Capturing The Reluctant Highlander (Lasses 0f The Kinnaird Castle Book 3)

by Kenna Kendrick

  Her eyes searched for anything that was unusual or suspicious, and nothing seemed extraordinary or strange. But on the bottom shelf, she found a wooden box. She knelt down slowly to reach it. Her heart racing at the excitement, she opened it, happy to find it unlocked. Inside on a velvet cushion, lay a beautiful gold cross. It was covered in sapphires and rubies and had a thin golden chain that was piled at the top of the box.

  “‘Tis beautiful,” Ruth whispered, touching the gold surface gingerly. Despite her family’s wealth, she had never owned anything so stunning and had only seen examples of this excessive jewel work at parties and balls. But to see it up close, and to hold it in her own hand, nearly took her breath away.

  “Now what would a poor country minister be doing with a bauble such as this?” she thought aloud, pondering all of the possible reasons why Troy would have had such a thing.

  To her knowledge, he was born in the Lowlands but grew up in the Highlands until he joined his father’s business. What business it was, she was unsure, but it did not sound to her like the story of a wealthy upbringing. Perhaps a wealthy relative had bestowed this article upon him when they passed away.

  It could be possible, but the jewels! The person who had this fashioned would have had to call upon jewels from faraway lands. The bejeweled item seemed very out of place in the simple, modest dwelling of a seemingly simple, modest man. “So, you have even more secrets than I thought,” Ruth whispered to the empty room.

  She replaced the cross in the box and gave a cursory glance over the other parts of the room, but nothing else of note remained. She attempted to leave everything as it was before she closed the door and quietly wandered down the steps. She hoped that Troy was still busy saying goodbye to his parishioners, and she wouldn’t have to risk bumping into him. Once she exited the side door of the sanctuary, she was relieved to still see a line of people waiting to their goodbyes to him.

  She did not say goodbye. She simply squeezed through the doorway, hoping he didn’t notice her, and began the short journey back to the house, a whole host of ideas rolling through her mind as to what the cross was, who it belonged to, and why one Mr. Troy Ferguson had it.

  Ruth had been so busy on her mission and full of thoughts about it that she didn’t notice a handsome stranger watching her. His eyes had been on the sanctuary doors, and he was busy wondering what a very beautiful young woman was doing sneaking out of them without stopping to say goodbye to the minister. He also did not go up to the minister but followed the girl through the door, unbeknownst to her, and was greeted with a luscious lavender scent. Yes, he hoped to see her again.

  Chapter Eight

  Troy had written the sermon for Ruth and had enjoyed seeing her squirm under his gaze as he spoke the first words. He knew he was also guilty of deception, but nothing had given him greater pleasure than to come out the winner once again in their series of battles. She appeared quite perturbed, and that was exactly where he wanted her.

  After the drink with Jamie and William, his head had been swimming with doubts. What was his true motivation for avoiding her? Why did she make him want to think things and do things he had promised he never wanted to think or do again? But, despite that, he had truly enjoyed reverting back to his old playful self in the last few days. It was like he had been set free, instead of hiding from who he had once been. He was a changed person from his youth, but he had been so solemn, morose, and theological in the past few years, and now he was smiling again. Much more.

  Now, he prepared to go to visit Kinnaird Castle for Ruth’s 22nd birthday. She was so young and so innocent and pure. He was only 29, but he felt ages ahead of her with all that his past contained. She was so desirous of the world, and he was desperate to hide away from it. He smirked. They were nearly opposites in every way, and yet...he was excited to see her tonight. She looked so beautiful today with her hair in curls atop her head and a lovely gown. He knew with the firelight, wine, and merriment today, she would be a vision.

  But he would have to contain himself. He would need to bring out the rakish Troy that she had come to loathe once again. He had fallen a bit out of practice since he hadn’t seen her in a few days, but today was the perfect opportunity. He decided to dress well tonight and not wear the simple habit of a minister.

  He wore one of his best white linen shirts and cravats along with a dark blue woolen coat and dark breeches. He wore tall black boots, and when he looked at himself in the looking glass, he thought what a well-bred Scottish gentleman he was. So unlike the time of piracy and so unlike a minister. Who was he now? He had played so many roles; it was hard to keep track.

  As he left his home, he realized he didn’t have a birthday gift. He was reminded of how Colin had created a beautiful wooden boat for Ruth, and he scowled at the memory. He was certain the male suitors would be begging for her to dance tonight, and her arms would be full of gifts. It would be impolite to not bring something.

  Then he had an idea. He would head to the meadow where he had fallen atop her, unintentionally but pleasantly, and he would gather the beautiful lavender that grew there. It was so fitting for her as that was the scent he had smelled upon her when they had gotten so close.

  Yes, tonight would be interesting. He grinned at the thought.

  * * *

  The party was wonderful. Jamie and Amelia had organized everything, and the long wooden tables were full of delicious foods. There was roast pig and lamb, fresh bread, pies, potatoes, wine, and ale. There were musicians playing the bagpipes in the corner, and many guests had begun to dance. All of the clan were invited and Ruth’s friends as well.

