Mesmerized by a Roguish Highlander: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel

by Maddie MacKenna

  “Forgive me for taking these liberties, lass,” he said while reaching for her and pulling her into his arms.

  He wanted to kiss her, he needed to kiss her, he burned to kiss her, but held back. If he did touch her, he feared a bolt of lightning would run him through and through, without any mercy and rightly so. As man as beleaguered as he was, he knew he should not be sullying someone so untainted.

  So, he only hugged her even though it pained him to his core to not press his lips to her. It felt senseless…completely irrational…how a mere lick to her lips had ignited such a fire inside him. But it had and he knew it was not going to die away soon. What else could he do but bear the burn?

  “You still have not told me what I did.” Mary said, nestled under his chin.

  When she raised her eyes, and her gaze locked with his he smiled, “Ye gave me something to focus on more than me dismal situation with me Faither, Mary,” he muttered her name on a shuddering breath as he reeled back his longing to take her mouth.

  “Leith…” Mary said while parting from his embrace, “why do I sense that there is a lot more than what you are telling me?”

  Please don’t look under that rock, lass. Ye cannae handle what ye will find.

  “Believe me, lass,” and forgive me God for lyin’. “There is naything else.”

  She did not say anything more but he could feel that she did not believe him. Reaching out for her hand he smiled when she looped her arm around his. It was the only touch he could tolerate at the moment as he took her back to the great hall. Supper was winding down with half the hall empty. Tarrant was back at his seat and so were his wife, Logan and Adair Allanach but the steward and the two ladies, McCreery and Tulloch, were gone.

  He was glad Lady McCreery was gone. He had never liked her and kept wondering what Lady Robasdan saw in her. He seated Mary at the top of the table and went to the other end. There, he took his goblet and grasping the jug of water, while wishing it was wine, poured himself a glass. Lady Robasdan began to engage Mary in conversation and he was happy for her to be distracted.

  As he sipped the water, he reflected on the last few moments. The devil himself could not have done a better job as planting those seeds of lust in his gut. The thought of tasting her luscious lips, leaving a trail of possessive marks down her neck to sampling her breasts, had him spinning with lust, unlike anything he had ever felt before.

  Now, the fire or desire had settled into a smoldering blaze in his chest and reason was taking over passion. He knew he would have hated himself if he had kissed her, but now that he had not, he hated himself even more for losing the chance but felt deep within himself what he had done was right.

  He felt that a sleepless night was forecast for him and he did not object. He needed to get his priorities in order and figure out what he needed from himself when it came to Mary. He had offered to take her to his home where the temptation was going to be even stronger. But he would never rescind his offer. He’d rather jump into the nearby loch than take away her place of asylum.

  Mary was chatting with Lady Robasdan and picking at her slice of pie while Tarrant came close to him. “Dinnae break yer vow I can see.”

  “It was a test from hell,” Leith said dully. “It was like walking over coals barefoot when there was a lake of water beside me. Tarrant, I cannae explain to ye the temptation that gripped me before I forced meself to walk away.”

  Tarrant looked over to his wife, who was speaking to Mary, and dipped his voice, “How are ye going to control yerself when she’s there?”

  “I dinnae ken, friend,” Leith sighed in despondency, “and with the troubles of me Faither…I’ll have to find some way to make do.”

  It was a mirror of the morning they had set out for Aunt Linda’s house but this time, the air was white with fog. Mary was bundled up with her coat and a knitted scarf around her neck. His goodbyes were said already and he waited for Mary to say hers. She was kissed on the cheek by Lady Robasdan and hugged too before she mounted her horse and came over to him.

  “Lead the way, Leith,” she said. Her pleasant voice was half muffled from the scarf but he heard her. Nodding, he lifted his hand to salute Tarrant and then they were off.

  They crossed the bridge and traveled the short distance of the forest in silence. He took another route, sliced diagonally atop of Ettrick Waters as they had to get to Glasgow then past Loch Lamond and then into the Highlands. He did not want Mary to sleep in the forest so he took them on the roads. Roads always led to towns and towns always had inns.

  When they came to a halt in a small copse of trees miles beyond the northern gate of the Robasdan’s stronghold, Mary stopped her horse abruptly and turned to face him. “I will not ride a foot further until you tell me the truth, Leith.”

  “Beg your pardon?” he asked, askance.

  “What you told me last night was a pile of, God forgive me, hogwash. I know you’re keeping something from me. What is it? Haven’t I earned your trust by now.”

  “Drop it, lass,” he warned her, “it is not good for ye to ken.”

  “Then we’ll be here all night,” Mary announced.

  His jaw began to work in agitation. This Mary was not the lovely, soft-spoken person he knew. This was another side of her, probably the side of her that had spurred her to run from England. It was a side he was not prepared for and one he could not handle in his unstable state of mind.

  Last night he had twisted and turned on his bed with his heart in conflict with his mind when it came to Mary. Even when he rose before dawn, he still had not come to a set conclusion on how he was going to dispel or even hide his attraction to Mary.

