venture out, but you might be right.” He moved with stealth to the back door of the croft and yanked it open. “Lauren! Where are you at, lass?” A mix of anger and worry churned in his belly. Where had she gone? Had she wandered off and gotten lost, or had someone abducted her?
“Lauren,” he shouted, but silence greeted him.
“You’re wasting your breath, Alasdair. Either she’s gone or never existed in the first place. I, for one, am parched. Come inside and join me in a drink. If we wish tae reach Sinclair Castle afore nightfall, we canna tarry here too much longer.”
Scowling, Alasdair faced his grinning friend. With his hands clenched, he took a step in Jayden’s direction. “I’d get that smirk off your face if you value your life. Something is amiss. Otherwise, she’d be here. Mayhap someone found out she was here and absconded with her.” He slammed his fist against the wall. “Mo crèche! I should never have left her alone.” He stormed past Jayden, who was still standing in the doorway.
“Dinna blame yourself for something you couldna foresee.” Jayden retrieved two tankards from the shelf, then uncapped the wineskin hanging at his side. “Calm down, man, and have a drink.” He poured some whisky into each vessels, then handed one to Alasdair. “If she were here, and I’m not saying she was,” he quickly added, “Mayhap she just decided it was time tae leave. You are out here in the middle of nowhere. There isna a croft or village for miles. The chance that someone came along is slim. I’m sure she just remembered where she belonged and figured her family would be worried. I doubt she’s met with foul play.”
“I came along so that destroys your theory.” Alasdair downed the content of the tankard, then slammed it on the table, knocking over the cup of flowers in the process. He scooped up one of the delicate blossoms, brought it to his nose, then crushed it in his fist. “She was here and my gut tells me she is in danger.”
Jayden filled the tankards again. “Have some more whisky, then I’ll help you search the area around the croft if it will make you feel better.”
“I’ve had enough of your palver,” Alasdair snapped as he fastened a baldric on his back, then sheathed his sword. He tucked a dirk in his boot and one in the leather casing at his side. “You can stay here and get drunk if you want, but I’m going tae find Lauren.”
Jayden finished his drink and followed Alasdair out the door. “I’m coming with you. I want tae meet this mystery woman you’ve conjured up.”
A search of the area turned up nothing. There was no sign of Lauren, and since the ground around the croft was primarily rock and fine stone, there were no footprints or hoof marks to follow.
His voice hoarse from calling her name, Alasdair returned to the cottage a short time later, tossed his sword on the table, then sat hard on the wooden stool. He dropped his head into his hands and released a heavy sigh of frustration. Jayden might be right and the lass had remembered who she was and decided to go home. But she could have waited until he returned and told him she was leaving. He’d have seen her safely returned to her family and then gone on to Sinclair Castle. He never wanted to be saddled with her care in the first place, so should be glad to be rid of her. Yet he could not shake the feeling she was in some sort of trouble.
“We’ve covered the area around the croft and there is no sign of your lass. Best you forget about her and we prepare tae head home ourselves.” Jayden pulled up a stool and sat on the opposite side of the table.
“I canna leave until I find her.”
“I understand your concern, but she’s nowhere tae be found. I’m not convinced she was here tae begin with, but I canna tarry here much longer. Either you come with me or I leave without you. The choice is yours. My da is expecting me back afore nightfall and I dinna want tae deal with his wrath if I’m late.”
“How is your da? I was so caught up in my own problem that I dinna ask about your kin. I hope they are well.”
Jayden lowered his head and crossed himself. “The war with England has taken its toll on our clan as it has many others in the Highlands. I lost my two older brothers at Falkirk and my younger brother fell at Stirling Bridge. He died a sennight later. He lost an arm in battle and never recovered from the poison that ravaged his body.”
“I’m sorry. So you are the only surviving son?”
Jayden nodded and poured what was left of the whisky into their cups. “Aye. I am the last and will sit as laird when my da passes. Not something I ever expected being the third son, but life doesna always turn out as planned.”
“What of your mam and sister? How do they fare?”
“They’re gone as well. My da is convinced my mother perished of a broken heart. Losing three sons was too much for her tae bear. Mam became ill after Torun succumbed tae his wounds and passed a fortnight later.”
“And your sister?”
Jayden lowered his head and his expression grew sullen. “Edina died recently as well.”
“I’m sorry.” Alasdair patted his friend on the shoulder. How did it happen?” The image of Jayden’s younger sister came to mind. A homely lass with more freckles than he could count.
“It happened while she was on a journey home from the Orkneys. She went there to foster with my aunt and her husband after our mother’s death. Da bid her retur
n, tae marry Duncan Sutherland so he blames himself.”
“She was a young bairn when we used to visit. But I do recall a scrawny lass with stringy, yellow hair, brown eyes that seemed too large for her face, and a toothless grin. She followed us everywhere we went and was quite a pest.”
“That she was. But I’d do anything to have her back and relive those days.” Jayden stared at the drink in his hand and swirled the whisky in his tankard, rather than imbibing.
Alasdair immediately regretted his comments about Edina and wished he could take back the words. He studied his friend’s downtrodden expression. Jayden had lost many members of his family in a short period of time. He could understand his friend’s grief, given he’d lost two brothers and both his parents, too. But he’d callously spoken ill of the dead. “Forgive me. I dinna mean what I said about your sister.”
“You spoke the truth.” Jayden smiled. “She was not a comely bairn and was always under foot. However, she grew tae be quite a beauty and my closest confidant. Edina could outride most men and her talent with a bow and blade were unheard of for a woman. I guess growing up with four unruly brothers spawned her competitive spirit.”
“You must miss her verra much.”
“Aye.” Jayden took a sip of his drink. “She was verra fond of you as bairn. She oft told me she was going to marry you when she grew up. Mayhap you dinna know this, but our fathers discussed the possibility of seeing the two of you betrothed on more than one occasion.”
Alasdair choked on his whisky, sputtered, and coughed to clear his throat. “I find that hard tae believe. I wasna a good-looking lad nor was I the eldest son.”
Jayden shrugged. “I only know what my da told me. But we dinna have to worry about that now she is gone.” He bowed his head and crossed himself. “May she rest in peace.”