Jackston found himself curious about the way Lizelle spoke to Rora because he remembered Rora’s intimation that Lizelle beat her. From the way Lizelle was treating the lass, he was coming to see that it was something he could easily believe. In fact, Lizelle was becoming increasingly hostile with Rora and, as Jackston watched, suddenly reached out and grabbed the girl’s arm as if to shake her. But that action caused Rora to dump the tray on Lizelle’s pink dress, and Lizelle screeched as she brought up a hand and slapped Rora across the face with an open palm. She then shoved the girl down to her knees and demanded she pick up the food, all the while lamenting her dirty dress. Jackston came away from the wall.
“Here, now,” he said, frowning at Lizelle. “Why did ye do that?”
Lizelle was furious. “The clumsy fool!” she cried. “Look what she did to me gown! It is ruined!”
Jackston could see the stains on the front of the pink brocade. “It seems tae me that ye caused that yerself,” he said. “I saw ye grab the lass by the arm, Lizelle. What happened was not her fault.”
Lizelle’s eyes widened at him, utterly shocked that he should side with the servant. Down on the floor, still picking up the food that had fallen, Rora suddenly lifted her head.
“Nay, m’laird,” she insisted, sounding terrified. “It ’twas me own fault. I am very sorry tae have ruined everythin’. I am very clumsy!”
She sounded so bloody scared. Anger flared in Jackston’s chest. Before he could reply, one of Lizelle’s women reached down and yanked Rora to her feet, practically tossing her from the room as the second woman picked up the tray and tossed it out of the door after her. Jackston could hear the tray clattering, the food, no doubt, spraying on Rora. He stood there, open-mouthed, as Lizelle’s women slammed the chamber door and then rushed to Lizelle to see the damage to her dress.
Jackston had to step away; he was furious with what he’d just witnessed but he was wise enough to keep his mouth shut. He suspected, from Rora’s reaction, that it wouldn’t go particularly well in her favor if he took her side. It was just a feeling he had. It seemed that Lizelle was very hostile towards her pretty young servant and that had been evident from the moment Rora had entered the chamber. As Lizelle practically wept to the women who were trying to brush the stains off her skirt, Jackston leaned back against the wall.
“Is that how ye treat yer servants, Lizelle?” he asked evenly. “Truly? Do ye actually take a hand tae them in front of others?”
Lizelle looked at him, mortified. “She… she is a stupid girl,” she stammered. “For her to spill on me….”
“Ye shook her by the arm. Ye caused her tae spill. I saw it.”
Now, Lizelle was turning red in the face. “If she had obeyed me orders from the first, I wouldna had tae punish her,” she said, struggling to justify her actions. “She was tae bring bread and cheese and pickled mushrooms. She dinna bring the cheese I requested.”
“Did ye ask her why?”
“It doesna matter why!”
“Did ye ask her why?”
Lizelle was clearly flustered. “She said there was none in the kitchens, but I know that not tae be true!”
“How do ye know? Do ye spend much time in the kitchens that ye would know that?”
Utterly rattled, Lizelle gathered her skirts and pushed her women out of the way. “I must change me clothes,” she said. Then, she started to weep angrily. “I wanted this tae be so nice. We havena seen each other in years and I so wanted this tae be perfect. I am sorry it wasna. If ye’ll give me a little time, I’ll change me dress and come right back. Mayhap we can… try again?”
Jackston didn’t want to try again. He’d seen a flash of Lizelle’s true self in her behavior with Rora and he could see that she was still the petty, spoiled girl he’d left those years ago. Behavior he’d once thought entertaining he now thought appalling. In fairness, it could have been because he felt an odd sense of protection over Rora and Lizelle’s brutality had him more agitated than he should have been. In truth, he really didn’t know why. All he knew was that he had to get clear of the woman and think about what he really wanted to do.
Did he want to take the time to discourage her from the marriage? Or did he simply want to tell her he had no intention of keeping his vow and let the situation take its natural course. Whatever the case, he was glad to be free of her for the moment.
“Go,” he waved a hand at her, turning back to the windowsill and the sea breezes beyond.
