She reddened. “Oh, I didnae… I daenae ken. But I’m sure me sister is waiting.”
Aiden glanced at the window and shook his head. “Nay.”
“Why?”
“It’s dark out. I’m nae letting ye go out on the road in the dark.”
“Letting?” She furrowed her brow and shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”
“I suppose ye daenae recall the last time, lass. I especially daenae want to murder anyone this evening.”
“There arenae as many bandits in this area.”
“Nae many doesnae mean none. I willnae have ye on the road.” He stood and strode to the door, seeming to consider the subject closed.
Hannah opened her mouth and closed it, angry that she couldn’t think of a decent argument because he had a point.
“Prepare a chamber,” Aiden ordered. “Our guest is staying the night. Send someone to see to her pony.”
Hannah heard a feminine voice answer, “Aye, me Laird.”
“I still daenae think it’s a good idea,” she sighed.
“I daenae care.” Aiden glanced back at her. “I protect me people. Always.”
Something about that statement sent a warmth through her chest that had nothing to do with the one he’d left in her belly.
It took her a moment to realize what it was. She’d been taking care of Violet for so long, she’d forgotten what it felt like to have someone else take care of her.
That was the moment she stopped giving Aiden a hard time.
Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door, and he called, “Enter.”
A maid stepped inside and curtseyed to him, before looking at Hannah. “Will ye be wanting a bath, me Lady?”
Hannah let out a chuckle and raised her hands. “I’m nay lady. But a bath sounds nice.”
“Aye, miss,” the maid said quickly. “This way.”
Just as Hannah turned to follow her out of the room, Aiden caught her by the arm. “We’ll be having dinner together tonight.”
She felt a blush rush up her cheeks. “Wh—Nay.”
“I’m yer Laird, and I sayaye.”
He released her arm and walked through the door, leaving her gawking after him.
14
Aiden lifted his glass to the firelight, watching the way the whiskey clung to it. That was one way a person could tell good whiskey from bad: how it slid back down the glass when one swirled it.
Of course, there were all different varieties of whiskey. Light, almost yellow liquors that tasted of grass and sunshine, and dark amber ones that burned the throat as they went down and left you feeling as if you’d just gone ahead and taken a bite out of a peat heath.
His preference leaned toward the latter. Hannah’s whiskey was somewhere in the middle, carefully balanced in terms of weight and taste, suitable for all different types of whiskey lovers.
Perfect, he thought hazily, swallowing down the burn from his latest mouthful.Just like her.
The thought seemed to land in his head from somewhere else. He gave himself a little shake, drawing his eyebrows together.
