No, perhaps castle life was not for her, at least not as a member of the staff. She imagined it would be different all together if she were a member of the family instead. Bren and his brothers each had their own private chambers where they could retreat for some time alone. She knew this, because this morning she had been sent to collect the linens for washing, and had lingered a moment too long in each room just for the peace and quiet. The laird’s chamber had especially intrigued her. Though it wasn’t lavish by any means, it was elegant and comfortable. There was a sofa in front of the hearth, and thick sheep skin rugs on the floor. Bright tapestries hung on the walls to keep out drafts, and two large windows let in plenty of light. And the bed… god, the bed looked absolutely sinful, just like the man who slept in it. It was large and soft and draped in richred velvet curtains. The dark wooden headboard was intricately carved with the double dragon seal, their long tails curling up and around the posts. She had stood there and touched it, had run her fingers over the soft pillow where he would lay his head. Then she had laid her own head there, for just a moment, to see if it was as soft as it looked. She caught his scent on the pillow, and her heart had instantly started pounding in her chest. She drew back, startled. She could imagine him here, easing a lover back onto the bed, following her with his own body….
Faith shook herself… of all the directions for her thoughts to be taking! But, truthfully, she had thought about Bren many times in the past couple of days. Every time she had seen him in the distance, she thought he had been looking at her. He was overwhelming from afar, so what would he be like close up, touching her, even? The thought made her heart beat faster, and frightened her more than a bit. He was so much larger than her, so much stronger. He could do anything he wanted and she would never be able to stop him, he was laird after all. Then she remembered his vow to Dirc. She had almost forgotten, in the confusion of learning her place in the castle, with so much completely new information filling her mind. He had promised not to touch her against her will. He wanted to touch her, she had seen that much in his eyes, but was he a man who kept his vows? Dirc seemed to think so, but what did she really know about him, anyway? Nothing, or what amounted to it. In the two days she had spent in Dirc’s cottage, he had been away most of the time, and the rest of the time he had managed to ignore most of her questions and tell her almost nothing about himself, or anything else, for that matter.
Drawing in a deep breath of fresh air, she walked through a little iron gate to the garden at the back of the keep. It was a small garden, walled in on all sides, and therefore considered to be safe, even at dusk as it was now. As the light slowlyfaded, Faith felt her other senses come alive as they never had back home. She could smell the earth and the green grass crushed beneath her feet, feel the cool damp air against her face, the mist already rising. She brushed past a hedgerow, and the sharp scent of boxwood reached her, then the sweet aroma of honeysuckle, climbing the wooden arbor just ahead. She ducked under the vines, and stood watching the stars begin to appear one by one through the leaves above. There was no sound, this night. No cars. No thrum of humanity. So very quiet. Even the keep was quiet, here on the other side of its thick stone walls. Absolute peace. The breeze changed and now she caught the tang of salt water, the fishy small of low tide and seaweed. She sighed and closed her eyes in bliss, her mind and body relaxing for the first time in days. And so she was startled when she heard her softly spoken name.
“Faith.”
Her eyes opened. She knew who it was. Only one man would dare follow her out into the garden in the near dark without fear of consequence. Only one man on whose lips her name sounded like sin. The man who made the rules. Her stomach flipped and her heart started to race, but she was determined not to let him know how nervous he made her.
She turned to glance behind. Casually, she hoped. “Good evening, Laird.”
He smiled. Even his smile looked dangerous. Despite her best efforts, her breath came a little faster. He was so handsome, but that was not a strong enough word.Beautiful, was the word that kept coming to mind. The very epitome of masculine perfection and beauty and grace.
“Might I join ye for a moment? It’s a lovely evening. I often walk in the gardens after dinner.”
“I suppose I can’t stop you”, she said in a rather shaky attempt at mild disregard.
“Nay”, he said, with a slight curve of his lips. “Ye canna”.
He stepped closer, watching her, and now Faith could no longer smell the honeysuckle, or the sea. No… the warm, masculine scent of the man next to her invaded her senses and drowned out all else. Her heart thudded almost painfully against her ribs, and sharp tingles of awareness shot through her limbs, all the way to her fingertips. Never had she been more aware of every inch of her body. She had to struggle to keep her breath even. She had to struggle to keep from leaning closer to him, as if little whirlwinds of heat were pulling all the air out from between them.
“Walk with me”, he said softly. It was hardly fair, Faith thought dimly, that his voice alone had the effect of making her knees weak.