“Ye willna leave?”
He hesitated. “I willna leave.”
He spoke the words begrudgingly but that was enough for Lizelle. Satisfied, she scurried off with her women, leaving Jackston alone in her solar with the lyre player still strumming in the corner. He glanced at the musician, who was seemingly lost in his own world, and knew he needed to get out of there. A place like this – a woman’s solar – was no place for him.
Swiftly, he quit the chamber and made his way out of the manse.
Chapter Three
Once Jackston left the manse, he made it as far as the stables.
There, he came to a halt. His steed was in one of the stalls, munching happily on the grain provided, and Jackston wandered over to the beast, affectionately slapping the big rump. All the while, however, his mind was whirling with what he’d just witnessed – Lizelle’s behavior, Rora’s reaction, his own feelings in general. All of it was spinning around in his mind so that it was difficult to isolate just one thought. They were all related, all tied up together, and he could hardly make sense of them.
Do I marry Lizelle as I once promised to do?
Or do I forsake me parents’ honor and run?
More and more, he simply didn’t want to be bothered with this. He didn’t want to marry Lizelle but didn’t possess the patience any longer to make a game out of it so she would be the one to refuse the betrothal. Now, he simply wanted to leave and never look back. He couldn’t envision himself married to a woman he may have been fond of once, but distance and time had reduced that fondness to indifference. With a mean streak in her, Lizelle wasn’t anyone he wanted to be saddled with.
Perhaps the best thing to do was simply speak with her father and be honest.
Surely Robert Menzies knew that his daughter was a spoiled shrew. Surely he would understand if Jackston explained that the vow he’d once given to marry her was a child’s vow, something he’d given and had no idea of the seriousness of it. But remembering the welcome he’d been given by Robert, Jackston was coming to seriously doubt the man would take it well if Jackston told him he had no intention of marrying his daughter. In fact, it might crush Robert more than it would crush Lizelle. He was coming to think that Robert wanted his daughter married simply so she would cease to be his problem any longer.
God’s Bones… what would he do if Robert begged him to take her off his hands?
And then there was Rora….
Beautiful, simple, sweet… he didn’t even really know the lass, but what he did know of her, he liked. And not in a lustful sense, either, which was unusual with him. There was something very strong yet incredibly fragile about Rora, an allure he’d never before experienced. But the fact that she was a servant… it wasn’t something he could pursue with her.
… or was it?
He was planning on returning to England, anyway. What if… what if he were to take her with him? No one would know she had only been a servant. She was finer and more beautiful than any noblewoman he’d ever known, angelic to a fault. It would be easy to believe she was bred from fine stock.
But for what purpose would he take her with him? To marry her? To simply take sport with her?
He really wasn’t sure.
Someone entered the stable at that point, distracting him, and he glanced up from his horse’s rump to see that Rora had made an appearance. The sunbeams streaming in from the ventilation windows high on the walls caught her hair, glistening off of it, and Jackston stood straight as she entered, drinking in
the sight of her. Their eyes met as she scampered in his direction.
“I-I saw ye leave the manse, m’laird,” she said before he could speak. She was breathless, as if she’d been running. “I wanted tae thank ye for speakin’ up for me to Miss Lizelle. It was very noble.”
He smiled at her. “It was the truth.”
“Ye musna do it again.”
His smile faded. “Why not?”
She sighed heavily, an expression of pain and fear crossing her features. “Because she will only take it out on me,” she said quietly. “Miss Lizelle… she doesna like it when her word is challenged.”
Jackston could see that was true. He eyed Rora a moment before taking a few steps over to the stable wall, sliding down to his buttocks. He patted the hard-packed earth next to him.
“Come here, lass,” he said. “Sit down. I want tae speak tae ye.”
Obediently, Rora went to sit next to him, a proper distance between them. She looked at him, wide-eyed and expectant, and he found himself studying the lines of her face. She was quite fascinating to look at. He could also see the nearly perfect handprint on the left side of her cheek and neck from where Lizelle had struck her. That brought his anger about all over again.
