by John Ryan
Sweet Jesu’, she’s beautiful!
***
“Come, Asilin,” Elspeth said, “just a few more sprigs of elderberry and chamomile and—”
She gasped as Asilin sprung from the creel and sprinted away in great haste. Her heart lurched at the sight of the tiny kitten being swallowed by the inky abyss. For the first time in her young life, Elspeth felt true despair.
“Asilin! Asilin!” she shouted frantically into the foreboding woodlands, her heart thumping loudly in her chest. “Please dinna run! Come back to me!”
Desperation gripped her heart until the sound of rustling underbrush redirected her attention to an overgrown patch of hazel braided with bracken. A sigh of relief escaped her lips. Mayhap Asilin hadn’t ventured far. Could it be he was as eager to be caught as she was to capture him?
“Where are you, Asilin?” Elspeth pleaded as she parted the dense thicket and peered into its shadows.
Thayer didn’t permit himself a breath as Elspeth’s hand nearly brushed his thigh. Though he remained motionless, he allowed his eyes to momentarily abandon Elspeth to peer down upon the tiny kitten now crouched beside his feet. A moment earlier Asilin’s claws had scuttled across his sandals, raking two of his toes. Now, his feet were beginning to itch! Yet he’d be damned before he uttered a sound.
Agonizing seconds passed before Elspeth finally withdrew and stood before the copse with her hands planted firmly upon her hips and a look of sweet chagrin across her face. It did nothing to distract from her beauty, he mused. In fact, he doubted anything ever could.
This near, Thayer could detect her floral and earthy essence. It intoxicated him and, veiling his eyes, he inhaled deeply to fully capture her alluring scent. At once, his manhood stirred. Though severely tempted, he willed himself to remain perfectly still.
Belatedly spying Thayer’s hulking form looming over him, Asilin hissed before darting from the brush and scaling a nearby towering pine. He crept to the edge of a withered bough, not ten feet above the ground.
“There ye are!” Elspeth declared as a grateful sigh escaped her. “Now, come down here this instant and I’ll forget you’ve been such a bad kitty!”
Asilin stood as motionless as a statue, his large golden eyes regarding Elspeth’s pleas with disinterest.
“Very well, then I’ll be coming up after ye!”
Hiking up her kirtle and kicking off her shoes, Elspeth placed her right foot against the trunk, grasped a low branch and yanked herself up.
Parting the brush and edging closer, Thayer narrowed his eyes and watched the girl. Though he admired her pluck, he marveled at the splendid spectacle before him even more. Barely suppressing a lustful grin, he studied the slender legs that now clung unceremoniously to the lofty pine. At the sight of her ripe curves, Thayer nigh overlooked the dirk Elspeth had trussed far up her thigh.
He grinned. The dirk, and its placement, only served to intrigue him further. Watching the spectacle with amusement, an acute longing welled deep within him, urging him to inch closer, even as he chided himself for doing so.
“Just a wee bit nearer, now,” Elspeth seemed to counsel herself as she warily straddled the bough upon which Asilin maintained his defiant stance.
Thayer watched as the girl pried back a small branch to reach for Asilin. It whipped back violently, sending a mass of loose curls riotously askew. Cupping his hand tightly over his mouth to stifle a snort, Thayer closed his eyes before slowly lifting one lid to gratefully note Elspeth’s lack of response.
Plucking the tiny pine needles from her wayward mass of crimson plaits, Elspeth flicked one at Asilin in vexation.
“I ought to tan your arse for doing this to me!” Elspeth huffed as she wagged an accusing finger at Asilin.
The kitten merely emitted rumbling purrs of contentment, evidently not taking her threats seriously. Thayer sensed it knew it was beloved and pampered, and secretly wished he could switch places with the wee beast.
Elspeth outstretched her arm as far as it could reach, the tips of her fingers brushing the fur along Asilin’s side. Thayer felt sure a rescue was a moment away.
A sudden crackle and snap heralded the death of the bough. Asilin sprang to safety, but Elspeth was hurled through the air. As he watched, she plummeted toward earth, her eyes closed tightly as if to prepare for a painful crash landing. But even then, Thayer had leaped from the copse and launched himself toward her. With the swiftness and agility of a panther, he sprang across the clearing and caught Elspeth just as she was about to land.
