Closing his eyes, he swore he could already taste the salty-sweet flavor of her skin. Feel her warm and welcoming in his arms…
What would it be like to lie with her?
Nora smiled at Bavel as she played. She'd never had a night like this one in her entire life. She was making music. Real music!
Ewan sat across from her, his presence electrifying while Catarina began to dance to the music they made. Pagan stayed to the side, his eyes never wavering from Catarina.
Lysander produced a drum that he used to mark the beats of Catarina's movements. Nora was impressed with Catarina's exotic and wild dance until she happened to glance over at Ewan, who watched the woman as if transfixed by her.
He reminded her of a hungry wolf watching over a hen it wanted to gobble up.
For the first time in her life, she felt a vicious stab of jealousy.
How dare Ewan look at Catarina like that! Like he wanted to kiss her or do something more.
He wasn't supposed to look at her.
Nor was he supposed to make Nora feel hot and nervous when he sat too near her. Yet he did all those things and more.
Needing to distract him from Catarina, Nora handed Ewan her lute. "Would you like to play?"
He shook his head. "Nay."
"Oh, come now," Viktor said. "Play a song if you're able."
"No, really," Ewan insisted. "I've never played before an audience."
"I should like to hear you play," Catarina said, her voice low and sultry.
Nora frowned at the suggestive tone.
"Very well then," Ewan said, setting the lute in his lap.
Now Nora truly was upset. He wouldn't play when she asked him to, but he played for Catarina?
He was an evil man!
The men began to play a fast-paced tune, one that allowed Catarina to dance like Salome. Only it wasn't Ewan's head the woman was after, Nora was sure of that.
Och now, how could Catarina be like this after their discussion? The woman was a Judas. A tall, dark-haired, beautiful Judas who might tempt Ewan away from…
Me.
The single syllable hung in her mind.
It was true. She liked Ewan. More than she should, and the thought of him with Catarina was enough to make her want to do something vicious to the woman.
But he didn't belong to her. He wasn't hers to control, and she had no right to tell him whom he could and couldn't stare after.
Whom he could desire…
Ewan could never be hers.
He wasn't what she wanted for a spouse.
Why, he'd be just like her father, belching about the table, always off and practicing with his sword. Gathering his friends around for boisterous nights of boasting and drinking while they told and retold the same boring stories over and over again.
She'd spent her life watching her graceful, dainty mother being dogged by her much larger father, who would scarce let the poor woman out of his sight. He was always making loud demands for her mother's time. Wanting her to partake of his less than refined activities, such as watching him fight.
She couldn't count the times her father had whisked her mother up in his arms and carried her to their chambers while her mother protested, telling him she had duties to attend to.
And did he listen?
Nay, never.
While her mother preferred to speak softly, her father bellowed. Her mother loved poetry and music; her father liked caber tossing and stag hunting.
Nora had never seen two more mismatched people in her life. And while her father was a good man with a caring heart, he and her mother had nothing in common.
Why, they scarce spoke to each other. Her father demanded and her mother nodded.
Nora wanted more out of her husband than that. She dreamed of a man who could talk to her about science. One who could keep up his side of the conversation and not get irritable because she was asking too many questions.
There was nothing wrong with questions. But her endless inquisitiveness oft made her father lose his patience and order her from the hall.
I love you, Nora child, but one more word from you, lass, and I swear my humble brain will boil over until I'm as empty-fated as old Seamus. Now get to your room and give me peace afore I lock you in therefor the rest of eternity.
Nora winced at the words she had heard countless times.
Ewan was her father all over, she was sure of it. The only difference was their appearance. Her father was short and blond, not gargantuan and dark.
But inside, they might as well be the same man.
Yet as she watched Ewan play, she noted something odd about him. His eyes were brighter than they had been before. The corners of his lips turned up, almost as if to smile.
He loved music as much as her father despised it.
That was a little common ground between them. Something the two of them shared.
Och, lass, what are you thinking?
You tie yourself to a man such as he, and you'll be gone forever.
Marriage was good only for the man. The woman lost all sense of herself. She became lady to his lordship. Forever docile to him. Forever deferring to him.
She would become her mother.
She didn't want that. She wanted her own life, just like her Aunt Eleanor.
Eleanor answered to no man. She did as she pleased and lived her life to the fullest. She alone made Henry, king of England, bend to her will.
Aunt Eleanor was her ideal.
Aye, Nora not only wanted to be named for her aunt, she wanted to be her. Powerful. Decisive.
A woman in charge of her own destiny.
Catarina twirled around the fire, then held her hand out to Nora. "Care to dance?"
Nora hesitated for only an instant. "Show me how?"
Catarina pulled her to her feet, then raised her skirt up so that Nora could watch her feet.
Nora followed her carefully while the men played.
"You look as if you have French blood in you, little Nora," Viktor said as he smiled at her attempts to duplicate Catarina's movements.
Nora returned his smile, pleased by his praise.
But she knew she was no match for Catarina, who moved as if she were one with the music.