  And now, she was not helping his case either. With her head tilted up so stubbornly, her lips flat and her cheeks red with determination, he found it too alluring to resist. If he stayed there one more moment, he was going to splinter down the fractured seams and crack in half.

  “Ye’ll be there all night,” he said stonily, “not I.”

  Pride took a fall and he shamed his ancestors by turning around and riding off. He sped his horse into a gallop, determined to outride his problems but a mile-and-half away, in the plains, he slowed down only to have the rush in his head clear and feel his problem slam back into his head.

  Guiding the now trotting horse with his knees, Leith pressed both of his palms to his eyes. “Goddamn it, I am a bloody coward and less than a dog’s vomit if I dinnae fix this.”

  With teeth gritted, he turned back the way he had come and rode back to where he had left Mary. To his surprise, Mary had not moved from the same spot. God, she was determined to not move, wasn’t she? She did not even shift as he hopped off his horse came to her and took her hand. “Ye want to ken what’s wrong, lass?”

  Her eyes lowered in caution, “I do.”

  “Good, here it is,” he said then without any preamble, hoisted her off her horse and back against a tree. Cupping the back of her neck, he kissed her.

  At first, the kiss was tender, almost chaste as they both knew she was not experienced in showing this sort of intimacy. Slowly, his tongue traced the seam of her lips, with a wet rough touch. Unsure of what to do she trembled in his arms but did not respond.

  “Open to me, lass,” he murmured with dark desperation. “Let me in, I’m dying to taste ye.”

  To give in to his plea was wrong but Mary had given no resistance when he had hauled her off the horse and she gave none this time, even when his arms enveloped her, and she was tight against his chest.

  His lips were on hers and his hold on her body sent soft tremors through her. This is not right, only married folk do this.

  Yet, an inner voice told her these newly awakened feelings—feelings she had not had until he had kissed her—were like the most natural thing in the world.

  She had been raised to know nothing about men, but she had been given the impression of touching a man this way was disgraceful and ungodly. But they couldn’t possibly mean this. Her stomach was in saul
ts and her skin tingling in desire. How could such a glorious thing be sinful, yet feel so amazing?

  “Mary,” he groaned and as his mouth captured hers again, she opened her lips. Timidly, allowing his tongue to meet hers she could only rely on her instinct. She tilted her head to the side and allowed him to teach her how to kiss him back.

  “Meet me halfway, lass,” Leith said as he pressed her closer. “Let yer body guide ye.”

  He kissed her again, gently, worshipfully, and then his hand fell to her backside. His touch became possessive, just as his kiss was and even though she felt like she was being consumed, she had no wish to pull away, or fight the rise of feeling surging inside her.

  With his strong hands caressing her and his mouth exploring hers hungrily, Mary tasted his passion and desire. When he pulled away to kiss her cheek, bite her lip softly and then kiss her again, she felt her head swoon. This feeling was senseless, it was not natural or perhaps it was, but she could not have ever known it. With her hands in his hair, Mary found herself wanting more…more of this feeling…more of him.

  Finally, he pulled away and his breath was warm against her lips. “Leith…where did this come from?”

  “Last night when ye licked yer lips,” he said. “I’ve never felt such…want for a woman in me life. I never expected it to come from something as simple as that. It blindsided me so much that I had to run. This is what I’ve been fighting, lass, from the moment I laid eyes on ye. I swore to meself that I would nay touch ye as I ken yer still a virgin, but the longer I forced this feeling away, the worse it got. Forgive me.”

  Mary slipped her hands from his hair to his shoulder. “Why?”

  His brows met in the middle, “Why what?”

  “Why should I forgive you?” Mary said. “You’re entitled to feel any way you want to. I know I’m not versed in this…connection, but you affect me too. I didn’t even know what it was until you kissed me.”

  “Mary,” Leith dipped his voice to a warning as he cupped her cheek and smoothed a thumb over her cheek, “Nay one can ken about this.”

  Recoiling from him, Mary felt stung. “Are you ashamed of me?”

  “What?” He exclaimed. “Nay, nay, lass, nay one can know because of the same reason when I told ye to be mute when we got to me home. I need to ken if ye will be in danger from me people. Those who despise outsiders.”

  “And if it does get out?” Mary asked, searching his eyes for any signs of deceit, “What will you do then?”

  This time, it was Leith who stepped away and rubbed a hand over his face, “I wish I could tell ye what I’d do lass but I cannae.” He shot a look over to her, “Dinnae take it as any way other than how I feel about ye. I will nae shun ye, but I must make sure yer safe.”

  How do you feel about me?

  She wanted to ask but bit her tongue. One kiss, no matter how passionate it was, was no indication of anything serious, was it? Was it just desire speaking instead of any other deeper emotion? Mayhap, Leith was feeling frustrated with his father and he was exorcising his frustration in another way?

