“It’s me,” he said. “You’re safe. But I’ve a mind to step outside for a bit and look at the stars. Thought you might be interested in joining me.”
“It’s not proper,” she said.
“You’ve looked at the stars a thousand times alone or with others. None said a thing.”
“Plenty said things, but no one heeded because they knew me better than that.”
He let the silence hang for a moment, wrapping them in an intimacy that had his organ thickening despite his intention. Then he finally spoke. “I’ve a need to speak with you, Mairi. Will you no’ give me a moment of yer time?” He let his brogue thicken and saw her shoulders ease a measure from the sound. He well remembered how hard it was to understand the Sassenach when he first went to school. The sound of a brogue felt good to him then well beyond the normal measure. He could see that it did the same for her.
“A moment only, Connall Aberbeag. And if you do anything I don’t want—”
“You’ll cut me to the quick one way or another.”
“Do not doubt it.”
He didn’t. But rather than speak, he set his hand to her back and guided her down the kitchen stairs. There was a servant’s entrance that led into an alley. A short walk landed them in a small bit of green in the vast brick of London. They travelled in silence, neither needing a coat. By the time they were in the small park, she was looking up at the sky with disgust.
“Not a star to be seen through all the coal dust.”
“Nae, there’s one.” He stepped close to her and pointed up at the sky.
“One,” she said, clearly grumbling about it. “And maybe a couple more, there and there.”
“Aye.” He sighed. “It’s not like home, is it?” At home, he could see the vast array of the heavens. Here there was little but gray.
“Did you hear Mr. Berry complain about the cold? As if this is anything but a cool summer’s night.”
“Miss Gray and Miss Doyle agreed with him. Said they’d be shivering beneath their coats soon.”
Mairi snorted. “Those two would agree with anything a man said, even if he claimed the sun was blue.”
That was likely true. “Do they think a man is so weak that he must be complimented at every turn?”
She shrugged. “It would work with many a man, I suppose.”
“I cannot imagine you doing something so silly.”
“I don’t know,” she said, her tone becoming bitter. “I’ve flattered many a man just to get him to agree with what I wanted. It’s the only way to handle a drunk.”
He couldn’t argue with her there, but he disliked thinking she ever had to manage with such men. He knew it had been part of her regular duties as the MacCleal chatelaine, but he thought that was wrong of the MacCleal. A woman should not be left alone to manage men. It was too dangerous, though obviously Mairi appeared to have held her own.
Which naturally brought to mind what he wanted to discuss with her. Still, it was an awkward transition to make. He did not like comparing his youthful follies to drunken men, but he couldn’t deny the comparison. Just as they were overcome with drink, he’d been overwhelmed by his lust, and that was a shameful thing.
“Mairi,” he said, his tone grave. “Seems to me we’ve got something between us that needs to be settled.”
“No, Connall, we don’t.” Was there a hint of panic in her voice? He couldn’t tell, but he couldn’t go softer even if she was afraid of this conversation.
“But I think we do. Ten years ago, I was a brute with you. I wanted you so bad that I—”
“You’ve apologized before for this, Connall.”
“I have. But you’ve never forgiven me for it, and I want to know why.”
She sniffed as she turned away from him. “It’s not for me to explain myself to you. There’s no law that says I must forgive a man merely for saying sorry. The word’s easy enough—”
“Have I ever done such a thing to you again?”
“You know better.”
