Page 19 of Highlander’s Lust

From the way she said it, Laird Brisbane could have sworn she meant to classify him with the roosters, but he could not be certain and certainly did not want to dwell on the topic long enough for her to find out more. Miss Jean Macanroy was no fool.

“Come, lass, let’s no’ think too much on these things. ‘Tis a pleasant day for riding out. What d’ye say?” Laird Brisbane took her hand and placed it on his arm, hurrying her out of the doors before she could ask another question.

Riding out together through the castle gates, Charlie felt his spirits lift as he looked at Jean mounted on her horse beside him. They galloped between fields grown high with wheat, paddocks with newborn foals trotting gamely next to their dams, and farmworkers diligently cutting back grass with their scythes. It was more than pleasurable; it was idyllic. The blue sky and fresh mountain air cleared his head, and the sun warmed his skin in a natural way, not like the artificial heat generated by whisky or a wench’s touch.

After some time was spent cantering across the estate and around the castle’s outer perimeter, Laird Brisbane reined in his mount, saying, “Let us stop a while by that copse, Jeannie. There’s a narrow stream where the horses can drink, and I have some food in me saddlebag.”

She was quick to rein in her horse under the shade of the trees in the copse, waiting for him to dismount and help her out of the saddle. He walked over and held out his arms for her. She gave him a lovely smile and then jumped. He caught her easily—she was as light as a feather—and he placed her down gently onto the grass.

After unbuckling the saddlebag and handing it to her, Laird Brisbane led the two horses a bit further away and tethered them close to the stream. By the time he had walked back to Jean, she had the food and flagons of wine out of the saddlebag and laid atop her lace kerchief, spread out on the grass. She had unbuttoned her coat to unwind the kerchief from around her neck. As he watched, she shrugged her arms out of the short coat she had on. The long-sleeved shift dress she had been wearing underneath the coat stuck close to her skin momentarily.

“It grows warm,” she remarked, untying the ribbons that held the shift tied close to her neck and pulling the garment open slightly, exposing her sweeping collarbone. Her skin gleamed with perspiration, sparkling in the sunbeams that were able to penetrate the branches above.

She pointed to her head. “If ye please, Laird, will ye…?”

He knew what she wanted and went to help Jean find all the pins that held her hat tightly on top of her hair. It was not as easy as he thought it would be, and Charlie was surprised at how intimate he was finding this particular task. Unpinning his betrothed’s hair was taking so long, his lairdship gave up bending over her and sat down behind her on the grass instead. He bent his knees, placing one on either side of her hips as he tried to get as close to her back as the voluminous skirts would allow. Trying to make it more comfortable for him, Jean leaned back until her shoulders were resting against his chest. It was the perfect position for Laird Brisbane to see Jean’s beauty from every angle. Her pale, swanlike neck rose off her shoulders like the stem of some exotic flower. The scent of jasmine wafted into the air around them, subtle enough not to compete with the perfume of fresh grass and summer flowers but more than enough to imprint itself on his memory forever. His fingers found the final pin in her hair and pulled it out. Freed of all constraints, the ringlets fell down her back and over his chest in a cascade of fiery shining red. He could not help himself. He ran his fingers through the strands and lifted them up to his mouth to inhale the scent. Then he bent over and placed a gentle kiss on the back of her neck.

She craned her neck around slowly. They were too comfortable and too warm to make any sudden movements. He saw that she was smiling, then she stretched like a cat and said, “Maybe if ye had stayed at the castle last night, ye would’ve been able to do this...an’ more.”

He was unprepared for such a statement. He would have sworn from the way the girl acted that morning she had no idea about last night. How much did she know? Charlie hated hunting in the dark.

He held Jean by the shoulders and pulled her closer to him. “Who told ye I went out last night?” Her back was to him, and Laird Brisbane would have given half his considerable fortune to know what the expression on her face was, but she remained resolutely staring forward.

“I overheard one of yer faither’s elderly maids chatting about yer late night departure and even later return, Laird Brisbane, so don’ try an’ cozen me ye didnae do it!” Jean sat forward and spun around to accost him face-to-face.

Laird Brisbane chose to take refuge in injured outrage. “Do what?”

Jean had no very good idea what a man would do after leaving his home drunk late at night, but she had an ominous feeling that it could not be good.

“I-I don’ ken what, but I do ken it was rude of ye to do so!” was all she could think to say. “And ye should try acting with more dignity if ye plan on being a better laird than yer faither was! And then maybe we could hire some maids to work at the castle that are no’ auld enough to be great-grandmithers!”

Now it was Charlie’s turn to be outraged. “It’s my castle an’ I’m laird, and if I want to hire young maids, I will!”

Jean stood up, brushing the grass off her skirts, the food and drink lying forgotten on the ground beneath her.

“Ye better no’ hire any female under the age of fifty until ye have changed yer ways, Charlie Brisbane! If ye do, I’ll go back to the lodge and never speak to ye again!”

Laird Brisbane knew it was up to him to pour oil onto these turbulent waters. He had tamed many outraged ladies with his charm and diplomatic skills over the twelve years he had spent carousing; he knew he needed to convince Jean of his innocence now, more than ever before.

Taking a deep breath, Laird Brisbane lowered the tone of his voice and stood up, saying, “This bickering is fruitless, Jean, and grieves me more than ye can ever know.” He took a step toward her. “I swear upon me clan’s honor that all I did last night was escort Gavin back to his lodge. It was late, so I accepted Chieftain MacTavish’s offer of hospitality. It will no’ happen again, I promise.”

Jean’s figure remained rigid, and her face looked stern.

“Laird Brisbane, I trust yer word. But have a care ye dinnae tarnish yer clan’s honor with false oaths and promises. Me faither told me that all a laird needs to maintain his dignity is the love of his wife and children…and don’ ye think ye’re getting a little too auld for drunken larks with yer drinking companion?”

Her words wounded him. He hoped their pleasant day in the sun was not ruined.