Suddenly encircled in his beefy arms, Elspeth warily lifted her gaze to Thayer’s. Shaking her head and squeezing her eyes shut, as if to pretend he wasn’t there, she pushed mightily against Thayer’s chest and broke free.
Before Thayer could react, Elspeth slid her hand to her thigh and deftly unsheathed her dirk. She thrust it forward, the tip of the blade gleaming in the moonlight. Thayer merely folded his muscular arms across his broad chest and looked on, an amused smirk upon his face.
“Keep your filthy paws away from me, ye cad!” Elspeth demanded, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. “Just who the devil are ye and what are ye doing prowling about the woods at this late hour?”
As Elspeth stood regarding Thayer with suspicion, she couldn’t help noticing that he was the very finest example of a man she had ever laid eyes upon.
No, more than that. He was impossibly handsome!
Although the MacCourts were known as a tall lot, Thayer was truly a titan among Scotsmen. Heavily muscled from years of military conditioning, she supposed, he possessed broad, vigorous shoulders, rippling and well-toned. The wide expanse of his sculptured chest, taut and firm, tapered over rock ribs to a lean and narrow waist and hips.
As hesitant as Elspeth would have been to confess this, his ruggedly masculine patrician features bedazzled her. His hair was long, golden as spun wheat, cascading over his shoulders. His rugged jaw was angular, etched with a cleft, and heavily set. She swallowed and, despite her resolve to stand up to him, took a step back.
“Forgive me, m’lady, for being so discourteous,” Thayer offered with a sweeping bow, his vivid blue eyes never abandoning her.
Elspeth stood frozen in place, her every sense alight and her wits slowly ebbing back.
“Verily, there’s no need for that,” Thayer suggested with a smile, gesturing with his broad chin at the dirk Elspeth held menacingly in front of her.
Ignoring his remark, Elspeth stood fast.
“Please allow me to introduce myself,” he began, flashing a beguiling smile. “My name is Sir Thayer MacCourt. I hail from Edinburgh. And, in answer to your question, I was merely taking an eventide stroll, is all.”
Eyeing Thayer suspiciously while trying to ignore his piercing gaze, Elspeth countered, “Ye were taking a stroll? At this hour?”
“Aye, and I could pose the same question to ye, lass. Especially since these woodlands belong to my clan.” Thayer curled his lips in a wry smile, then dipped low before Elspeth’s feet.
Anticipating an attack, Elspeth drew back the dirk and held it ready over his crouched form. Instead, much to her surprise, Thayer sprang up with a freshly plucked sprig of lavender-hued thistle and presented it to her.
“Here, a most lovely flower for a most lovely maid,” Thayer murmured huskily.
Her rankle faded. Embarrassed, she quickly slipped the dirk behind her back. “Do ye really expect to sway me with a bit of wildflower?” she demanded, hopeful that darkness of the woods concealed her anxiety.
“I assure ye, m’lady, ye wound me unjustly,” Thayer assured, placing his hand upon his chest as if to indicate a thrust to his heart. “‘Tis merely my design to bear witness to my appreciation of one most fair. Please, take it. ‘Twould do me honor.”
Tentatively, Elspeth plucked the flower from Thayer’s outstretched hand and slowly drew it to her nose.
“‘Tis lovely, thank ye,” Elspeth whispered as she tucked the sprig deep into her
creel.
Secretly, Elspeth pondered Thayer’s choice of thistle as a gift. Her father had long ago taught her the legend of the emblem of Scotland. He explained that, during the reign of Alexander III, the army of King Haakon of Norway, intent upon conquering Scotland, had landed upon the shores of Largs at night in order to surprise the slumbering Scots.
To avoid detection, the Norseman shed their footwear and drew near the unsuspecting clansman. One of the King’s men trod upon a prickly thistle and howled in pain. Alerted, her countrymen quickly won the day. Was this to be a war? Was Thayer trying to covertly assail her? Or had she simply over-thought the situation? Perhaps he had merely plucked the first flower he spied?
Uncertain of which tact was Thayer’s design, Elspeth remained on her guard. But her outward smile seemed to prompt Thayer into sensing a weakening in her defenses. He cautiously inched closer.
“M’lady, much danger lurks in this woodland at night for such a bonny lass. Mayhap ye require an escort? I would be only too pleased to offer my services,” he suggested, flashing a smile of brilliant white teeth.
