“Excuse me, please,” Abigail whispered. She tried to step around Ronan, but he hadn’t let go of her arms.
“I’m sorry.” Ronan murmured.
Abigail’s head jerked up as she pitched backwards. Once again, it was Ronan’s grip on her arms that kept her upright. “You’re sorry? What on earth for?” Abigail blurted. She glanced around, relieved they weren’t drawing unnecessary attention.
“For disappointing you so many times,” Ronan answered. “Perhaps it would be better if I didn’t pursue a courtship with you.”
“You don’t want to court me anymore?” Abigail choked around the gorge in her throat. This confirmed her feeling that Ronan deserved better. “Wait. What did you say? You disappointed me? Nay.”
“You don’t have to pretend on my account, Abigail. I ken you think I am weak. And after what you must have figured out last eve, I suppose you don’t think I’m the mon for you. Not enough of a mon for you,” Ronan finished on a whisper.
Abigail looked around once more. She reached up and pulled Ronan’s hand from her arm and took it in hers. “We can’t stand out here. It’s freezing, and someone will hear us. Come with me.”
Eight
Flurries had begun falling since Abigail walked outside, and her toes tingled in her boots. She also didn’t want anyone listening to what should be a very private conversation. She hurried them inside and led him along several passageways until she pushed open a door to a library. She glanced around, then opened the door wider for Ronan to enter. She glanced back into the passageway, ensuring no one spied them from either direction.
While she locked the door, Ronan began a fire in the hearth. It was clear the room hadn’t been used for some time, and it was nearly as cold within the chamber as it had been outside. Despite the chill in the air, Abigail ripped her arisaid from over her head and pushed it off her shoulders. She came to stand beside Ronan by the fire. His earnest expression did her in. She grabbed a fistful of his leine and plaid and tugged him toward her. She went up on her toes as she met him halfway. She pressed her lips to his, her tongue flicking against the seam of his lips. When he opened, she pushed her tongue past his teeth. Her kiss was both patient and demanding. She encouraged Ronan to explore their kiss, but she refused to relent in her need to fuse their mouths together.
Ronan struggled to keep up, then he struggled to keep from mauling Abigail. Years of repressed lust and curiosity demanded an outlet. He wanted to sink into Abigail and discover what it felt like to be with a woman. He feared he’d be useless at pleasuring her, but he wanted to know what it would be like. He’d never wanted a woman as much as he did Abigail. Her aggressiveness triggered something primal within him. The image of her clinging to him with her arms and legs wrapped around him flashed before his closed eyes. His hands slid down Abigail’s back until they cupped her backside. When Abigail made a sound of impatience and frustration, Ronan needed no more encouragement. He lifted her high off her feet, and Abigail wrapped herself around him. He stepped to the wall beside the hearth, pressing Abigail’s back against it. His mouth explored her neck and the exposed skin of her chest while her hands roamed over his back and through his hair. When he made his way back to her mouth, she sighed.
Abigail was drowning in need, and it scared her. She’d been prepared to walk away from Ronan, but now wild horses couldn’t drag her from him. She thought she’d experienced desire during her handfast, but it seemed more like child’s play than the intense longing and deep ache that she felt now. She wondered if a man who preferred members of his own gender could ever kiss a woman as Ronan did her. She wondered if it even mattered to her. Just as it came to her that it didn’t, Ronan’s mood shifted, and he pulled away. Abigail blinked several times before realizing Ronan was setting her back on her feet. He stared at her, as though he expected her to speak first since she had been the one to kiss him. Her mind felt too fuzzy to do more than stare back at him.
“I don’t think I want you to stop courting me,” she announced when she finally pulled her thoughts together.
“Even now that you know?” Ronan shot her a skeptical look.
“What is it that you think I know? Because my mind has come up with two explanations, but I don’t know that either is right. Or mayhap they’re both right. Or—mayhap you should just tell me before I stick my foot in it.”
Ronan studied Abigail for a long moment before nodding. He led her to a bench, and they sat angled so that their knees brushed.
“You believe I’m a weak laird. You wonder how I can lead my people. You wonder how I could be a suitable husband to you. I would venture a guess that you either fear I prefer men, or you’ve deduced that I’ve never been intimate with anyone before.” Ronan waited for Abigail to answer, or at least nod her head. But she did nothing for so long that Ronan wanted to squirm.
“You believe me to be a fair and reasonable woman,” Abigail began. “You think I would make you a good wife. But I’m still as quick to judge as I ever was. I’m no better than I was when my sister-by-marriage arrived at Stornoway. No better than I was when I met Lathan. No better at all.” Abigail felt tears prick behind her lids. “I did judge you. I don’t know how you knew my thoughts, but you were right aboot it all. I did wonder if you were too shy and too weak to be a good laird. I did wonder if you prefer men. I did wonder why you’re inexperienced.”
Abigail furrowed her brow and bit her top lip then her bottom. She inhaled deeply then sighed. “I don’t understand how a mon as braw and desirable as you are can be so—so—innocent. Unless you—” Abigail couldn’t say it out loud, but she was certain Ronan understand what she implied. “And if you can kiss me like you did, then do you, or rather can you—mm—both?”
Ronan smiled at her discomfort even though he knew he shouldn’t. At least he wasn’t the only one embarrassed by their conversation. He swung his leg over the bench and took both of Abigail’s hands in his as he slid closer. He ran his thumbs over the back of her hands as he considered how to answer.
“Nay. I do not prefer men. I have never been with a mon. I’ve never been with anyone. I thank you for the compliment aboot my looks, and it’s not from lack of offers.” Ronan shifted his gaze for a moment as he collected his thoughts and his memory jumped to the conversation he had with his father. “When I was six-and-ten, my father noticed I had a healthy interest in the lasses, and they were interested in me. He took me to his solar, and we had a lengthy conversation. He explained his regret over choices he made before he married my mother. I dislike admitting anyone in my clan has flaws, but they do.”
Abigail nodded with encouragement, genuinely curious about his explanation. Ronan drew a deep breath before proceeding.
“Women my father bedded before he married were catty and vindictive to my mother, never missing an opportunity, in the beginning, to remind her that they were just as intimately acquainted with my father as my mother was. If not more acquainted. I’d never known that. Those women had moved on by the time I was auld enough to notice aught like that. But my father warned me aboot dallying with women before marrying. He warned me that while I might enjoy rolling around with whores, wenches, and widows, my wife wouldn’t appreciate having to live alongside those women. His words made a very lasting impression on me.”
“You’re a virgin?” Abigail whispered. “Did you ever kiss anyone before last night?”
Ronan nodded. “A few pecks here and there, but I always stopped it before it became aught like last night or just now. It didn’t seem fair to kiss a woman knowing I had no intention of doing aught more when that’s what she wanted or expected.”
Abigail swallowed. “I’m your first kiss?”
“Aye, lass. You are. Do you think me less of a mon for not having the experience other men my age do?”
Abigail vehemently shook her head. “Not at all. You are a far better mon than most. Your reasons are so selfless and honorable. Were you never tempted?”
“Of course, I have been. Couldn’t you tell? My body reacts just like any other mon’s. I have the same desire and wants as any other mon my age. But I have never indulged in them. I feared the cost too much.” Ronan hesitated once he heard himself say the word fear.
“I don’t think you’re a coward for that, in case you’re wondering. I didn’t understand, and I rushed to judge. If your greatest sin is not tupping every woman who makes you twitch, then you are a far better mon than any other I ken. You deserve a wife who has unfailing confidence in you. And I’ve failed.” Abigail looked away.
