Grunting under his breath, Balfour huffed out, “What I can do is to go and dig into me granny’s books and if I find any of what she wrote down about healing the mind, send ye some healing herbs from the mountains and instructions on how to use them.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Leith replied in relief for more help. “Now…let’s see if we can get ye that ale? By the barrelful, eh?”
“Nothing else will do,” Balfour grinned.
15
“Here,” Fiona’s hateful snarl had Mary inching away. The woman’s face was tight with dislike as she dumped a tray of goblets into her tub. “Wash these.”
Thunder made the stone walls in the kitchen vibrate and in the distance white, jagged lightning streaked across the sky. After nearly seven hours of non-stop rain, there appeared to be no end of the downpour in sight. Getting off her stool, Mary dourly looked out the window to the clouded, misty mountains from her place in the corner of the kitchen.
Like the grey skies, her mood had dipped. It was another three-day stretch between Leith’s last visit to her and she truly began to wonder what was going on between them. She had opened up her soul to him and he had seemed very receptive to her words, but now with no sight or word from him, she was beginning to wonder if he had taken her words to heart.
Another thing that bothered her, and though she knew it should not, she began to wonder about the true relationship between Leith and Rinalda. Their connection did not feel like one that should rest between a laird’s son and a servant. She did not dare ask either though as Rinalda thought she was mute, and it felt disgraceful to ask Leith.
“Mary?”
Her head darted away from the window to the woman, Nella who was the head woman in the kitchen. She sighed yes.
“Lady Lenichton wants to speak with ye,” Nella said. “She wants to see ye in her day room. Upstairs, third door to the left.”
Instantly, she began to get nervous but nodded obediently. “Good, go now, she’s waiting on ye.”
Quitting the room, Mary took the stairs and the corridor above to the third door on the left. She paused to knock.
“Come in, Mary,” a quiet voice called. “I’m expecting ye.”
Her cold fingers trembled nervously and she pushed the door in and went to stand in front of the Laird’s wife. The woman was truly a tiny little thing that a stiff breeze would most likely topple. Mary saw thin, spidery fingers knit and unknit themselves and the dark gown she had on made her sallow complexion just that much sicklier. Her head was covered with a dark veil and the only rich color the woman had were her bright blue eyes.
Curtsying, Mary stood with her stomach twisting in knots. What did this woman want from her?
“Sit, dear, please,” the old woman said. “Do an old woman a favor and sit with me.”
Completely anxious, Mary did what she was asked to and to her surprise, the lady reached out and took her hands. “Listen to me, dear child, I dinnae ken if Leith has told ye much of anything but me husband is ill. Very ill.”
She did her best to look shocked and her forced expression seemed to find acceptance with the woman, “I’ve loved Aaron all me life from when I was a lass as young as ye. I still love him to me heart, but there are days when seeing him pains me so dearly. I am the one who cooks for him, Mary as I cannot turn away from all me wifey duties to him. Ye look like such a gentle, loving and caring woman. What I do ask that, when I am not able, will ye take his food to him for me?”
All the anxiety whooshed from her in a moment. The lady looked mired in pain and even as if she was fighting back tears. What was the harm in doing such a simple request? She nodded.
Light sprung to the woman’s eyes and her thin lips were wide in a smile. Tears did drip from her eyes this time, but not in sorrow, “Oh, thank ye, lass, thank ye. May God bless ye.”
Feeling the lingering stains of her anxiety peter away, Mary signed the question for “do you need help”. She wanted to ask if the woman needed any more help but this was the best she could do. Lady Lenichton read her hands for a moment then shook her head, “Nay dear Mary, that’s all I need from ye. Ye may go back to the kitchens.”
Dipping another curtsy, Mary left the room. Such a sweet woman, I am so sorry for her.
It was not until she got to the kitchens when she began to wonder why she had been called up. The Laird had been ill for many months, why was the lady asking for help now? Surely there were many others she could have asked, long before her? Was it that the Lady had reached the end of her rope?
From the grief and hopelessness, I could see in the lady’s eyes, that must be it.
Returning to her chores, Mary washed until the dishes stopped coming and her hands began to get wrinkly. Drying them off, she went to eat her supper and took her trencher from the oven and spooned sugared mackerel and plucked rolls of freshly-baked bread and sat on a stool to eat.
Eating by the fire light, she nodded to each of the other servants that left the room. Finished with her meal, she washed her hands and went to her lodging. Thank god the rains had ended but the land was wet. By the time she got inside, the tails of her dress were damp with the dew from the grass’ blades.
She nearly reached the pathway to the servants’ house when an arm wrapped around her waist and just as she was about to scream, another covered her mouth. “Shhh lass, keep calm, it's me.”
Fear turned to anger and she had to stop herself from biting down at his hand. Oh, how Leith was going to get an earful when he did release her! He carried her through a copse of trees to a bench that was hidden away from the rest of the lawn. It was so dark; the bench was a hunk of black stone.
