Mesmerized By A Roguish Highlander (Steamy Scottish Historical Romance)

by Maddie MacKenna

  She might not have realized it but Rinalda had brought up a subject that Mary had tried to not worry about. She swallowed in anxiety but dressed quickly.

  When Rinalda came back, she dared to ask, “When you say commitment, what do you mean? Is it that he has a child somewhere but does not…” she paused—what was she saying? Leith was not the kind of man to not claim any child he had sired. “I’m sorry, that is foolish of me. I don’t know why I even thought to ask that. Let’s go back, when you say commitment you meant marriage.”

  “Aye, I do,” Rinalda said soberly. “Since he was of age, that was nineteen, twenty. He courted ladies but nothing panned out. It seemed to all of us that he gave up on marriage by the time he hit twenty-five, that was two years ago.”

  “And these women…” Mary asked, not sure why she was feeling so insecure, “they were all Scottish?”

  Rinalda did not answer before she reached out and laid her hand on Mary’s. “Ye have nothing to worry about, Mary. Since ye arrived, he’s shown more attention to ye than all seven of those women combined.”

  Seven? Good lord!

  Feeling some reassurance, she combed out her hair, noting that it was getting long. When she had arrived, the length had just past her shoulders, now it was in the middle of her back. Braiding it quickly, she nodded. “Ready.”

  “All right,” Rinalda said. “I took the sheet to the washing women, do ye want to tell Sir about it, or should I?”

  She knew that Leith had a lot on his plate right then, but she also knew that if one word about this was told to him, he would drop those important matters and dig into this one. She could not afford for him to lose his focus, and besides, she had a strong suspicion who had done it—Fiona.

  “I’ll tell him,” she said quietly before they entered the castle. “Don’t worry about it.”

  She went quickly to the kitchens while Rinalda went off elsewhere and in the warm room, she hastily drank a cup of nettle tea. As she folded her sleeves to get to work, the cook came and handed her a tray. “Please take this to our Laird.”

  Lady Lenichton must be tired again.

  Having no problem, she nodded and took the tray.

  * * *

  Stepping inside his mother’s room, Leith smiled at her. She was on her bed, sitting up with knitting needles in her hands. She did not look tired or worried so he began to wonder what his summons was for.

  “Mornin’, Mother,” he said bending to kiss her cheek. “Knitting for that secret charity ye ken we dinnae ken ye have for the village bairns?”

  His mother laughed. “I forget how astute ye are. But aye, I was.” She dropped the half-made blanket and put the whole thing away. “What I called ye about is something I’ve been worried about for the past few years…”

  Leith tensed, knowing what she was going to say—his marriage.

  “Ye need to choose a wife, son, more than ever with yer Faither still ill,” she said reaching out to hold his hand. “I don’t ken how long I have on this land either…I would like to hold me first grandbairn in me hands before I go to me grave. A lovely Scottish woman, with good bearing and a keen mind, so she can help ye lead yer people.”

  Damn it. It was not as if he wasn’t feeling guilty enough with keeping the woman he wanted away from them, but now she had to go and say that. “Mother, ye arena going to die anytime soon.”

  Her eyes were imploring, “Even so, I would like to see ye marry, to see ye hold yer firstborn and see ye happy. I can count on one hand the few times I’ve seen ye truly happy in the last five years. It pains me that yer nay happy, son. A good wife will make ye happy, I ken it.”

  “Mother,” he groaned internally. “I’ll—I’ll…ken about it.”

  Her head canted to the side and her look was one he hated receiving from her, a knowing look. “Is it Mary?”

  Keeping in his shock and schooling a blank face was more of a reflex than instinct, “Why would it have anything to do with Mary?”

  “Because like I said, in the past five years the only times I’ve seen ye happy, three of them came from after Mary arrived,” his mother said. “I cannot blame ye, Leith, she is a pretty woman and ye must be proud that ye saved her from death, but we still dinnae ken who she is or where she is from. She cannot be yer distraction, son. Ye need a wife of honorable heritage, nay one who has nay past to speak of and nay family to go to.”

  Her words were calm and sensible but his anger was growing in his chest. He could not tell her that he knew about her speaking of marriage to Mary the day before. He was beginning to wonder what his mother was aiming for by trying to marry Mary off and now pushing to choose a wife and using her pending death as the impetus.

  Rather sly of ye, Mother.

  “And if I did choose to marry one nay from our land,” he said casually. “Would that matter?”

  Her expression did not waver, “I dinnae ken it would but for me, I’d prefer if ye would marry a woman of our ways, who would sing to yer bairns the same lullabies I sang to ye or her mother sang to her.”

  Leith frowned a little, Was there some…anger in her voice?

  “I ken they are good women from all countries, son, but like Isaac said to Jacob, choose from those who are of us. Their cultures are nay ours, son, they might make ye stray.”

  And now she is using the Bible against me.

  Kicking back in his seat, Leith decided to push her a little more, “Seems to me that ye dinnae like outsiders, Mother. Is Nicolas’ hate for foreigners affecting ye so much?”

