Page 49 of Fire in his Highland Heart

Or was he?

Before marriage, he’d been a much happier person. He smiled, he enjoyed spending time with his friends. He’d changed when his father died and left him the duties of laird. He’d been somber with his wife, and even more so after she was gone. So perhaps...he was becoming more himself than he’d ever been. Every time Arguen visited the castle, his heart skipped a beat or two. Seeing her, being able to touch her and speak with her made his day all the brighter. There had been many hasty, quick, stolen kisses in dark corners or behind doors, but Arguen still made it clear she did not want to be a mistress.

After putting Mirellain to bed one night and saying her prayers with her, he headed back to his own chamber. He unbuttoned his doublet, thinking of the time Arguen had unbuttoned it for him so slowly and lovingly, and threw it on the chair next to the hearth,. He flopped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling; his mind absolutely spent. It had been whirling for so long, but it had finally seemed to stop, He felt nothing. For a few wonderful moments, it was honestly peaceful, and he almost drifted off to sleep until Arguen’s beautiful face started to roll across his mind every few moments.

And then he was up. He had to do something about this. He grabbed his greatcoat off the back of one of the chairs, pulled it on along with his riding boots, and left, not even bothering with the doublet again. He took a lantern with him, seeing as the sun had set an hour or two ago. It was highly unusual, what he was doing. If anyone were to see him like this, half-dressed and walking across the meadows in the dead of night, they might question his sanity. He did not stop until he reached Arguen’s cottage, relieved to see it lit from within.

He took a deep breath and pushed down all bad thoughts. If he came to his senses right now, he might never say what he needed to say. With that, he knocked on her door. There was a bit of shuffling and clanking, as if she were putting things away in haste.

When she finally opened the door, a sense of awe and relief washed over him. Her hair was down, tumbling over her shoulders in beautiful silver waves. Her cheeks were bright pink, as if she’d been exerting herself with her work. It seemed that she too was in a state of half-dress. What most struck him was her bright blue eyes, which were wide with both surprise and amusement.

“Blake,” she exclaimed. “What’re ye doin’ here?”

He gave a sheepish smile. “I um...I wanted tae see ye.”

“Here? At this time?” she asked, amusement turning to confusion.

“Aye, I... I’m sorry. I couldnae stop thinkin’ of ye. I had tae come see ye.”

“I was just...preparin’ some herbs. Erm...ye can come in, if ye want.” She stepped aside to let him in.

Blake gratefully followed her and placed his lantern on the worktable below the window. He’d never been in this cottage before, not even when Mrs. Kinney and her daughter occupied it. It was quaint, sweet. He could tell Arguen had done a great deal to it upon her arrival. It was clean and sparkling and quite homey, and he could see how patients would feel so at ease.

“This is a charming cottage,” he said lamely, and cursed himself inwardly.

Arguen nodded and looked anywhere but his eyes. “Aye, ‘tis. I believe Mrs. Kinney kept good care of it when her daughter passed.”

Blake fiddled with the edge of his coat pocket, unsure of what to say next.

“Can I make some tea for ye?” she asked, clearly feeling as awkward as he did.

“Nay, nay. Dinnae trouble yersel.”

“Maybe some stew, then…?” she asked.

He shook his head, feeling rather stupid for coming to her home like this, having prepared nothing.

“So... what can I...” she began, but he cut her off suddenly.

“I love ye,” he burst out. He knew that’s what he was feeling, he knew that’s what he’d come to say, but how to go about it...it seemed to be one of those things he could only blurt out unceremoniously.

Arguen stood there, dumbfounded. She suspected it, of course, but hearing him say the words aloud to her, in his state of undress, in the dark of night like this? She could scarcely believe it herself.

“I... Blake, I...I dinnae ken what tae say…”

He gulped nervously. “Ye dinnae have tae breathe a word. An’ if ye dinnae feel the same, I’ll go. I understand. If ye dinnae want me, I can -”

She cut him off with a searing, passionate kiss, in which she grasped the front of his shirt to pull him down to her level. When she finally pulled away, she was a bit breathless. “Ye can be so foolish sometimes, Blake.”

He kissed her again, all frenzied and frantic. Hands were everywhere, grabbing and touching and feeling until Arguen was backed against the wall, Blake’s body pressed to her own.

“So does that mean...” he murmured against her neck.

“Aye, Blake. I love ye, too.”

Something in him snapped, and she must have seen it in his eyes, for her own were now wide with anticipation as he pulled her closer, squeezing her rear and kissing her furiously. Her fingers worked with dexterity to unbutton his greatcoat, allowing him to shimmy it off and throw it aside. His shirt followed quickly after that, and Arguen hummed appreciatively as her hands found their way to his chest.

“Breeches…” he said breathlessly between kisses, “need to come off…” another kiss, “now.”