  Still, reeling from the kiss that had stolen her breath away, Mary turned to her horse but the moment she grasped the pommel, Leith was helping her up. After she was seated, she took his hand and stared him right in moonstone eyes, “Do not…disappoint me, please.”

  The words she wanted to say, Please don’t betray me like those who I once trusted, did not pass her lips but they burned in her chest like a live coal, as they went on their way.

  11

  They made to Selkirk by the deepening dusk and found an inn. Fortunately—or unfortunately as Mary deemed it—the only had one room and it was tiny little thing. Leith was then saddled with sleeping in the barn.

  “Surely,” she begged the innkeeper and his wife, a woman with a body as thin and flighty as a feather, “surely there is something else you can do?”

  The innkeeper’s wife gave her a rheumy stare toward the table, “Take it or leave it, lassie. We run a reputable establishment an’ have no place for fornicators.”

  Mortified, Mary’s face turned crimson. “I beg your pardon! What fornicators?”

  “Yer a whore, innit?” the woman said plainly. “There is no room for ye to be plying yer trade here.”

  “Nay,” Leith rescued her, “There is nay such activity between us. I’m only escorting the lass to an asylum. She can take the room. I’ll take the barn. If you’ve some fresh straw on the ground and a blanket, t’will do fine for me.”

  “But Leith—”

  His eyes held compassion and amusement. “Lass, I’ve suffered much worse on the bare forest floors and rocky mountainsides than to murmur over the floor of a barn. It’s a warm place to sleep out of the elements. Take the room and I’ll see ye in the morning.”

  After Leith handed over the silver coins and the innkeeper handed him a rough horse-hair blanket, he bade Mary good night and left the room. The innkeeper's wife stared at her. “Well?”

  Following the woman to a room up the stairs, and then another to a room that was in the attic. The innkeeper’s wife pulled out a ring of keys from her apron and shoved one into the lock. With a grating screech, the door opened to reveal the aforementioned tiny room.

  It was a dismal place at best, only holding a small bed with a lumpy straw-filled mattress that nearly took all the space inside and a wooden chair shoved against the wall. The floor was devoid of a rug or even a sprinkle of rushes. A single tallow candle was stuck to the window sill.

  She sighed and dropped her sack on the chair and sat on the edge of the bed. Leith had kissed her, out of the blue, blindsiding her completely. With all the things that could be troubling him, she could have never expected that she was the reason. The kiss had changed something in her.

  It had awakened an emotion that scared her. The bottom of her stomach burned and an unnatural warmth had settled in her chest. When his tongue had met hers, she had shied away at first then a deep craving for his touch had taken her over. It felt as if she had been standing on a shoreline only to be swept away and sink under a sudden tide.

  Stripping down to her shift, Mary spread her coat over the bed and then, gingerly laid on it. Leith had told her what he wanted in a wife but not once had she heard him say the word love. He spoke about kindness and loyalty but nothing about love. He had plainly admitted that he had been with women but had said nothing about love and commitment. Did he even consider love? Was he like her parents who thought love was a useless emotion in marriages?

  Could he love me?

  She pressed her hand to her breast. What did love have to do with this?

  I’m getting ahead of myself.

  In the middle of her musing, a knock came to her door. Frowning, she sat up and took her cloak with her. She wrapped it around her before releasing the bolt and opening the door.

  The innkeeper’s wife was there with a tray of tea and a hunk of bread and cheese. “Compliments of the inn.” The words were said so sourly that Mary believed they had curled the cheese more than the vat the milk was poured in.

  “Thank you,” she said while reaching out for the tray.

  With a curt nod, the woman left and Mary took the tray back to the bed to rest it before going back to bolt the door. She broke the bread then nibbled the cheese. Halfway through the makeshift meal, she set the bread away and sipped her milk tea.

  With the cup back resting on the chair, she went to sleep knowing that they had to set out early the next morning. Her dreams were little more than grey mist but the feeling was daunting. As the mist came together it formed her mother who was staring at her with cold disappointment.

  “You’ve ruined yourself, Mary,” Lady Harlington said icily. “All my efforts are now washed away in vain. How could you allow that man to taint you? You are no daughter of mine, if you are beginning to act like a harlot!”

  The last words were snarled in such hate that Mary jumped out of her sleep and pressed a hand to her beating heart. She swallowed
dryly and shucked the lapel of the coat from her side.

  She stumbled to the window barefooted and pressed her forehead on the cold stone. “Mother…”

  Mary did not need the powers of a mystic to know what the dream was trying to tell her. She knew she was supposed to be ashamed of letting Leith kiss her that way, but try as she might, she could not dredge up a speck of regret for it. Mayhap if Leith had not taken her from the safe shores of her naivety and thrown her into the deep waters of desire like he had, would she had ever dared breach them herself?

  The bite of the cold floor was getting icier but she stayed at the window as the skies began to lighten. Truly this was God’s palette. The dark sky began to glow a pale pink and orange, both hues streaking through the night’s dark grayish purple. Soon the golden rays from the sun would be banishing all other colors and fair blue skies would be above.