Though Elspeth was immediately struck by the stark contrast of Thayer’s sun-bronzed skin against the gleam of his smile, she did not waver. And judging by the ease in which he employed his charm; Elspeth surmised he oft used both decidedly to his advantage.
“Mayhap ye take me for some defenseless chit who requires your protection,” Elspeth snapped, returning her dirk to the strap around her thigh.
As Elspeth nimbly slid the dirk into its leather sheath, she felt Thayer’s hungry gaze resting upon the curves of her upper thigh, prompting her to quickly drop her skirt’s hem. Though his eyes were clearly otherwise engaged and rendering him oblivious to it, Elspeth cast him a look of disdain for ogling her.
“I feel ‘tis only fair to forewarn ye my father insisted that I attain the means to desist from ever becoming a victim,” Elspeth declared proudly. “I have acquired skills with a dirk and a short sword. I can also use my hands, and body if the need arises, to defend myself.”
“I’ve no doubt that body could be used as a weapon, lass.” Thayer grinned wickedly at her.
Brushing aside Elspeth’s defiant stance, Thayer edged closer. His broad chin cleared her crown as he towered over her. At this proximity, she could feel his warm breath gently waft over her, feathering the crimson plaits across her brow. Breathing in his ruggedly masculine scent, Elspeth noted essences of sensual musk, infused with a hint of leather and pine. She strove to keep her features impassive. She was reticent to admit that while she scorned Thayer’s all too evident ogling, his nearness fascinated her. More than that, she dared to admit, it was surely beginning to entice her.
Elspeth shifted as she felt her knees weaken. Nearly overcome with an unfamiliar stirring deep within her womanhood, she felt herself begin to swoon. Her head felt light, her aplomb in tatters. Angry at herself for allowing Thayer’s nearness to affect her, Elspeth willed herself to break free of his bewitchment. As the fog that had filled her mind started to clear, Elspeth felt as if she were a mouse cornered by a cat. Hastily, she withdrew a pace.
“Surely, ye would not refuse the charitable proffer of a gentleman?” Thayer suggested.
Despite his genteel tone, his eyes of azure delved into hers, holding her fast, and betraying him.
Feeling the weight of his fervent perusal, Elspeth winced but did not wither.
She lifted her chin in defiance. “Dinna presume that I cannot find my way home without your aid. I am perfectly capable of taking care of meself.” Elspeth kept her tone cool, the chill in the night air befitting her temper.
“Oh? Are ye now?” Thayer inquired smugly, his eyes full of devilment. “And how, may I inquire, do ye intend on navigating these dense woodlands at night?”
“I can find me way through any forest with just the glow of the moon,” Elspeth replied disingenuously.
Secretly, she hoped Thayer didn’t spy the succession of branches she had snapped to serve as her guide back toward home.
Elspeth watched as Thayer’s eyes flicked skyward to the wan moon that hung listlessly in the dark sky above. He appeared momentarily taken aback. Why, she couldn’t say. Perhaps he was merely superstitious like many she knew, and feared he’d encroached upon the moon’s domain.
Or maybe he was disquieted for other reasons. When his gaze returned to her with fresh interest, she steeled herself against it with her dint of will. Elspeth felt a heat rise to her face. Did he mock her?
“If ye will not accept my offer of an escort, mayhap ye will remain and keep me company,” Thayer proposed. His eyes seemed to search Elspeth’s for any hint of acceptance.
“Nae, I’ll be off. My father, the Earl, will be looking for me in earnest should I not arrive at home presently.”
“Ye will stay,” Thayer insisted confidently and seemed to be fighting back a smile of anticipation.
“Ye act as if I posses no will of me own. I assure ye, m’lord, ye are sorely mistaken. Ye could not compel me to do anything,” Elspeth snapped, her anger kindling in her breast as though it were a bonfire budding to life. “Besides, if I were to flee, ye would never capture me!”
“Mayhap, mayhap,” Thayer conceded with a devilish grin. “Yet, as a MacCourt, I assure ye that I am very familiar with me father’s woodlands.” He laughed as the moon’s indigo luminescence reflected in his eyes. “I know nigh every inch of this land. Even if ye were to elude me presently, I would simply employ me wits to find ye again. Ye do not wish to engage in a battle of wits with me, now do ye, lassie?”