Instead of sitting her down he sat her on his lap. “I wanted to see ye all day but damned if I could steal away from those around me.” He pulled his hand away, “I ken me actions were despicable, be free to slap me if ye need to.”
His words took all the bluster from her, and she huffed, “You deserve it but although I want to, I won’t.”
“May I kiss ye then?” he asked cheekily.
Shifting on his lap she said. “You may. Consider this your first lesson. Teach me how to really kiss you.”
He leaned close to her, his chest brushing hers, and he nuzzled her cheek, dropping kisses on her skin. Her breath hitched in anticipation. “First, ye need to set the mood, kisses are good but it’s the feeling in yer chest, that expectation for yer heart to sing that makes a kiss all that much better. Are ye feeling that hammering in yer chest yet?”
She wanted to tell him that when she was within three feet of him, her heart was always hammering, but she refrained. Perhaps he would take it the wrong way. “Yes, I am.”
Leith kissed her with a sweet, caring tenderness that was slower than molasses in winter but had her body hotter than a furnace. His tongue was mobile, exploring her mouth like one seeking for treasure. Her hands slipped up his arms and up to his shoulders.
Parting from him, she whispered on his lips, “What’s next?”
“The kiss that teases,” he replied. “It makes you want more but the other won’t let ye have it.”
This kiss was gentle teasing like the exploring one before. His tongue parted her lips and tongue swept over the edges of her teeth and then delved deeper—a wet, slick assault on her senses coaxing her to submit to the devastating skill of his mouth—before he pulled back. Mary was not having any of it and pressed herself hard on him, seeking the almost utopia his kiss was giving her.
He was laughing and she tempted to slap him. “What?”
“I guess the teases worked,” he smiled and trailed his fingers over her neck. The touch was so light she shivered and gooseflesh rose on her skin. “There are teasing kisses and teasing touches too. Either one can get ye the result yer looking for but combined…” he kissed her and caressed the back of her neck at the same time. “it’s more effective.”
His voice had dipped to a guttural husk and that sent more pinpricks of arousal over her skin and through
her body. “I…I believe it is.” Her fingers trailed up his jaw, and she smiled when she felt similar tiny bumps rise on his skin. It felt good to know she was not the only one feeling this sensual sensation. “What’s next?”
“A kiss that is only meant for the bedroom,” Leith said as his hand stroked down her back and up, “Yer nae ready for that yet. Hell, neither am I.”
She knew she might hate herself for asking but she had to, “Why?”
“Because,” he dipped his lips to her ear, “I dinnea ken I'll have enough of ye when I do.” The tension in his corded body and the warning in his gruff voice hinted that her suspicion was right. She had bit off more than she could chew. “The things I want to do to ye are too much for ye and will twist yer sensibilities upside and down.”
Mary knew that she was playing with fire but the burn in her stomach had her stocking the blaze higher. “Like what?”
The hands on her waist tightened. “Lass, nay. Dinnae ye tempt me,” His tone had the consistency of cracking glass. With one push it would shatter down the seams. She decided to play his game and leaned into his ear. “You said you’d teach me…then teach me.”
“Nay,” he said.
He was close to breaking, and not knowing or caring where her bravado had come from, she pressed her lips on his and moaned, “Please.”
“Ye little vixen,” he said through clenched teeth. “Ye’ll learn soon enough to nay play with what ye cannea handle.”
Spinning her on his lap to have her back to his chest he nudged his knees under her legs and spread them. One hand was on her full breast kneading the mound to a flush peak while the other was rucking her dress up to her thighs.
He then took her hand and slipped it under the cloth to her center. “Before ye can have anythin’ to do with me, ye need to ken yer own body. Touch yerself.”
A lush decadence spiraled within her. With Leith’s hot, words in her ear and his hand on hers she touched herself to find wetness she had not accounted for. “What do ye feel lass?”
“I’m…” she hesitated as her cheeks burned, “slick.”
“Good,” he murmured, the pinprick of his shaven jaw sliding over her skin. “I want to watch ye ken yerself, feel the pleasure ye can give yerself.”
Thank god it was dark or she would have never obeyed him. Slowly, she stroked the wetness on her slick folds. As she stroked, a heady pulsing demanded her attention and she lifted her finger to stroke over a slippery nub. Her back arched on Leith’s chest as bliss darted up to her spine, but she stroked and pressed on the nub even more. Pleasure was zig-zagging under her skin and a tightening began to build in her stomach.
“Keep stroking,” he said hoarsely. “Tease yerself.” The sensations were building and rising like a full-moon tide. Then his finger joined hers but this time they slid down to her entrance and a tip poked in. “On a bed, me mouth would be right here, lass, me tongue inside ye like this.” His finger began to push inside her and pull out. Her walls clenched over the small intrusion and more wetness coated his fingertip. “I’d taste yer honey, somethin’ that I ken will be sweeter than anything bees could provide. I’d take ye with me mouth and when ye shatter, I’d drink all ye could give me.”