He took her arm and drew her gently out from the arbor. The touch was only casual, but it felt like flames against her skin, burning, branding. Making her want more. She pulled her arm away, and he let it go. Together they continued on the path, now in only the starlight, as the last glow of the sun had faded to blackness over the water.
“How are ye finding the castle?” he asked, his gaze straight ahead. “Do ye have everything ye need?”
“It’s a beautiful castle, but then you already know that.” She paused. “And I have everything I need, thank you.”
“I dinna want ye working in the kitchens anymore, Faith. I ken you’re no’ a scullery maid, or any sort of maid at all. We will find another place for ye.”
Faith frowned slightly. Was she really that bad at her job? She had only just started, for goodness sake! “I like working in the kitchens. I’m learning a lot of new things. They tell me I’m getting better, I just need a little more practice.”
He looked down at her and smiled. In the dim light, she could see only his profile, dark against the soft glow of the sky,but she knew he was smiling. She could feel it. She could feelhim. The heat of his body, the way the air seemed charged with electricity all around him, even the softness of his breath as it moved past her cheek.
“I dinna ken who ye truly are Faith”, he said softly. “But I ken that ye’re no’ a servant born. Ye are a lady, and old Dirc is up to mischief again. But right now, I dinna care about that. I dinna care who ye are. Ye are here with me, and that’s all that matters tonight.”
Suddenly he stopped, reaching for her. She felt his arms come around her; warm, hard muscle, wonderful, terrible strength that could crush her at will. The heat of his body and the scent of his skin alone threatened to overwhelm her senses. Her heart pounded wildly, and her breath hitched. She looked up at him and saw his intent, even in the almost-darkness. He was going to kiss her. She wanted him to kiss her. God how she wanted to know what it would be like to be kissed by this man! She had a feeling one of his kisses would take her to places she’d never even dreamed of going. But she couldn’t let him, her pride would never allow him to win so easily. Not when he assumed he could have her at will, that she would fall into his arms like all of the other woman surely did. He would use her and toss her aside. No way, not even to satisfy her own burning curiosity.
“Ye are so verra beautiful,” he whispered, his warm breath touching her lips.
Despite her best intentions, she felt herself drawing closer, melting, drowning. He was intoxicating, dangerous. She had to break the spell, anything to save herself. Gathering what remained of her free will, she sucked in a breath and pushed him away. And caught the flare of surprise and displeasure on his face, or maybe she had actually felt it. Maybe both, she wasn’t thinking straight anymore.
He had thought he had her. Well, he could think again. Just how many other women had he whispered those same words to? Dozens, at least, most likely more. As much as she wanted to know what it would be like to kiss him, to touch him, she couldn’t do it. Not knowing that she was just one more of many. She just wasn’t the kind of girl who took what she wanted and didn’t care about things like whether she was being used in return. She wanted it all, everything, she suddenly realized. She wanted to be the only one he craved, so much so that no one else could even tempt him away from her. She wanted toownhim, body and soul. Then, and only then would she give in, otherwise, he would only break her heart. She didn’t need her heart broken again when it had only just healed. And then there was the little matter of exactly how long she could expect to be here…
She shook herself. Her thoughts were rambling unchecked through her mind. Own him? Where had that come from? She didn’t even know Bren Mac Coinnach, and he certainly wasn’t the type of man to be owned by anyone.
“What is it love? What’s wrong?” He tried to pull her back to him, but she resisted, her muscles going taught.
“You were going to kiss me.”
He gave her the confident, lazy smile of the born seducer of women he was. “Aye, that was my intention. Ye are too quick by half.” He leaned closer again.
His voice, so deep and dark, drew her, flowing through her like warm honey. His body, so much larger and stronger than her own, lured her closer with its heat and exotic scent. His dark hair brushed her cheek, silky soft and smelling of the night and of decadent possibilities. She could feel the power rolling off of him, pulling her under, smell the sharp scent of man and danger, seducing, coaxing. When her hips threatened to thrust towards his of their own accord, she finally managed another step back.
“No… Stop. I don’t want this.”And that is one of the biggest lies I’ve ever told in my whole life!
She saw his mouth tighten into a hard line, saw him struggle momentarily to keep his composure, perhaps even his temper.So I am right, the laird isn’t used to being told no. Maybe I am even the first woman to tell him no at all.At that moment she wasn’t entirely sure that title was in her favor. Her body felt molten, her clothing too tight. If only he would take it off… She wanted to cry, because she knew that if he pressed her far enough, she would give in to him. It was just that bad.