“How long has she been treating ye so poorly?” he asked.
Rora lowered her gaze. “Oh…,” she said, shrugging faintly, “I dunna know. I have been her servant since I was very young. It is simply her way.”
Jackston didn’t like that answer. “It is not a good way,” he said. “Do you understand that?”
She looked up at him. “It doesna matter. I have no say in what she does.”
That was very true. But Jackston didn’t like to hear that. “I know ye dunna, but does her father ever say anythin’? Surely Robert doesna approve of the way she treats her servants.”
Rora shrugged. “The laird keeps tae himself. Miss Lizelle does as she pleases.” She paused a moment, looking at Jackston in a way that suggested she had no idea why he was concerned for her. “Miss Lizelle isna always as ye see. Sometimes, she can be kind. But kindness is not truly who she is.”
“What do ye mean?”
Rora cocked her head thoughtfully. “I mean that we all have things we keep hidden, that we dunna want others tae see,” she said. “It is who we truly are, our hidden heart, and most of us keep it buried. Miss Lizelle’s hidden heart is full of fear and cruelty. She is afraid of many things, and that fear causes her tae become cruel. She has been speakin’ of yer visit for years and today, she was a-feared it would be ruined so her cruelty came out.”
It was an astonishingly insightful analysis from a woman who lived a simple life of servitude. No education, no real opportunity to expand her mind, yet Rora had a grasp of things few people did. That impressed him greatly.
“And ye?” he asked quietly. “What is yer hidden heart?”
Rora smiled bashfully. “I’ve never given much thought tae it.”
He smiled because she was, his gaze drinking in every movement, every flutter of her eyelashes. “Then let me tell ye,” he said. “I suspect yer hidden heart is one of patience and compassion, for it is a rare woman that would see inside others like that. I sense that ye feel some pity for Lizelle.”
The warm expression on Rora’s face faded. “She is unhappy.”
“Why?”
Rora shook her head. “A lot of reasons, I think,” she said. “But it wouldna do for me tae tell ye. That is somethin’ she must tell ye herself.”
He respected the fact that she wasn’t going to gossip about her mistress. He leaned back against the wall, his gaze still lingering on her as if he were incapable of looking at anything else. He found that he wanted to know more about this insightful young woman he was so attracted to.
“Ye’re correct,” he said. “If anyone is tae do the tellin’, it should be her. But I dunna want tae talk about her anymore. I want tae talk about ye. Ye told me that yer da sold ye tae Robert Menzies in payment for a debt.”
Rora nodded. “Aye.”
“Tell me about yer family. I want tae hear of yer people.”
She considered his question. “There isna much tae tell,” she said. “Me family is from Lonmay, tae the north. Me da is a smithy but he wanted tae try his luck with a herd of cattle. He did some work for Laird Robert and asked for a loan of money. Laird Robert wouldna give him a loan, so me da sold me tae Laird Robert for the money. I have three brothers, ye see, and bein’ the only lass, I suppose he did the only thing he could tae get the money he needed.”
Jackston was listening intently. “So he sold ye.”
She nodded. “Aye,” she said. “Me ma was dead these many years and I suppose me da had no use for me.”
She spoke as if using her as a business transaction was of no consequence. Of course, transactions like that happened all of the time, but still, there was something cold about selling flesh and blood. Jackston shook his head. “I’m not sure I could sell me daughter,” he said. “Seems like a harsh thing tae do.”
Rora didn’t see his point. “Why?” she asked. “I live in a big house. I have a bed tae sleep in and food tae eat. I’m not sad for what me da did. I am in a better place.”
Jackston was touched by her optimism. “Ye’re in a place where yer mistress beats ye,” he said, reaching out to grasp her chin gently and turn her face to get a look at the handprint on her skin. “Truly, Rora… ye have a brighter outlook on life than I would in the same situation. It doesna quite seem fair.”
His touch seemed to do something to her; Rora’s breathing seemed to come faster, her full bosom heaving gently beneath her tunic. “Nothin’ in life is truly fair,” she said, trembling as he ran a finger over the red welt. “But I am more fortunate than most. I thank God that I have a warm bed and good food. And… and I hope not tae be here forever.”