“Nae, that be for sure,” Elspeth replied with more than a hint of sarcasm.
Thayer lifted an incredulous brow. ”‘Tis because ye fear I will vanquish ye in such a contest, correct?”
“Nae, ‘tis merely inconceivable to engage in a battle of wits with an unarmed person,” Elspeth retorted dryly.
Thayer threw back his head and burst forth in hearty laughter. His broad shoulders shook as his booming laugh echoed through the forest, prompting a hare to scurry away in fright.
“Ye appear most confident for a man without a steed,” Elspeth noted, ignoring his mirth.
“And who says I am deficient in a steed, m’lady?” Thayer posed as he dabbed at the rivulets of tears which streamed down his reddened cheeks.
Hearing the far off bleat of Thayer’s tethered lamb, Elspeth smiled. “Well, if that be your steed, he is awfully quiet and terribly small.”
“I have ye ken that I do indeed possess a superior stallion. He is the finest steed in all of the Highlands. His name is Ethelion, and he rides like the very wind,” Thayer asserted, his confidence undeterred.
“I see. And how do ye ride?” Elspeth lifted an elegantly arched brow.
“With exceptional ability,” Thayer boasted. “In fact, my father once said I was part horse.”
“Oh?” Elspeth bit back a snort. “Which part?”
Helpless peals of laughter doubled Thayer over. He found it impossible to catch his breath. As he attempted to straighten up, his tartan shifted, exposing a small burlap sack.
“What’s that?” Elspeth inquired, gesturing toward the few strands of hemp that peeked out from the sack.
“‘Tis naught, m’lady,” Thayer answered far too quickly for her to ignore.
He shrugged, tucking the strands deep inside his tartan. He gave her a rakish smile, as if he’d envisioned something pleasing.
“Naught?” Elspeth replied skeptically, tapping her cheek with one finger. “Why, then, did ye conceal it with such haste?”
“Well, if ye must know, ‘tis a length of hemp for reining in wayward lasses, I mean, lambs.” Thayer flashed another charming but rakish grin. Elspeth could imagine a score of women falling prey to that smile.
“Lambs? I seeeeeee,” Elspeth drew out suspiciously.
“Aye, lambs,” Thayer insisted as he slid his gaze over her from her toes to her nose.
“Ye have a very queer look upon your face
, Thayer MacCourt. Just what the devil are ye thinking about?” Elspeth demanded, jamming her fists upon her hips.
Thayer didn’t respond. He stood transfixed, staring at her.
“I said, what might be on your mind?” Elspeth repeated impatiently.
“Forgive me, m’lady, did ye say something?” Thayer answered disjointedly.
“Och, forget it!” Elspeth snapped. Tugging on her shoes, she pivoted on her heels and began to stalk away.
As she bustled past Thayer, Elspeth spied Asilin. The kitten was looking up at her with a look of innocence as he idled nearby. She snatched him from the ground and clutched him close to her chest.
“I believe Lothian is the other way,” Thayer remarked with amusement.
Avoiding the eyes which surely mocked her, Elspeth huffed and immediately changed course.
In an instant, Thayer whipped the chord of hemp from under his plaid and cast it toward Elspeth. It looped over her slender neck and, with an unyielding tug, he reeled her in like a wayward lamb. Startled, Asilin squirmed from her grasp and dropped to the ground. There, he remained, as if to await her.
Before she could utter a protest, Thayer slid his arms around Elspeth’s waist and drew her body firmly against his. She gasped as she felt his hard muscular body against the softness of her own. His mouth greedily claimed hers but, having never been kissed, she was taken aback and froze. Although Thayer’s molten kiss weakened her knees and stirred her heart, Elspeth remained defiant and would not yield. As Thayer began to withdraw, Elspeth’s manner changed drastically.
Whatever impulse she might have had to either surrender or flee, she now summoned her resolve and regained her wits. As much as his kiss ignited a thousand tiny flames along her skin, this kiss, her first, was stolen! And, not being schooled in the manners of men, what was his intent thereafter? Her answer was to give him a swift kick in his shin.
Recoiling in pain, Thayer stumbled backward, clutching his leg. Grasping a nearby bough, he righted himself.
“Och, just what the devil do ye think ye are doing, lassie?” Thayer protested. “Am I not the gentleman who rescued ye?”