  “Nay,” she replied, shrugging delicately as she reached for her needles again. But he saw a stubborn line in the set of shoulders that was not there before. “I ken of Nicolas’ distrust with foreigners, but that has naything to do with this. I just want ye to nay have to explain two cultures to yer children.”

  Something was off with his mother and he did not know what it was or why. Uncertain as to what to think, he decided it best to allow his suspicions to linger in the back of his mind until he knew more. He shifted his feet; so now, it was not only Nicolas he had to watch, he needed to pay mind to his mother too.

  Bloody hell.

  He stood and kissed her cheek, “I’ll see ye soon, Mother.”

  Leaving, he went directly to his father’s room. It pained him a little that guards were still stationed at his father’s door. After acknowledging them, he knocked, and went in to see his father balancing a book on his knees. It was better than balancing a sword, but Leith wanted to see his father sharpening a blade. All his life, his father’s image was with a sword.

  “Faither…” he came in, “how are ye?”

  The man closed the book and flung it on the bed. His grey eyes were dull, “Bloody bored out me mind. I’d like to be out in me office, or even mucking out the stable, but I cannae leave this bloody room or else I’d get tackled to the ground. The food yer mother wants me to eat is bloody mush and I feel like these bloody four walls are closing in on me.”

  Grabbing a chair, Leith spun it and sat with his arms on the back. He gave his father a sympathetic look. “I ken but we just have to make sure yer fully recovered before ye can go back to the life ye want to live.”

  A heavy gaze met his and the lines in his father’s face deepened. “This is not a life, son. This is less than survival, ‘tis is bare existing.”

  The dismal tone had Leith grimacing. He wanted to tell him that he knew it was hard but he did not. Not until he was the one caged up like a wild animal was he going to know what his father felt, and Leith prayed that he would never get to that stage, “It’s hard but it is for the best, Faither.”

  “I yearn to do what I said I’d do to me people,” Aaron said. “To see about their wellbeing, to forge alliances with those who mean us well, to do something but nay stare at these walls all the living day long.”

  “Faither, Tarrant Allanach, Laird of Robasdan, has sworn to me to send ye a mind healer. When he comes and sees about ye, with his good report that I ken he’s goi
ng to give, ye’ll be back to where ye were, I swear it,” Leith said.

  His father gave him a calculating eye, “And ye?” Aaron asked. “Are ye nay ready to take the helm?”

  “I am,” Leith said. “But only when ye hand it to me fair and square with a strong mind. And apparently, with a wife too as mother just spoke to me about. She says that I need a lovely Scottish woman, with good bearing and a keen mind”

  “Bah,” Aaron snorted. “Any woman with a good bearing and a keen mind can do for ye. Speaking of, that Mary lass is stunning. I ken she’s mute but she is the prettiest I’ve seen in many years. Are ye having dalliances with her, son?”

  Unable to think on the last parts of his father’s words, Leith could only focus on the first. “Ye—ye’ve seen Mary?”

  “Aye, I have. About three times now, she is the one who brings me food and drink,” Aaron said. “Pleasant creature she is.”

  Stunned that this had been kept from him, Leith sat up so quickly his chair fell over, “Pardon me, Faither, I have to go.”

  Bloody hell, Mary, have ye lost yer senses? What are ye playing at?

  21

  The last of the midday meal was doled out and the empty, gravy-stained pans were given over to be washed. Mary was rolling up her sleeves and was about to start washing when a loud gasp and a tumble got her attention. Someone had tripped over their feet. Looking up, Mary saw Leith striding in and the people parting before him like the parting of the Red Sea

  He grabbed her hand and tugged her. “I need a word with ye.”

  Her face was burning crimson when Leith tugged her out of the kitchen’s back door and outside. She could have resisted but she did not dare and secondly, her strength was a fraction of his. Leith looked so angry he could easily throw her over his shoulder and march out with her looking like a sack of potatoes.

  She was tugged out to an alcove and her back pushed on a wall. Trembling, she did not dare move. Leith looked like he was on a warpath with how stony his face was and how clipped his stride. He then spun. “Why dinnae ye tell me about serving food to me Faither?”

  The knots in her stomach bound themselves even tighter. “I didn’t think it was a problem. The man is back in his right mind, Leith. He didn’t even lay a look on me much less a finger.”

  “But why?” he snapped. “I told ye me faither was dangerous, and ye dinnae listen.”

  “To be fair, you only told me that he was ill with his mind,” Mary said regrettably. “And knowing that, I should have understood that he was dangerous, but I did not. I…”

  He seemed to calm and came closer but he did not touch even though she could see his hand twitching at his side. “Ye what?”

  Mary twisted her head to the side, and her eyelid lowered to half-mast. “I suppose I did it because of you…” she turned her head back and her smile was thin and wry, “When your mother asked me to—”

  “What!” Leith exploded. “She did what?”

  Anger rendered his eyes steely silver and his jaw had gone flinty.

