A cool breeze pulled at her skirts and swirled like a whirlwind beneath them raising goosebumps up her thighs. This was why she rarely wore dresses. Scotland was no place for bared legs, especially in the colder months. Most especially when one wore no underwear.
Because said underwear had been ripped from her body in a fit of passion.
The recollection was worth a bit of a shiver itself.
Lord knew, she didn’t need protection from Finn. She needed protection from herself. Her knees still rather wobbly after her encounter with him. Honestly the cold wind had done much to cool her flaming body.
“Where are we going, Mistress Marshall?”
Effie’s small hand slipped into Aila’s with a tug that had the same effect as Finn’s sentimental reasoning for her to accept the position as his nanny. A tug at her heartstrings. She’d been tempted to accept his offer for that alone.
Not to say he’d seduced her into it. His ability to sway her thoughts whilst pinned to a wall…or door…had nothing to do with it. In fact, her abrupt change of heart in agreeing to take the position had surely left his head spinning. She couldn’t blame him. She’d run hot and cold on the subject herself. Wanting to stay, then railing against it like a banshee….
Albeit to say, she’d thought she had grown beyond such bouts of anger. Her fury with the dichotomy of man versus woman. Role versus proper role as proclaimed by society. Labels that chafed and restricted. Her therapist would be most disappointed with her. As would Violet.
As was she.
Unfortunately, she’d have to let Finn wonder at her sudden reversal. To offer any portion of the truth would lead to questions she couldn’t answer.
“We’re on a treasure hunt.” She smiled down at Effie who skipped along by her side and squeezed the girl’s hand. Poor Jean. She couldn’t help but sympathize with the harried nursemaid now. The pair were a handful. Fifteen minutes ago, both had been squeaky clean. Now after running amok in the mud, clothes, bodies, and hands were in desperate need of a washing. “And if we’re to be friends, ye must call me Aila.”
“Ye’re no’ a friend.” Effie wiped her nose — dribbling in the cool morning air — on the sleeve of her free hand. Athoroughwashing. “Da says ye’re to be our nursemaid.”
“I prefer being friends,” Aila insisted. “So much better than nursemaid, aye?”
Effie’s face lit up with a bright smile. “Rab is to be my friend, too, then?” At her nod, the girl continued, “We used to have hounds in the stables…before. But Da would never let me play wi’ them. They were for hunting.”
“Well, Rabbie isnae like them. He is for fun only.”
“And helping us find the treasure?” Effie whirled in a circle under Aila’s arm and bellowed her brother’s name. “Ni-i-i-all! We’re hunting for treasure!”
The lad, who’d taken to running ahead in broad zigzags around the trees, circled back around to Aila’s free side. “What sort of treasure is it? Pirate treasure?” He wielded the stick he’d been throwing to the dog like a sword while Rab hopped alongside, ears erect, and pupils so dilated with delight and anticipation his eyes were almost black.
“More like the Holy Grail.” Thinking curiosity would rein them in, she lowered her voice to a furtive whisper. “A treasure lost for hundreds of years and it is our quest to find it. Our noble quest.”
“Oooo.” The pair shared a grin while the dog shuffled in time with little hops, eyes glued to the stick in Niall’s hand. “Like knights?”
“Exactly.”
“I’ve read a book about knights.” His words tumbled one over the other in their rush to be spoken, much in the same manner as he ran hither and yon as if to do everything at once. “I like to read…sometimes. Do ye like to read? I likeGulliver’s TravelsandRobinson Crusoe. When he encounters the cannibals—”
“Niall,” Aila interrupted, “have mercy on poor Rabbie and throw the stick before he has a stroke.”
He frowned up at her, the expression a perfect copy of his father’s. “A what?”
“Oh, give it here.” Aila took the stick and flung it as far ahead as she could manage. Rab bounded away and the children pursued the dog with the same enthusiasm. If nothing else, the chase should provide opportunity enough for her to come up with a tale worthy of the treasure. Something sensational to keep their interest and therefore well behaved while she investigated the matter. With the children tagging along, perhaps she wouldn’t be subjected to the same suspicion that had followed her through the village the previous day.
Not that she was going to the village today.
Today, her search was more pointed, her destination vaguely ahead somewhere.
As was the man she followed. The minute she’d seen Mr. Boyce pass through the bailey from the window above, she’d taken it as a sign that she was in the proper time after all. Staying on as the nanny provided the perfect excuse to…well, stalk him. If that was what it took.
She’d lost sight of him as the sparse trees of the parkland grew more dense. Two hundred years before, trees would have ruined the sight lines for the castle’s defense. These days, the relatively young cropping of fruit-bearing trees marked the perimeter of the castle grounds. A separation between nobility and the rabble beyond. If the dukes of Argyll were anything like the supercilious Mr. Derne, Aila would be willing to wager they hadn’t wanted to see the village out their windows any more than the current one. The one who would soon decide to relocate the village well out of his line of sight.
Where the village lie south of the castle, however, Boyce took the path west. Toward the mill, if Ian were to be believed. As they passed through the orchard, she was rewarded by the sight of a more definite destination in the distance.
Rab’s excited bark drew her attention and she turned about with a sigh of exasperation.
