Page 39 of Fire in his Highland Heart

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I can wait. Wi’out ye, we’d have no precious bread for our feasts.”

“I’ll thank ye not tae take cheek wi’ me,” Arguen quipped, throwing the dough on the table before kneading it again.

“My dearest Arguen, ye must ken by now. Cheek is all I have,” he said with a wink.

“All the cheek in the world won’t get ye a wife,” Mrs. Kinney said dryly.

James pretended to be shocked and hurt, clutching his chest. “Mrs. Kinney, ye wound me.”

“Och, but ye ken I’m right,” she said with that twinkle in her eye.

“Ye ken I cannae settle down when so many bonnie lasses are ‘round.”

“Ye’ll have tae pick one soon. Ye cannae keep drivin’ all the lasses mad,” Mrs. Kinney said.

Arguen was content to listen to the way they spoke to each other, almost like mother and son. She had missed this, the casual camaraderie. Soon, she had finished kneading the bread, and was ready to let it rise by itself.

After cleaning her hands, she brushed them on her apron (freshly changed, thankfully—the bloodied petticoats had been burnt after she treated Mirellain), and was ready to speak to the laird.

James did not tease nor talk during the silent walk to Blake’s study. Instead, she listened to the delightful sounds of him biting into the apple and chewing. Charming indeed, she thought.

When at last they reached the door to his study, James knocked. Blake’s deep voice bade them enter, but James left them alone to speak, citing privacy. After the door had closed, Blake smiled at her and bade her sit down in one of the chairs across from his desk. This room, she could tell, was not unlike the library. It had that same dark, academic quality to it that the library had, only she could tell that this room was for work, not wonder. Papers, maps, quills, inkwells, a compass, and another small model of the globe littered his desk. For the first time, she could see what his mind was like. Her mother had always told her that someone’s workbench or table or desk was a visual representation of their mind. Arguen could clearly see that Blake was intelligent and diligent, but his brain was clearly busting with ideas.

“Is Mirellain well? Has she lasped intae sickness again?” she asked, genuinely concerned.

Blake shook his head. “Nay, she is well. Playing in the garden, in fact. She taught Patsy how tae make flower crowns like ye showed her.”

Arguen motioned toward the window, her way of silently asking if she could take a look. Sure enough, Mirellain was running around in the grass with a crown of leaves and daisies on her head. She smiled, enjoying the idyllic scene before her. The gardens here at Ernmore were lovely. Only a few roses were left, as they were in the last days of summer now, but it was clear that Blake had a good gardener on staff. She was happy to see Mirellain look so joyful and lively after watching her cough and moan for the past couple weeks. And her strength seemed to be returning every day. She felt Blake’s large frame loom behind her, and saw him place his hand on the edge of the window next to her. He was so close that she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. Those damned flutters in her stomach started up again.

“When I said I owe ye a great debt, I meant it,” he whispered.

Arguen turned back to look at him, half-startled that he was so close. And looking at her so...amorously.

“Yer lairdship,” she began, but he cut her off gently.

“Ye can simply call me Blake. No need for such formalities now,” he said.

Arguen cleared her throat, feeling that blush climb in her cheeks. “Blake...letting me stay here at the castle, giving me a cottage in which tae live an’ work...ye’ve done enough already. I think Douglas would be more than satisfied wi’ how ye repaid yer debt.”

“But ye saved my daughter’s life. Surely that creates a new one,” he said, bringing his hand up to her cheek and stroking it tenderly with his thumb.

Arguen froze, knowing where this might lead. She didn’t entirely disapprove, but her mind was having trouble processing that it was even happening. She’d worked so hard to convince herself that Blake would never be interested in her like this, so to feel such a tender touch and see such an amorous look made her stomach flutter and her cheeks blush like roses.

“I’ve told ye, ye owe me no debt,” she implored.

Blake continued to brush his thumb tenderly across her cheekbone. “Aye, but at least let me do somethin’ for ye. Somethin’ kind.”

“Like...like what?” she stammered as his other arm went around her waist and pulled her closer.

He answered with the gentlest of kisses, his lips capturing hers in a sweet embrace. She froze for a second, not knowing quite how to react, but soon she found herself melting into it as well, and pressed her body against his, her hands moving up to hold the back of his neck. His tongue grazed her bottom lip ever so lightly, and she acquiesced, letting him in for more. Soon she could feel him smiling through the kiss, and they broke apart.

Arguen bit her bottom lip shyly, and he finally relaxed his hold on her. “So... was that it?” she asked, hoping she sounded flirtatious and not disappointed.

He chuckled. “I s’pose that could be part of it. But...nay. I was thinking...I dinnae want tae host a ball, not after the castle is recovering from sickness. Instead, I thought...maybe ye’d like tae attend a small feast with me, in the library.”

The thought was intriguing indeed. Arguen did like the library, and longed to spend more time in there. And now that Blake had kissed her...how romantic would it be for him to kiss her amongst all the books?

“A feast?” she asked.