Fraser 03 - Highland Homecoming (8 page)

His touch made her pulse speed up and her legs grew weak. Why did he affect her so? “I—I’m fine,” she stammered, then stiffened in his arms.

“About last night,” he blurted out. “I must ask your forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness?”

“I am sorry for kissing you and assure you it willna happen again.”

He said the words with such conviction, it served to further reinforce her belief that he had no interest in her on a personal level. Then why did her heart race and her breath catch ever time he got close?

“Dinna give it a second thought. A bheil an t-acras ort?"

He tossed his head back and laughed at her question. “According to my brothers, I am always hungry. Come, and we’ll enjoy the meal you’ve prepared.”

With him steadfast at her side, she hobbled to the stool beside the table and sat while he dished out the food, then placed it before her.

“I havena had bannock or sweet rolls in many months.” Alasdair tore off another piece and offered it to Lauren.

He dug into his meal with gusto. The man obviously enjoyed his food. Yet, while he had a very large-boned build, he was extremely well muscled and carried no extra weight. Again, she found herself admiring his fine physique and the way the fire lit up his rugged, chiseled features. The more time they spent together, the fonder she became of her benefactor. She’d miss him when she left and wondered if they’d met under other circumstances, if they would have found love.

They enjoyed their meal and engaged in light conversation. Alasdair proved to be quite entertaining, once he allowed himself to relax. He told her tales of his brothers and their antics when they were younger. She found his sense of humor
refreshing. Something she would never have expected when they first met.

Despite their pleasurable evening, she was plagued by thoughts of her recent dream. Efforts to remain focused on Alasdair and their discussion were fruitless. She had to discover the truth. If she returned to her own clan, she would soon be married, mayhap to a man she dinna know or love. Should she tell Alasdair she remembered more about the man on the ship, that while she was not married, she was spoken for? Or should she keep her secret and pray that if they had more time together, he might find her appealing and fight for her hand? She decided on the latter, but if he believed her on the mend and ready to travel, time was running out.

Lauren covered her mouth and yawned. “I am verra tired and think it might be wise tae return tae the pallet.” She placed her hands on the table and rose.

“Your ankle appears tae be healing nicely. We should be able tae leave soon. Mayhap on the morrow.” He handed her the walking stick. “But I dinna think it wise tae overdo. Mayhap I should carry you?”

“I can do this.” She took a step, but her legs gave way and she collapsed to the floor.

Alasdair was at her side in seconds.

“I guess my ankle isna as strong as I’d thought.”

He lifted her and carried her to the pallet. “You need tae rest. If you canna travel yet, another day willna make a difference.”

Chapter 8

Guilt tugged at her belly. Alasdair had shown her nothing but kindness and she hated to deceive him. Withholding information about the vast improvements in her ankle and the events she’d remembered in her recent dream was wrong. But she was convinced telling him might hasten their departure, not postpone it.

Despite her efforts, she couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that squeezed her chest each time he mentioned the name Sinclair. If anything, the trepidation she experienced grew stronger. Her only option was to make Alasdair believe she was not quite ready to travel and use any means in her power to do so. She crossed herself when he wasn’t looking and vowed beneath her breath to make amends, somehow.

“I am sorry tae be such a bother.”

“You’ve no need tae apologize, lass. I should have taken things a wee bit slower. Can I get you anything afore I say goodnight?”

Why did he have to be so gracious? Lying would be easier if he’d show his gruff, stubborn side again.

She shook her head. “I’ve everything I need and appreciate all you’ve done for me. Tapadh leat.” She glanced away, unable to meet his eyes for fear she’d give herself away, or worse, surrender to temptation and ask him again to share her pallet.

The thought of another kiss caused her pulse to race and her cheeks to heat. But after the first one they’d shared, Alasdair had made no attempt to repeat the act. True, he’d cleaned up his appearance and freshened his breath with fennel. He had shared a little about his past and even brought her flowers, but he also vowed he would never make improper advances again. Her heart sank. Mayhap he didn’t find her appealing and was more anxious to be rid of her than she’d thought.

“Sleep well, Lauren. Hopefully, you’ll feel better on the morrow.”

When Alasdair turned to leave, she touched him. “Please . . .”

“Is there something you need?” His brows knit together as he stared at her fingers resting on his forearm.

“Last night when you kissed me—”

“It was a mistake and I promised it wouldna happen again,” he said, then withdrew his arm. “I thought we agreed tae put it behind us.”

“If you dinna find me appealing, I understand.” She lowered her gaze and nibbled on her lower lip to stop it from quivering.

“I’ve told you afore, you’re a verra comely lass. Any man seeking a bride would be proud tae call you his own. But I’m a warrior. I have sworn my sword and my life tae the Scottish King and I mean tae honor that vow. I have no desire tae marry and willna ruin a lass tae merely sate my desires.”