  Once Ruth had entered the scene, her mouth dropped open with the spectacle of it all. She rushed to Amelia and Jamie and hugged them.

  “Thank you so much! This is wonderful. I never dreamed of having such a birthday party in all my life!” Her father, Lord Browne, had been quite strict about excesses, and so they had never had any parties or full celebrations beyond a solemn meal with the family.

  Amelia held Ruth’s hands in her own. “We wanted this new birthday away from London to be wonderful for you. We know you’ve been feeling a little bit stuck in Brechin, but I hope you can enjoy yourself tonight. You must dance the night away!”

  Ruth’s eyes welled up. Amelia always understood her, and she hugged her again, so grateful for such an event. She spotted Robyn in the corner and rushed over to her. Robyn hugged her and said, “Happy birthday, lass. Come and see the gifts everyone has brought for you.” She led Ruth by the hand to a small table at the side of the festivities, partially in the hall, lit by soft lamps. Here were everyone’s thoughtful gifts. Robyn had brought her sweet rolls. There were necklaces and bracelets made from leather. The seamstress had sewn her a new plaid; there were hair ribbons, restorative elixirs, and more. It was all so wonderful.

  “I never dreamed of receiving so many presents. What a wonderful day.” She sighed with happiness. Even though, at times, Brechin had felt like a prison, the people were warm and loving, and she enjoyed socializing with the townsfolk.

  “Come, you must dance!” Robyn said, but Ruth pulled away to go speak to Marianne and William.

  She hugged and kissed her sister and brother. “Thank you, both. Father would never approve you know,” she smiled at Marianne. “But that is what makes it all the more fun. Now, I do suppose I need to get my wine glass filled.”

  Marianne smiled, and William touched her on the shoulder, “You most certainly do, lass. I wouldnae have it any other way.”

  Ruth left after a servant filled her glass with delicious sweet wine that made her warm and happy. After a whole glass, she entered the dance floor to everyone’s approval and joined in the traditional dance with men on one side and women on the other. They spun and moved, and Ruth laughed and smiled so much her face began to hurt. She moved from one man to the next, and she had more young men from the village clamoring to speak to her and dance with her.

  She had pretended not to no
tice Troy’s arrival a half an hour after her own. She had held her head up high and danced away, smiling and flirting, hoping Troy would see that he had not affected her in any way. Nor had she missed him. Much.

  Unbeknownst to her, it did rankle in Troy’s breast to see the seemingly unending supply of young men who danced with her or received her bright smiles. Lately, he had only received scowls, and while that entertained him, he couldn’t deny that a smile from Ruth Browne was like looking at a sunrise after a night of a long storm. He stood with his ale glass in hand, watching the festivities from afar. He had not danced in so long, but he knew how to and thought perhaps it was time to try again. Surely it had nothing to do with the fact that Colin had now spent most of his time following Ruth around on the dance floor, hoping for another touch of her hand.

  Troy took his final sip of ale before placing his glass on a side table, and he entered the dance floor. Ruth was turned away after a spin and didn’t notice the hand that clutched on to hers as Troy joined the dance. She turned to see Troy looking down at her with a smile. “Hello, Ruth. Happy Birthday. Or should I say Miss Browne?”

  Ruth scoffed as she spun away to her next partner before returning. “Politeness doesn’t suit you, Mr. Ferguson. I did not realize you were a dancer. Come to battle your way in the group of suitors?”

  She grinned, hoping her comment had made its mark.

  “I wouldnae dream of it, Miss Browne. It seems ye have yer hands full. I see yer gift table is rather high as well.”

  “Why, yes. I am very grateful for the kindness and generosity of my friends. I can assume you are not among the number of guests that placed a gift at the table?” All this wine was making her bolder than usual. She loved it and embraced it. Now, she could really tell him what she thought of him.

  He spun her around. “Ye would be wrong there, Ruth. But I dinnae suppose ye have interest in seeing it.”

  Her eyes were wide with surprise. “That I do, Mr. Ferguson. Let us see what the great Mr. Ferguson has decided to give me as a birthday present.”

  She left the dance floor abruptly, to the sighs and disappointed looks of the other men. Troy followed after her, gleeful. As he had expected, the merriment of the party had made Ruth comfortable and happy.

  They approached the gift table and were hidden from view of the rest of the party. There was a bouquet of lavender sprigs that she hadn’t seen there before. They were tied with a linen cloth in a beautiful bow. She picked them up and smelled them. “Lavender,” she sighed. “Could this truly be from you?” She took another breath of the plants, the scent filling her with a sense of ease and pleasure.

  He nodded and crossed his arms, leaning against the stone wall of the corridor, his face lit by the flame in the sconce. “Aye, lass. A bit simple tae be sure, but well-meant.” Inside, Ruth’s heart melted. Or perhaps it was the wine that made her look at Troy in a softer light. She took another swig of it.

  “You are looking handsome tonight. Too handsome, as usual.” She said boldly, drinking again from her cup. Why should a woman not be open with her regard for a man’s appearance? She sipped from her glass once more, put it down on the table, and moved a step closer to him, forgetting about the vow to treat him with disdain, her heart softened by wine and by his thoughtful gift.

