“I like puppies.”
She sidled another glance his way while once more hugging her cup to her chest.“Let’s say you’re telling me the truth.Why is it you’re not surprised to suddenly find yourself in possession of a twenty-first century American?”
“I’ve known the witch for as far back as I can remember, and two of my most trusted friends are Defenders.They’ve told me tales of fated mates being united across the centuries.The women travel to the men because they are the life bringers—or so I am told.Men are born where they are meant to stay.”
“Defenders?”
“Members of an order sworn to defend the Highland Veil, and I have, on occasion, helped them when the need arose.”
“But you’re not a Defender?”
“I am not.”While he didn’t like being interrogated, the lass did have the right to know and was actually speaking to him in a somewhat civil tone, so he would tolerate it.
“Why not?”
“Why not what?”
“Why aren’t you a Defender if you’re willing to help them?”
“Because I believe in doing that which is right for the sake of it, not because I’ve sworn an oath for someone to hold over my head.”He took a long draught from the tankard of ale he always had with his morning parritch, then angled a nod her way.“After all that ye’ve seen since ye arrived, why do ye still think me a liar or a madman?”
Her emerald eyes widened in surprise, making it impossible for him not to smile.“I can’t help it,” she said softly, “and I really don’t want you to be a madman.”
“Ye would rather I were a liar?”He found that hard to believe, especially coming from a woman.
“I’d rather you were the twenty-first century Highlander that the tarot card app said I needed to meet.”She huffed, then squirmed from side to side.“I also wish Molly hadn’t pulled these ties so tight.Standing, this vest wasn’t so bad, but sitting, it’s digging into me.”
“It’s nay a vest, lass.Those are yer stays.”His mouth started watering as he eyed the laces threaded through the front of the garment that displayed her very fine form in the best way possible.“Ye could always loosen them.If Molly is to be yer lady’s maid, ye will need to train her properly.Make sure she understands yer orders and correct her when needed.”
“She is not my slave.”
“No.But she is yer servant and a servant of this keep.Unclear orders not only do her a disservice but yerself as well.If she understands what ye wish, she will do her best to see it done, and then ye’ll both not only be pleased, but she’ll also know the satisfaction and pride of a job well done.”
“She spoke highly of you,” Jessa said, but her scowl didn’t match her words.
“As she should.I am her laird.”The back of his neck tingled, making the hairs twitch.“What is it, lass?Something’s astir in yer eyes.Ye might as well spit it out and be free of it.”
“You said Mairwen brought me here to be your wife, and you’ve mentioned fated mates more than once.Do you really believe in all that?”
A cageyness swept over him, a need to protect himself from whatever her question intended.“Do ye believe in it, lass?”
She stilled and went thoughtful while slowly running the tip of her finger around the rim of her cup.Then she fluttered her long lashes as though waking from a dream.“I think it is a delightful fairy tale.”She looked up and locked eyes with him.“But I asked what you believed.”
“I dinna ken what to believe.Not yet, anyway.”
Her shoulders slumped the slightest bit, making her seem to wilt in front of his very eyes.Was she disappointed that he refused to say whether he thought her his fated mate, or if he even believed such a thing might be possible?His jaded heart gave a dangerous shudder at the prospect and softened toward her even more than it already had.
“Would ye rather I lied, lass?”
“No.Of course not.”She straightened in the chair, casting off a quick shrug.His opinion was obviously irrelevant to her.Or was it?Shadows flitted in the green depths of her eyes, nudging his heart in a direction a wise man would avoid at all costs.
“Eat some breakfast, lass.”He poked at the parritch he’d spooned into his bowl.If they failed to eat any of this food, he would never hear the end of it from Mrs.Robeson.“At least a scone or something if ye dinna wish a lecture the likes of which ye have never heard before.”
“I would not recommend that you lecture me.”The daring in her tone stirred his blood.
“Not me, lass.Mrs.Robeson.She can be more worrisome than a swarm of midges.”
“I don’t recommendanyonelecturing me.”Jessa refilled her cup yet again.“In my current mindset and fueled with caffeine, I’m more dangerous than I look.”