Catarina led her around in a twirling bit of dance.
Nora glanced to Ewan, then swallowed. He wasn't looking at Catarina anymore, he was staring at her.
With searing heat.
With hunger.
With need.
It made her burn. Imagine him looking at her like that. She wouldn't have thought it possible.
Yet he did.
And that look…
It made her feel womanly and beautiful. For the first time in her life, she understood passion and desire.
Ewan was magnetic and powerful, and his need for her was so intense that it was virtually tangible.
Unaware of why Nora had stopped moving, Catarina grabbed her hands and whirled her around again. And even though she danced, Nora's gaze continually went back to Ewan and the heat of his celestial eyes that burned through her.
After they had finished the dance and music, Catarina and Nora cleaned up the mess from supper. The men packed away the instruments and made pallets for everyone.
Catarina was putting away the pot when she met Nora's bemused stare.
"For a woman not interested in Ewan, my lady, you certainly looked ready to kill me over the fact he was paying attention to my dance earlier."
Nora's face flushed but she wasn't willing to let anyone know just how much she really did desire Ewan MacAllister. "I most certainly did not."
Catarina laughed. "You can't hide the truth from me, Nora. I saw your heart. It was plainly written in your eyes."
She wrinkled her nose at the woman. "I think you just like to play matchmaker, don't you?"
"Only when I see two people who belong together."
Nora scoffed. "I do not belong with Ewan MacAllister. Believe me."
"Whateve
r you say." But her tone carried the full weight of Catarina's doubt.
Nora left her to return to the others. Bavel, Viktor, Pagan and Lysander had withdrawn to bed. Only Ewan remained. He sat alone before the fire, staring idly into the flames and drinking from a large goblet.
Ewan didn't appear drunk, but a cloud of sadness engulfed him.
Nora dropped her gaze to the lute at his feet. "Are you all right, my lord?"
He grunted.
She waved her hand in front of his face.
At first he paid her no heed until finally he blinked and looked up at her.
"Are you planning on going to bed soon?"
"I know not," he said quietly. "Mayhap in a bit."
She took a seat beside him, wanting to banish the sadness she saw inside him. Wanting to add a little humor to his night. "Did you ever look up at the sky as a child?"
He frowned. "Not really."
Nora leaned back on her hands and looked up at the bright sky where millions of stars twinkled down at them. "My mother used to tell me that every star in the heavens has a story attached to it."
She pointed to a star just south of Ursa Minor. "That one there she told me was once an ancient Greek soldier named Abrides. She said he was a noble Spartan commander whose wife had died. Distraught, he looked up at the heavens and demanded vengeance on the one responsible.
"The queen of the sky"—she pointed to a collection of stars a little way over that looked like a lady—"told him that in death there is no satisfaction. Only pain will find you. So he asked her when the pain would lessen. The queen told him never. The pain is what shows us how much we loved them. If you truly love someone, then the pain of their loss will always be in your heart."
He gave her a hard stare. "Why are you telling me this?"
She returned his stare, hoping to make him see past his guilt. "I'm telling you this because if you loved Kieran so much that you still ache like this after his passing, then he must have known how you felt before he died."
"Aye, and he died because I betrayed him."
"Nay," she said. "He died because he wasn't capable of living with the pain you have."
A tic worked in his jaw as he turned away from her. "This is not comforting me."
She put her hand on his arm and felt his biceps flex. Her poor Ewan. Would he ever find a way to forgive himself for something he'd had no part in?
How she wished she could make him lay aside his guilt and find happiness once more.
"The queen looked at Abrides," she began again, "and asked him who he would have her kill for his wife's death.
" 'Kill me,' he said. 'For it was my want of a son that cost her her life. Had I been content as I should have with her alone, she would be with me now.'
"The queen shook her head in sorrow and said to him, 'We all must die. Nothing can ever change that. But it is how we live when we are here that matters most. I will not kill you,' she said, 'because your death will not set things right. Only by living can you do that.'"
"Living doesn't make things right," Ewan said, his deep voice scarce more than a whisper.
"Perhaps. But do you really think your brother would want you dead?"
"If he were alive, I am quite sure he would kill me."
Nora gave a small, sad smile at that, not believing it for a second. "Beat you perhaps, but not kill you. I think had Kieran had the strength to live, he would have found someone worthy of his love, and now the two of you would be laughing over the foolishness of his infatuation with Isobail."
Anger flashed in his eyes, turning them a stormy blue. "You've no right to speak about my brother. You didn't know him and you don't understand—"
"I do understand, Ewan."
She reached out and touched his face, turning his chin until he looked at her. She wanted him to see the truth. Desperately. "I know exactly what it's like to love someone with the whole of one's heart and then to have to smile as that person goes off to marry someone else. I know how much it hurts. I know how much I wanted to die when it happened to me, and every time I think about the fact mat had I married him, I wouldn't be facing a life with Ryan now, I could scream with the frustration of it."
His eyes snapped fire at her as if the words were hurtful to him. "Who were you in love with?"