“L−Lei-” her voice was shuddery. Heat was consuming her inside and out, “I—”
“Me Laird!” a frantic female voice cut through the air. “Me Laird, where are ye! We need ye!”
The fire inside Mary was put out quicker than if someone had upended a bucket of icy water over her head. Heart pounding, she scrambled from his lap and got her dress in order. Leith looked cross but he pressed a finger to his lips and they got off the bench.
Without another look he parted the bushes, making sure they closed behind him, “I’m here, what do ye need?”
“It’s yer Faither, Me Laird, he’s been calling for ye!”
16
Calling for me…is it true! Has he come back to his senses?
Leith wanted to spin around and make sure Mary was all right but he did not dare. He just had to hope that she would get to the servants’ quarters safely. The building was not too far away.
He hurried off back to the main building, hoping that Mary would forgive him for his abrupt leave. The woman behind him was hurrying with him back to the castle but did not go further than the ground floor. He assumed she was only one of many messengers but could not spare the time to ask her.
Taking the stairs three at a time, he climbed to his father’s chambers faster than he had ever had. His hope was building so high that he knew deep devastation would consume him if his expectation was shattered. He got to the door and bypassed Dugald and Finlay with terse nods and pushed the door in.
He stopped short only two steps in when he saw his father sitting on the edge of his bed, his skin looking a bit grey and his face looking a bit thinner but—thank you, God!—his father’s grey eyes were clear! Blessedly clear.
“Faither?” he asked, daring to edge closer. “Faither, do ye ken who I am?”
A head of dark hair stricken with grey lifted, and an exasperated look crossed his father’s face. “Of course, I ken who ye are, stop playing games, son, and sit.”
Leith could have collapsed on the floor but forced his wooden legs over to one of the chairs near the bed. He could not believe his eyes…eyes that had hoped to see this very sight for weeks on end. He began to wonder how this sudden change had come along.
“How are ye feeling?” he asked cautiously.
“I’m…clear enough,” Aaron said faintly. “Me body’s nay in pain and me head is less…foggy.”
Shaking his head, Leith said, “I just cannae believe it’s ye back in yer right mind. I’ve been hopin’ and prayin’ for this day to come through from the day ye got sick. Do ye ken how it happened?”
Thinner shoulders shrugged. “I cannae tell ye, son. I just ken that I woke up this morning with that dratted fog in me mind gone. The pain in me chest was gone too and so was the urge to put me fist through those around me,” Aaron said. “I feel so much better but, goddamn, am I hungry. Listen, I’ve been told that I was horrible to yer mother, would ye call her for me and then we can talk about other matters.”
A surge of relief filled him at the sight of his father, sane and speaking with sense. He hugged his father quickly, trying to not use too much strength on his sire’s frail body.
“Och, son,” his father grunted, “when did ye get so strong.”
“I cannae take all the credit, Faither,” Leith said thankfully, “Yer seed had something to do with it. I’ll get mother for ye and what do ye want to eat?”
“Beef and ale mostly,” Aaron said. “Ye can fill in whatever else ye want, but I need those two. Now get.”
Happier than he had ever been, Leith left the room. Dugald was resting on the opposite wall with a small smile on his face. “When we first heard him call for ye, we kent he was oot of his mind but when he kept calling for ye, we realized there was somethin’ different aboot his words this time.”
“And he dinnae call for mother?” Leith asked with a confused frown.
“Nay, just ye,” Finlay chimed in. “Ye must be happy.”
“Happy is a trite word to what I’m feeling,” Leith said as he went off to do his father’s bidding. Halfway down the stairs, he stopped and rested his almost-feverish forehead on the cool stone wall. “Thank ye, God, me Faither’s back to his senses. Please, let him stay that way.”
With each step to the kitchens, joy grew inside him. He was elated when he gave the news to the cooks and heard their cries of happiness too. Then, when receiving the promise to have the best piece of beef being sent up to his father, he went off to find his mother.
He knew she was going to be as relieved and happy as he was. When he got to her door, he knocked but did not expect to get an answer. He then pushed the door open in time to see his mother sitting up in a bed that was too wide for her small frame. Meager moonlight barely penetrated the thick curtains but he could
still see her clearly.
“Leith?” She asked, “What are ye doing here?”
He came closer and sat on the edge, “Great news, mother. Faither is back to his senses.”
Sarah’s hand covered her mouth, “Ye lie!”
Gently taking her hand from her mouth, Leith rubbed her wrinkled hand. “He’s awake and aware, mother, and he’s askin’ for ye. He wants to apologize for hurting ye. Please get dressed and come with me.”
“Aye,” she said. “Aye, please find me shoes while I put on a robe.”
After helping her out of bed, Leith scouted under the wooden frame for her slippers while she put on a robe. She sat back on the edge as he put her shoes on her. “Do ye want a cap, mother?”
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