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Not even to herself, in her own mind. It was easier to forget.
And yet, Kieran had told her something of himself no others knew. So she made an exception.
“I was furious when my father betrothed me to him. None could look at Baldwin and believe him to be suitable for me. Twice my age, he took better care of the inn than himself. Worse, he was not a nice man. Cared for coin, and naught else.”
“Had he married before you?”
“Aye. He was widowed twice, and Baldwin was desperate for a son. I should amend, he cared for coin, but also his legacy. Shall we turn here?”
Kieran did not answer but he did make the turn with her. His look was a questioning one, and so she told him the truth.
“I will say simply,” she said, “his will and ability to beget a son dinnae align well.” She added, “Thankfully.”
Kieran stopped. Maisie followed.
“I am sorry for it,” he said, his expression sincere.
“I am not,” Maisie said bluntly.
Kieran smiled. “You would be, if you knew a man properly.”
His meaning was clear.
No. No. No. Do not gaze at me that way.
Her mind and body did not seem to be of the same accord. Maisie wanted to end the conversation. To continue walking. To do anything but what her traitor feet did next.
They stepped toward him. A wee step. But a step, nonetheless.
And he noticed.
8
Chapter
He’d not lured the woman out here to ravage her.
In fact, anything but. He wished to be honest with Maisie about the reason for his stay at her inn. And there was a part of him that wished to share his story as well, if he were being honest. And yet, thinking of her marrying a man such as her husband, Maisie clearly having been turned away from being with a man because of it . . .
He wanted to show her it need not be that way.
“Have you been with another man besides your husband?” A cheeky question, to be certain. But with that one step toward him, Maisie had confirmed her attraction to him. One he’d matched with his own since the moment they had met.
“Nay,” she said, her chin rising.
“Surely you’ve been kissed before him though, aye?”
She shook her head.
“No stolen kisses at all? A stable boy? None bold enough to express his interest in you? Surely this cannae be so. You are a very beautiful woman, Maisie. As I’m certain you’ve been told many, many times.”
She hardly moved at all now, but Maisie did continue to look up at him without breaking her gaze. “My father was very careful not to leave me alone with any boy. Or man. He worried, because of my visage . . .” She trailed off.
“He worried for good reason, I am certain.”
No man had kissed her. None besides a horrid husband, at least.
Kieran stirred at the thought of it. At being the first to give a woman such as Maisie her first real kiss. But the very desirable thought had little to do with whether or not it was a good idea. In fact, there was little to recommend the thought besides the pleasure he, or both of them, would get from it.
