Splitting off from the rest of the group, Mary wandered towards the small market that had sprung up next to the inn, the same one that took place each week, where local farmers and other sellers would flog their wares to the highest bidder. Really, it seemed to be a chance for everyone to catch up on the local gossip, and, sure enough, she heard snatches of conversation flying around her as she made her way through.
“Aye, well, I heard that she’s already six months gone, and they only got married in the spring!”
“And did you tell him what you thought of that? I tell ye, if that had been me, I’d have given that man a piece of my mind…”
“…yes, Laird Fraser! I can hardly believe it, I thought he had been cast out of this place…”
Her feet stilled beneath her when she heard that name, the name of the man she had been doing her best to forget. She glanced over furtively to see where the conversation had come from, and, sure enough, there were a huddle of girls around one of the stalls, perhaps close to her in age. They were speaking with their heads lowered, as though they did not want anyone else to hear what they were conversing about, but the conversation still sent a prickle of fear through Mary’s body.
No, it was more than a prickle of fear. There was jealousy there too, as much as she didn’t want to admit it. She was jealous that they were talking about this man, this man whom she barely knew. She was certain she was being absurd, but still, she found herself rounding on them, stepping closer so she could hear what they were speaking about.
All three girls looked around at her as she drew closer. The one who had spoken last lifted her chin and raised her eyebrows at her.
“Is there something ye’ve got tae say?” she demanded. Mary tossed her hair over her shoulder, mustering all the certainty she could.
“That man you were talking about, Kiernan Fraser,” she replied. “You should be careful of him. He’s no good. A very dangerous man, from what I hear. I’m sure girls like you wouldn’t want to get involved with someone so…”
“Someone so… what?”
Her heart stuttered, and, for a moment, felt like it stopped. She recognized that voice at once, how could she not? She spun around on the spot, and there, sure enough, was Kiernan himself, eyeing her with open amusement. He nodded for her to continue.
“Please, go on,” he prompted her. “I’d like tae hear what you’ve got to say about me.”
“I—I didn’t mean it like that,” she blurted out. The girls, ducking their heads low, turned their attention back to the stall before them, clearly not wanting to get involved in whatever this was.
“No, you were scaring away yer competition,” he remarked, an amused tone to his voice. “I cannae fault you for that.”
By now, her cheeks were blazing with heat, and she cursed herself for making it so obvious.
“That’s not why I was speaking to them.”
“Aye, you were just doing it out of the goodness of yer heart, were you?” he chuckled. He didn’t seem offended, which surprised her. No, he seemed… amused. She supposed he must have been used to people speaking about him in such a way. If Arran had heard such stories of him, she could only imagine how far they might have spread, the points they may have stretched to.
“I was just?—“
“I’m no’ angry at you, lass,” he assured her. “You can tell yer cheeks that.”
She lifted a hand to her face, annoyed that she was making how flustered she was so obvious. He seemed so utterly calm and cool in the face of everything that he came across, whereas she couldn’t seem to stop making a fool of herself whenever he was near her.
“I dinnae see much of you away from the Keep,” he remarked, tipping his head to the side, a dark strand of hair falling into his eyes. She wondered, briefly, if it would have been soft—how it would have felt to run her fingers through his hair, to feel the nape of his neck beneath her fingertips. She swallowed hard, forcing the image from her mind at once, tryingto remind herself that she was an honourable woman, not some lusty maid who would swoon into the arms of any man she met.
“I wanted some fresh air,” she replied with a shrug.
“And perhaps a drink?” he suggested, nodding to the inn where Gregory and the other men had tied up their horses. A drink? With him? The thought sent a shiver down her spine, but not an entirely unwelcome one. The notion of sharing such an intimate space with him excited her, there was no doubt about it, though she was sure she should have done a better job at containing it.
“She’s no’ interested in a drink wi’ you”
Gregory’s voice cut in from behind them, and she turned to see him standing just a few yards away, his face as hard as stone. Judging by the way he was looking at the two of them, Mary could have guessed that Arran had warned him to keep an eye on her. The thought irritated her, but, at the same time, she was sure it was for her own good. If this man’s reputation really did run as deep as Arran had claimed, then she was better off keeping her distance.
So why did she still feel so drawn to him?
“A walk, then,” Kiernan countered. “Somewhere you can keep an eye on us, eh, Gregory?”
She wasn’t sure how he knew Gregory’s name, but it seemed to annoy Gregory. He straightened his shoulders, glancing between the two of them. Mary held her breath. She didn’t rightly know which way he was going to go, and it worried her that he might tell her no, put her back in the carriage, and take her from this place before she so much as had a chance to speak to him again. She knew it was wrong for her to crave his closeness so much, but, after days of dreaming of him, she felt it was only right for her to have found him once more.
“Just a few minutes,” she pleaded with Gregory, and he seemed to sense that he would not get through to her. He sighed.
“Aye, fine,” he muttered. “But stay where we can see you. And be ready to go back to the Keep soon.”