  Troy looked surprised, but then chuckled. “It seems the wine has made ye a bit kinder tae yer minister. What luck!” He moved closer as well.

  Ruth giggled, feeling quite warm and pleasant. She placed a hand on his chest. “You are quite a rogue, Sir. Preaching about deception with me in mind. And you having secrets of your own, I am sure.”

  Troy felt a twinge of fear at this statement. What did she know? But she couldn’t possibly know anything. She just imagined it to be so. He smiled down at her, enjoying the feel of her warm hand upon his chest. “And what secrets are those, lass?” His voice was soft like a purr. The ale had relaxed him as well, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away from a pair of enticing brown eyes that looked at him as if they knew everything.

  She lowered her voice. “You know my favorite scent. You are a skilled swordsman. And…” she paused, her eyes glistening gleefully. “Your naked form is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”

  Before Troy could react, Ruth placed her other hand on his chest, stood on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on his lips. His eyes were wide with shock at her actions. He’d known she was being flirtatious, but he hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t expected her, a well-bred Lady, to behave with such boldness, despite all that she’d told him about women. They really were full of surprises.

  He did not react at first, and then Ruth parted her lips, inviting his to open as well, and in that moment, Troy tasted her. It was the sweet taste of wine and something else that was unique to her. It was wholly Ruth, and the taste only fueled his fervent desire for her that he had attempted to keep hidden. He placed his hands on the sides of her face, closed his eyes, and opened his mouth to her as well, their tongues touching and exploring one another. They moved slowly and tentatively at first, but then the heat and passion began building, and with it, their speed as well. Troy tasted freedom, adventure, beauty, redemption, all in the lips of Ruth Browne.

  No woman before had made him feel as if the past did not matter and that there was a bright future. He gripped her waist to him and felt the lack of corset. He groaned with pleasure at this fact as Ruth moved her hands around his neck and turned her head to deepen the kiss, pulling him down to her. Her nipples hardened against his chest, and the ache from deep within her throbbed to attention, and a warm wetness pooled at her center.

  Troy moved his hands to Ruth’s backside, gripping her to him, and she felt his hard member against the middle of her thighs, and she moaned, knowing he’d found the ache of her pleasure. She moved her hips slightly to feel him more against her and was rewarded with another groan from Troy who moved his tongue further inside her, sucking, tasting, savoring. Ruth had never before experienced the like. It felt as if she was floating on the sea into the delicious sunset, her freedom within reach. The fresh scent of him made her twirl her hands in his hair, pulling him as close to her as she could. She did not want to breathe. There was only this.

  But then, Troy pulled away, an expression of concern on his face. He placed his hands on her shoulders and held her out in front of him. “I cannae,” he whispered. “‘Tis not right.” He fumbled for an excuse. “Ye are too young, lass, and I a member of the clergy, tae be found upright in all things.”

  Ruth’s face contorted into anger, and she pulled back. “Coward.” And she moved away from him, grabbing her wine glass as she went, her lips throbbing and reddened from the feel of his beard on her face. Once she’d left the hidden part of the hallway and was back in the center of her party, it was as if a coolness filled her, an emptiness in place of what had just been in her arms.

  Quickly the anger dissipated, and a wave of despair came over her, with tears beginning to pool in her eyes. “Too young?” she whispered to herself, as she touched her swollen lips. “He cannot?” Ruth closed her eyes at the beautiful memory, now tainted with his cowardice and rejection of her advances.

  He had embarrassed her yet again, and she felt that perhaps that was his plan all along. But, no, that kiss had been too real. Never before had a man kissed her as if his life and his future depended on it. She had never kissed a man that way either, but that, that kiss made her believe that all would be well in that one brief spark of a moment. But then he’d ruined it with reality, and she was afraid she could never forgive him. First, he didn’t believe in women’s abilities. Next, he’d seduced her and softened her and kissed her back. Then he had rejected her. What sort of a man was this? He truly was a rogue.

  Ruth wished she could hide away in her room, alone with her tears and embarrassment which made redness climb up her neck and into her cheeks. Gone was the heat of passion, and she was left only with the hue of anger and shame. She gulped down the rest of her wine
and beckoned for another. She held her chin up in defiance against what had just occurred. No, she would not let him see her falter. She would continue on. Once the May Day festival was finished, there would be no reason to speak any more to Troy Ferguson. He had made his choice, and now, any silly feelings she had harbored for the man, she attempted to once again swallow and lock tightly away.

  But that kiss.

  She fumed at herself and rushed back onto the dance floor, hoping a fresh dance with her admirers might bolster what little dignity she had left.

  Chapter Nine

  Troy awoke the next morning, squinting at the sunshine through his small window. He had not slept well, and he could not help but ponder on the reason why. Ruth. He sighed and covered his face in his hands before rubbing his beard in frustration.

  One reason he could not sleep was the fact that her lithe body had been in his hands, and she had been kissing him fervently and passionately, her whole being involved and intertwined in the kiss. It made him fully hard just thinking about the memory, and he remembered how, once he returned to his rooms, he’d placed his hand on his cock and rubbed until he bent over, shuddering in orgasm at the picture of her face and the feeling of her in his arms.