“You have never bedded a lass?” She found that hard to believe. Alasdair was a brawny, virile warrior. If she were to wager a guess, she’d assume he’d warmed many pallets.

“I’ve not bedded a maiden,” Alasdair growled and began to pace beside the pallet. “Why must women persist in badgering a man until he is ready tae erupt with anger? They are never happy tae let things be.”

“Mayhap I wouldna be questioning you if I understood your lack of interest in women and why you mistrust them so.” The words spilled out before she could stop them.

Alasdair halted abruptly, his posture rigid. “While my personal life is none of your concern, I dinna fancy lads, nor am I a damned eunuch if that is what you think. If you must know, I have bedded and satisfied many women in the past, but never one who is untried. I havena and willna take a lass’ innocence unless I’m prepared to marry her, no matter how attractive I find her.” He pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “I demand we end this discussion now.”

“I dinna know if I am a maiden or not,” she muttered.

“A verra guid reason for me tae leave your pallet afore anything transpired.” He threw his hands in the air. “You dinna remember your past and might verra well have a husband and babes waiting tae welcome you home. Once I’ve seen you safely tae Sinclair Castle, I will rejoin the cause. Chances are we willna cross paths again.”

He was right. She didn’t recall her past. But if what she dreamed was true, she wasn’t married. However, she was betrothed to a man she didn’t know and had been attacked by a man her father trusted and called friend. Mayhap she’d been mistaken, and if she told Alasdair about her latest dream, he might reconsider. But the information could also give him more reason to hasten their departure. Besides, until her memory fully returned, she could not be certain if the events in her dream really happened.

“You are an honorable man. I’d like tae think I am not the sort of woman who offers my virtue freely.”

His voice mellowed. “I am not a saint by any means. I am human and do have needs. Leaving your pallet last night was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But you asked me tae stay with you out of fear, not passion.”

“True. But it doesna mean I would refuse tae consider your courtship were circumstances different.”

Alasdair swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. Did he hear her correctly? Had she said she’d welcome his courtship? Nay, like all women, she was only saying the words she thought he wanted to hear. He’d been duped by a lass’ wiles and taken for a fool in the past. He was not about to do it again. Women only flattered and flirted with men like him when it suited a purpose.

“You dinna know me well enough tae make such a statement, m’lady. My thoughts are not nearly as pure as my actions.”

“I’ve gotten tae know you better than you think these last few days. I can tell by the way you speak and how tense you become when the topic of women is mentioned that someone has hurt you verra deeply. However, just as all dogs arena black, not all women are the same. Then again, I’m not looking for a man in my life either.” She rolled over, snuggled beneath the pelts, and closed her eyes.

He blew out a heavy sigh. Finally, she was ready to settle
for the night and they could finish this conversation. Had it continued much longer, he’d have tossed his morals aside and silence her by climbing under the pelts, kissing her senseless, and finding his release.

He trudged back to the hearth. After tossing several large logs on the fire, he plunked himself on a stool. He removed his boots and his clothes followed. He glanced from the pallet to the pelt on the floor and back. There was no question where he’d rather spend the night. But he was not about to let down his guard, to open his heart to her, only to have it ripped from his chest if her words proved to be lie or a husband came to claim her. Regardless of what she’d said, he get any randy thoughts of Lauren out of his head.

But that was easier said than done. He lay there, staring up at the rafters for what seemed like hours, his mind racing with possibilities, his aching shaft engorged and ready. The soft lilt of her laughter echoed in his mind and he could smell the fresh, sweet scent of her porcelain-like skin. He pictured her naked body, the sleek feminine figure he’d beheld the night he’d found her on the beach and removed her wet clothes. He groaned at the conjured image of her sensual curves, pert round breasts, and the way her perfectly sculpted bottom fit into his lap. His groin stirred to the point of pain.

He could relieve himself using a man’s oldest means, but with his luck, she’d awaken and catch him in the lewd act. It would be so easy to slide in behind her, and, buried to the hilt, ease his discomfort, while bringing her to the height of pleasure.

Why me, Lord? What did I do to displease you?

Again he questioned the Almighty’s wisdom and wondered why he’d seen fit to torture him so. For the first time, he understood the inner turmoil his brothers had experienced when they met Cailin and Fallon. He’d teased them both relentlessly, was certain they’d lost their good senses, and could not fathom why any man that was right in the head would chose to tie himself down to one lass, to any lass.