He dropped his hand from her face although it was difficult; he was fighting the urge to pull the woman into his arms. That silken skin and lips the color of a ripe peach were calling to him.
“Is that so?” he asked, simply to distract himself. “Where do ye plan tae go?”
She looked at him, smiling. “Somewhere far away,” she said, her expression taking on a somewhat dreamy countenance. “Can…can I tell ye a secret?”
“Of course.”
“Ye willna tell Miss Lizelle?”
“Never.”
She bit her lip in a gesture that suggested she was about to lay forth a tremendous secret. “There are travelers that stop here sometimes,” she said. “I listen tae them speakin’ in the hall, tellin’ tales of their travels. Sometimes… sometimes I hope that Laird Robert will sell me tae one of these merchants so that I can travel with them. I want tae go tae London and Paris, or even Rome. I heard a man say that all of Rome is built with golden pillars. It seems tae me that tae travel tae a place like that would be just like goin’ tae heaven.”
He was grinning. “And ye want tae see that?”
She nodded eagerly. “I do,” she said. “Very much.”
Jackston had to admit that she had him fairly enchanted by this point. Not only was she a beautiful woman, but she was intelligent and had ambition. He found that a fascinating combination. Unlike Lizelle, who was content to sit in her solar and rot, Rora had dreams. She wanted to learn, to see, to grow. Jackston liked that a great deal.
“Then I hope yer dreams come true,” he said. “I have dreams meself.”
Now it was her turn to be fascinated. “Ye do?” she asked. “But I heard that ye were a great knight. Surely, ye’ve lived yer dreams.”
He shook his head. “Not nearly enough,” he said. “Surely, I have seen a lot. I have accomplished quite a bit. But there is much more tae life and I want tae see and do all I can before it’s over with.”
Rora smiled at the appeal of living fully. “As do I,” she said. “I wish ye good fortune, then, in doin’ all ye wish tae do.”
“I wish ye the same.”
They gazed at each
other for a moment and Jackston could feel the warmth between them. He was hoping it wasn’t imagination on his part because he was attracted to the little servant as he’d never been attracted to anyone in his life. There was so much more to her than most women he’d met, something sweet and alluring. What was it he’d said about her hidden heart? Truth be told, there was much more than patience and compassion there. Much, much more. But they were all things she kept tucked far away.
She was close enough to grab and he did so, reaching out to cup her sweet face as his lips slanted over hers. That urge he’d been fighting since she came into the stable overwhelmed him until it was no longer something he could ignore. He had to taste her, at least once, to know what he would be forever missing. A forbidden kiss and nothing more. He would be satisfied and, perhaps, not so infatuated with her.
Unfortunately, his attempt to taste something forbidden worked against him.
He wanted more.
Pulling Rora into his arms, his kisses became more insistent. His tongue licked at her, gently prying her lips apart and snaking into her mouth. Against him, Rora had collapsed completely, overwhelmed by his strength and his power. She hadn’t resisted at all. But the truth was that she was a servant and if a man above her station had a mind to take her, then she didn’t have much say in it.
That thought ran through Jackston’s mind as he suckled on her lips, feeling her heaving body in his arms. He didn’t want her to accept his kisses because she was afraid to refuse.
He wanted her to want him.
“Do ye want me tae stop?” he asked huskily.
Rora was barely coherent. “If…if ye want tae.”
He grasped her by the chin, his face very close to hers as he stared into her eyes. “Nay,” he muttered. “Listen tae me. Do ye want me tae stop?
It seemed to occur to her what he was asking. Her mouth worked a moment as she tried to come up with the correct words. “Ye should,” she breathed. “If Miss Lizelle were tae know….”
She trailed off and he understood, at least from her perspective. If Lizelle discovered he’d kissed Rora, then it would go very badly for her. He simply sat there a moment, gazing down at her, into that sweet face with those glorious eyes. He was drawn to those eyes time and time again. The hand on her chin began to caress her skin.
The Forbidden Highlands Page 4