“Thank ye,” she stated, taking the charred meat. “This reminds me of the time that mah da thought it good tae take me with him. I nearly burned down the wood trying tae start a fire.”
“How old were ye?” he asked, blowing on the meat to cool it.
“Seven,” she answered, her smile growing. “He didnae give me full instruction on how tae keep it from spreading. I think he burned his best pair of boots trying tae keep it from catching the moors on fire.”
Malcolm tried to picture Edna as a young lass, her long hair flowing down her back and smiling as she was doing now. He imagined her parents didn’t let her go alone very often.
“I did something similar,” he admitted, picking off a piece of the rabbit still warm from the fire.
“Ye did?” she asked as he tried a piece of the tough meat. It wasn’t as good as it would be in a stew, but it was filling enough, and that was what Malcolm had wanted.
“Aye,” he replied, thinking about the day. “I was a great deal older. Yer cousin and I were imbibing on Scot’s whiskey and thought it would be a good idea tae test our sword skills in the great hall. I ended up knocking over the iron candlestick and caught the tapestry on fire.”
Edna winced. “Och, ’tis worse than wot I did.”
Malcolm finished his rabbit, throwing down the stick before eyeing her. “How is that?”
She was wiping her hands on her skirts. “I’ve never burned down an entire keep before.”
Chuckling, he nudged her on the shoulder lightly. “It was far from burning down the keep.”
She nudged him back. “Aye, but there’s something aboot swords and whiskey that doesnae mix well.”
Malcolm couldn’t help but enjoy her jesting, glad that she hadn’t decided to wash her hands of him yet. He had to get her to Irvine, somewhere safe, so that he could figure out what to do next with Neacal. The laird truly needed to meet the end of Malcolm’s sword, but that would also mean certain death for him.
His life would be forfeit, and he would rather it be on behalf of saving Edna than killing the laird outright. At least he could provide her some measure of relief knowing that her life was safe.
“Well,” Edna stated as she rose from the log, “I long for a true bed.”
“Aye,” he agreed, standing. “We should be able tae sleep comfortably on the morrow.”
He watched as the lass stretched her arms over her head, his body remembering how she had looked in the loch before they had been interrupted, and swallowed hard. It was taking all that he had within him not to reach out and pull her against him, to taste her lips, but that would only confuse them more. He had already told her he couldn’t wed her.
The last thing Edna needed in her life was him.
But when she turned, her fingers unraveling the braid that hung over her shoulder, Malcolm was helpless to even move from his spot.
“Edna.”
She paused, her lips parting. “Malcolm?”
He did move, however, sliding his hand behind her neck. “Tell me tae stop,” he rasped, feeling the softness of her skin under his calloused hand. “Push me away.”
She looked at him for what felt like a day before she shook her head. “Nay. Please.”
The plea was lost on her lips as Malcolm covered her mouth with his, tasting Edna for the first time. She tasted of mint, and it wasn’t long before her lips were moving right along with his, her hands grasping his shoulders. He knew he should stop, but instead of releasing her neck, he only pulled her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. An unfamiliar warmth swept through him, more than the primal urge to have her but more so to cherish her.
To have her as his. It wasn’t possible, Malcolm knew that, but in that moment, he could at least wish so.
They kissed until he had no air left, finally breaking the connection so that they could gulp in the sweet rush of air. “Malcolm,” Edna breathed, clutching at his shoulders. He could see the heat in her eyes, the same heat that matched his own, but Malcolm forced himself to step away. He couldn’t take her innocence here. It wasn’t his right.
“Nay, lass,” he rasped, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I cannae.”
She looked disappointed but gave him a firm nod. “Aye, ye cannae. Ye dinnae even wish tae wed me.”
“Edna,” he started as she put some distance between them, her back to him. Her body was tightly wound, and it was all because he had made a rash decision to kiss her.
That would be a kiss he would remember until the end of his days. “I dinnae wish tae wed ye with Neacal hunting us down,” he told her honestly.