Nora moved back a bit as her memories tore through her. "Michel de Troyes."
Even after all this time, just saying his name tugged at her heart. "He came to my father's castle three summers back and was the most incredible man you can imagine. Handsome. Charming. Well educated. He made me laugh until my sides ached. I thought he felt the same way for me until I learned that my mother's lady-in-waiting had been meeting with him. In the end, I had to smile and wish them well while inside I wanted to tear every shred of Joan's hair from her head."
Ewan's gaze studied her face. "Did he know how you felt about him?"
"Aye. As you well know, I tend to rattle on about everything, and I confessed my feelings. After I had embarrassed myself, he told me about the two of them."
"At least he was honest with you."
"Aye, but the hurt was no less severe for it."
He patted her hand, his eyes searching. "Do you love him still?"
"Aye, to a degree. I think there is a part of me that will always love him. But I don't think we would have had a happy marriage. I was young and he enchanted me."
"And Ryan?"
She shuddered. "I shall spend the whole of my life lamenting him."
"I am sorry for that. But how do you know this man doesn't love you?"
Nora laughed bitterly. "How could he? Ryan knows nothing of me even though we grew up as neighbors and he visited often. All he ever did was drop frogs down my back and pull my braids. He is a beast. A complete and utter beast. All he knows of me is that I am my father's heir and that I carry the weight of his fortune in my dowry. 'Tis all he cares for. I could be a pox-ridden mule and he would be glad to have me."
"I doubt that."
"Doubt all you like. It is truth and well I know it."
She leaned forward until their noses almost touched. "So you see, you are the stronger man, Ewan. You are still here. You came home when another man wouldn't have had the courage to face his family after running away with Isobail and then being abandoned by her. At the time, you thought your brother would be there to laugh at you or beat you, and yet like a man, you returned to take your punishment."
He drew a deep breath and looked away from her. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, my lady. But nothing will ever make this right. It was my actions that caused his death and no other."
Nora tapped him on the shoulder twice to emphasize her point. "Think for a moment, Ewan. Had you not run off with Isobail, do you honestly believe she would have stayed with Kieran and married him? Nay, she would not. She would have run off anyway to meet her lover, and he would still be dead because she was gone."
By his face, she could tell the thought had never crossed his mind before. "But I betrayed him."
"Isobail betrayed him, and he betrayed all of you by killing himself. What he did was his fault, not yours. He died because he couldn't live without Isobail, who would have gone to England regardless of who escorted her. Had it not been you, I am certain she would have found another man to lie to and deceive. Either way, Kieran would have perished."
Ewan sat there in silence as he contemplated her words. He knew she was right and there were many nights when he lay awake cursing and hating Kieran for what he'd done. Hating his brother for leaving him behind to feel this pain and guilt.
But it didn't stop what he felt in his heart.
It was there that he saw the brother he'd known. The boy who had helped him make mischief on Braden and Lochlan. The man who had taken him aside and introduced him to drinking and gaming.
There was seldom a happy memory of his childhood and youth in which Kieran wasn't a large part.
He had respected and loved Kieran. And he had paid his brother bac
k by stealing away with his woman in the dark of night.
Ewan growled at the fierce pain stabbing his gut and heart. Unable to stand the weight of it, he got up and headed for the woods to be alone.
He wanted to run away from it. He wished he could just bury the past and forget all that had happened.
But there was no escaping it.
No matter what Ewan did, it was always there. Hurting. Aching. Demanding and bleak. It accused him of being wrong and told him how worthless he was. How he had wronged his entire family.
Drinking was the only way to reduce the pain of it.
Drinking was all he had now.
"Ewan?"
"Leave me alone, Nora," he growled without pausing. "I need to be by myself."
"Ewan," she repeated, her voice more insistent.
He turned to face her.
She came to stand before him, her face pale and concerned in the moonlight. "I think you're a good man, and if Kieran was half the man you are, then 'tis a shame he's no longer here. Isobail was a great fool if she failed to see that."
Her words reached out to him in a way nothing had in a long, long time.
She moved toward him, slowly, like a wraith in the night's mist.
"Don't touch me, Nora," he breathed as she reached to touch his face.
"Why?"
"If you touch me, I'll kiss you, and if I kiss you right now, I'm not sure I'll have the strength to pull back and be satisfied with just the taste of your lips."
Nora trembled at his whispered words.
By the light in his eyes, she could see the truth of it. He wanted her.
Part of her wanted his touch, and part of her was terrified of it. She was terrified of what she felt for him.
Here there were no lies. No hiding.
She could lie to Catarina, but not to herself.
Nora had never been with a man, and until now she'd never really felt anything more than a passing curiosity about a man's touch.
But for some reason, she was more than just curious about Ewan.
What would it feel like to hold a man like him?
One who was wild, untamed?
One who could make her quiver with nothing more than the sound of his deep, rich voice?
Would he be gentle with her or would he mount her like an animal whose only desire was to sate himself?
Taming the Scotsman Page 11