He had no intention of perusing Lauren or any woman, but his conviction to remain on his chosen path didn’t stay the lust and desire coursing through his veins. Walking the fine line between duty and desire was not as easy as he’d believed. Neither was dropping his guard or letting go of the past. Self-doubt and the inability to trust had been his constant companions, the reasons for the skeptical way he’d lived his life for so long.

He bunched a length of plaid under his head, rolled to his side, and focused on the fire—anything to get his mind off Lauren.

When Lauren awakened at daybreak and glanced around the croft, she wasn’t surprised that Alasdair had left. Given his terse reaction when she’d brought up their kiss, the way he dodged her questions, and a sinking feeling of dismay grinding in the pit of her stomach, she was certain today would be the day he insisted they depart for Sinclair Castle. Mayhap he was outside readying the horse.

Time had run out. She should have told him about her dream. But second-guessing her decision now would do no good. When he returned, she would explain all she had remembered and, hopefully, he would decide to help, and not forsake her.

When she stood, her ankle felt much stronger than it had yesterday. The notion of running briefly crossed her mind again, but she had no idea where she’d go.

The morning passed quickly and she’d spent most of the time in conflict, trying to decide how best to broach the subject. When she heard two voices outside the croft, her heart all but stopped. Alasdair had returned. She recognized the deep timber of his voice right away, but who was he talking to?

She crept to the door and opened it wide enough to see two men standing a few feet from the croft and to hear their conversation. Alasdair’s size and stance was unmistakable, but she could not see the face of the man who accompanied him. However, the cadence of his voice was shockingly familiar. Did she know this man?

“I’m relieved tae see you hale and hardy, my friend. I was worried when you dinna show up a sennight ago, as planned. What possessed you tae stop here rather than finishing the journey tae the castle? Other than when a few of my clansmen stayed here during the fall hunt, no one has used this place for many years. I havena been here since we were lads,” the stranger said, then threw his arms around Alasdair and hugged him. “I’ve missed coming here and you.”

“I was on my way tae your castle when I came across a lass on the beach. She had fallen, hit her head, and was needed my assistance,” Alasdair replied. “I dinna mean to cause you any concern, but I couldna leave her alone and there was no way tae send word of my delay.”

“A lass, you say? Does she have a name?” He stepped around Alasdair and peered toward the croft. “Is she inside?”

Alasdair nodded and followed as the man stepped onto the porch. “She wasna able tae remember much after she bumped her head, but she thinks her name is Lauren. Might you know her?”

“The name isna familiar, but I dinna know every new member of the clan. With the English on the run and so many villages destroyed in their paths, people show up all the time looking for a place tae live. Mayhap seeing her will jog my memory.” He threw back his head and laughed.

“What do you find so funny?” Alasdair asked.

“I canna picture you playing nurse tae anyone, let a lone a lass. Is she at least a comely wench?”

“She’s bonny enough.”

“Well that explains the delay.” The man thumped Alasdair on the back. “You’ve been at war a long time, my friend.” His grin broadened. “I can only imagine what it would be like spending most of your time in the company of men. Without bonny lassies to warm your bed, it must have been pretty lonely. I canna blame you for taking the time tae rut with a willing chit.”

“Nothing happened between us,” Alasdair replied gruffly. “She hurt her ankle in the fall, as well as her head, and wasna able tae sit a horse. I cared for her needs and tended her injuries, that’s all. She is on the mend and I was planning tae leave on the morrow.”

“Dinna get your back up, man. I was not implying you did anything wrong. Mind you, I am not so sure I could have found the same kind of restraint.”

“That’s because you are a swine and have no manners.” Alasdair returned the man’s slap on the back with such force it nearly sent him toppling off the porch.

“I wouldna try that again,” the man growled. “I could beat you in a wrestling match when you were a bairn and I still can.” At least a head shorter then Alasdair, the man glared skyward, his fists balled at his side. “Even if you have grown to be the size of a giant.”

“A lot has changed in twelve summers.”

“I’ll say. The last time I saw you, a strong wind could blow you over and your hair was as red as carrots.”

“I dinna need you tae remind me. And tae set things straight, few men could best me in a wrestling match. You’d be a damned fool tae try.” Alasdair planted his hand on the man’s shoulder and urged him toward the door. “Mayhap I should go inside first and make sure the lass is decent.”

“Or mayhap we can go inside and she willna be.” The man laughed.

She’d heard that whimsical cackle before. But her heart rose in her throat when the stranger’s features came into view. Her trembling hand came up to cover her mouth. “Jayden,” she mumbled aloud. The reason the Sinclair name made her feel ill at ease was now very clear.

Panic squeezed her chest and she found it hard to draw a breath. She didn’t want him to find her. Turning on her heel and moving as fast as her legs could go—given they suddenly felt
like iron weights—she made her way to the back door of the croft, and exited, just as the front door opened.