  “She asked me to do it when she felt ill and unable to do it herself,” Mary breathed in knowing that his anger was not directed at her anymore. “I felt it was my chance to help you, after all you had done for me. I thought if I could help your Father…I’d help you,” she sucked in a deep breath, “because, I love you, Leith…I love you.”

  Her words were said plainly and the truth they carried made her heart ache. She never intended to speak them but her soul had burned with the need for him to know. There were no expectations for him to say the same, but they had to come out or she would be burning from the inside.

  Leith came closer, nudged her chin up but she flashed her head to the side, unable to look at him, to look at the rejection she knew she was going to find there. Why had she said those words? Why? Why was she putting her hat where she could never reach it?

  She was frozen where she stood and her eyes clenched tight and her heart was pounding in her throat. She nearly collapsed when she felt him drop soft kisses on her ear and cheek, coaxing her to turn her face to him.

  “Tha gaol agam ort,” he whispered.

  Hope nearly strangled her heart, “Does that mean…I love you?”

  “Aye, it does,” he said, and his voice was heavy. His eyes were dipping between her eyes and her lips. “Mary, leave me Faither’s meals to someone else.”

  “Why?” She asked. “Leith, he is passive and calm. He’s on the mend, why not let me carry it still?”

  He pondered. She did have a point. “I’ll let ye carry them, but ye are nay to enter his room. Give them to Dugald or Finlay, the guards at his door. Only those two are allowed in me Faither’s room until we are certain he is sound in mind.” Pulling away he added, “This evening, go to the same seat in the gardens we shared the other night. I’ll come for ye this evenin’. We need to talk about other matters. Now, let’s go back to the kitchens.”

  Though unable to fathom why he was going back there, Mary followed him sheepishly. She actively hid behind his broad back when they stepped in, as she could feel the many eyes on them.

  “All of ye ken about me Faither’s situation,” Leith said. His head swung slowly from side to side looking at all who were in the room. His voice was deep and authoritative and his posture strong and majestic. “He’s been through a lot and now that he’s getting better, I plan to have a ball for him the moment I ken for sure he is healed of the malady. I dinnae suspect it will be too long from now but be ready for it.”

  For the first time, Mary truly saw the leader in him. The day he stepped into the Lairdship; she knew he would be a leader to be reckoned with. The moment he shifted and let the servants free from under his gaze, the whole room exhaled.

  He nodded to Mary and then left the room. Feeling the eyes on the back of her neck, Mary scurried over to her washing position. She was praying for them to find something to give their attention to and leave her alone while her heart was singing. Leith loved her. He had said it himself.

  I wonder what he’s planning for me tonight. What do we need to talk about?

  * * *

  The smell of rain was brewing in the air when Mary got to the gardens. She was nervous again as she kept wondering what they need to speak about. Perhaps it had rained already somewhere in the mountains as the air was crisp and was laced with a hint of pine from the forest.

  She sat with her hands twiddling on her lap. The chirps and scuffles of the night animals were around her and she sat with growing unease. Every rustle of the leaves around her had her head shifting from side to side.

  “Dinnea be so uneasy, lass,” Leith said from the bushes. His attempt to calm her had gone the opposite way as she jumped a foot off her seat at the sound of his voice.

  He sat with her and reached out, but she slapped his hand away. “I’m mad at you,” she hissed. “You scared me! My heart nearly leaped from my chest!”

  Grinning, Leith grabbed her without a problem, and though she tried to resist him, he hauled her unto his lap anyway. He grabbed her flailing hands and pinned them with one of his. He pinned them to his chest then dipped his head to kiss under her ear. “My apologies, Mary. But we do need to talk. Ye dinnae need to give me a black eye.”

  She shifted on his lap but he grabbed her hips. “And nay wigglin’.”

  Mary huffed, “What is it?”

  “I ken there’s a conspiracy afoot,” Leith said. “Me mother spoke to ye about marrying yesterday and this mornin’ she spoke to me about marrying. She even asked me if it was ye why I dinnae marry. I ken she wants to keep us apart.”

  “But why?” Mary was confused. “She does not know what is between you and me and I’m not a threat to you. As far as she knows you only rescued me.”

  “She told me that she could count the few times she had seen me smile in the past few years on one hand, and four of them were after ye had arrived,” Leith said dryly.

  “Oh…oh…” Mary blinked, “should I be flattered or ashamed.”


  Leith’s hands pressed her back and she lay on his chest, “Flattered, lass, ye should be flattered.”

  The heat from his body behind her was warmer than a blanket. She felt safe, protected and desired while resting in his arms. The fire he stirred up inside her always surged when his skin touched hers and settled to a smolder when they parted. It was always there burning inside her, waiting to be awakened again.

  Twice had she been on the verge of feeling the full assault of his pleasure and twice had she been denied. This time, this close, with the scent of his skin and the warmth of his body, she felt the need surge up again. Did Leith feel it too?

  His nose was under her ear and his lips parted. He sucked on her skin and instantly that fire inside her blazed alive. Canting her head to the side to give him more room, Mary bit her lips as his mouth moved. When he bit on her throbbing pulse point, she could not hold back her gasp.