Love Beyond Compare (Book 5 of Morna’s Legacy Series) (9 page)

“Is the other one awake yet? I’m sorry, I doona know his name.”

Adwen laughed and a small snort escaped him, bringing a flush of red to his cheeks in embarrassment. “Orick. And only one of two things will wake him—either the smell of food or the need to relieve himself. We shall have to wait to see which one.”

Isobel laughed, motioning to a seat inside the small room.
 

“Is that no true of most men? If I dinna cough so, I imagine Gregor would be the same.”

He took the seat as she bid, satisfied that the horses would hold for a few more moments. “Aye, ’tis true enough.”

His stomach growled loudly, bringing Isobel to her feet as she smiled and winked at him, jerking her head in the direction of the kitchen.
 

“And so it was yer stomach that awakened ye this morning, aye? Come with me. I’ll fix ye something to eat.”

Adwen followed her willingly into the kitchen. Since the moment he’d smelled Jane’s stew, his stomach had been churning in hunger.
 

The short trip from the sitting room to the kitchen was enough to exhaust Isobel. Although he knew she tried to hide it, he didn’t miss how she gripped the end of the table to keep herself steady and how she spoke slowly in an effort to keep from coughing as she tried to catch her breath.

“I doona wish for ye to prepare food for me, Isobel. Rather, ye shall sit and rest while I do the cooking.”

She waved a hand at him, managing a quiet laugh. “O’course I willna allow ye to do that. Do ye even know how to cook?”

Adwen smiled, moving around the table so that he could gently guide her to a seat, ignoring her objections all the way.

“Aye, I do. I had a verra good teacher.”

“Aye? Who?”

“My mother.”

Isobel smiled and took to resting her chin in the palm of her hand. Adwen took it as a sign of resignation and went about roaming the kitchen, taking in the stocks of food to see the items that he had to work with.
 

“’Tis no proper for me to allow ye to do this, Adwen—or would ye prefer me to call ye Laird MacChristy? I should have addressed ye so to begin with.”

“Ach, please never refer to me as laird. I doona care for the title now, nor will I when I take my position. And I doona care if ye think it proper. ’Tis evident that ye are no well enough to even stand, lass. Ye should still be in yer bed, no down in the kitchen. I can tell by looking at ye that ye’ve no much time left.”

She looked shocked by his words and Adwen momentarily regretted his honesty, only relaxing once Isobel spoke.
 

“Thank ye.”
 

“For what, lass? My words werena kind, and they were hardly worth any thanks.”

“For no behaving as if I am unaware of how sick I am. I know well enough that what ye say is true. I grow tired of all those around me pretending that they doona know it as well.”

Adwen nodded, turning to gather up a handful of fresh eggs, already gathered so they’d be ready for breakfast. His mother had been the exact opposite of Isobel during her own sickness. While all those around her could see plainly just how ill she truly was, she denied it to the end—not ever accepting that she’d reached the end of her life. Even as she lay on her deathbed, she swore she would get better. Every denial, every bit of hope that his mother clung to had broken his heart completely.
 

“Ye are strong, Isobel. Stronger than most who fight such an illness—I can see that by looking at ye. I doona see any need to lie to ye nor no speak of it, no when I can hear how sick ye are every time ye cough.”
 

Isobel stood, moving slowly to stand behind him, peering over his shoulder as he worked at whisking the eggs together.
 

“Aye, ’tis true enough. I couldna hide my sickness even if I tried. What are ye doing to the eggs, Adwen? Do ye no boil them?”

Adwen laughed and pointed gently back to the seat from which Isobel had come. “Just go sit back down and doona worry about the eggs. ’Tis something I learned during my travels. I know that most in these parts boil their eggs but, trust me, ye will find this to yer liking.”

“Aye, fine. Ye have intrigued me. If ye like, there is some dried herring in the back that ye may do what ye will with, but ye may wish to make eggs for four; Gregor has already eaten, but Jane shall be along shortly and, if what ye say is true, then yer man shall awaken soon as well.”

Adwen couldn’t help but smile at the mention of Jane’s name. In truth, he’d hoped she would come along before he and Orick left—even if it would only result in her further aggravation. He very much enjoyed the way she looked when angry.
 

Isobel laughed, and he realized then that she’d not missed his ill-timed grin.
 

“She’s a beauty, without question. One evening alone with the lass and both of ye smile like wee fools at the sound of her name.”

Adwen made a gruff sound, his own irritation building at the memory of Jane’s arms wrapped around Orick’s thick neck. Clearly the lass had done it for only one purpose, but he knew that Orick had gained more than enough enjoyment from the exchange. The thought displeased him greatly.
 

“Ach, Orick would smile if a one-legged fairy kissed him as Jane did. I doona think he overly fancies the lass.” Adwen moved the egg mixture, now seasoned with dried herbs, to the shallow pot hanging above the fire. He reached for a wooden spoon, stirring the mixture as it cooked while looking back to Isobel as she spoke.
 

“Ah, so ’tis no Orick that fancies Jane, ’tis ye.”

Orick’s voice joined in on their conversation, and Adwen turned away to hide his expression—his friend’s tone remained laced with amusement.
 

“I wouldna allow a fairy to kiss me, one leg or no. No good has ever come to any man who kissed a fairy. But I do fancy the lass, no in the way ye mean I imagine, but I would fall in love at first sight with any lass who had the wits about her to reject Adwen so ardently.”

Adwen ground his teeth firmly together, determined to remain gentlemanly in the presence of Isobel. Instead, he said nothing, allowing Orick and Isobel to continue the conversation without him while he turned his attention back to cooking.
 

“So do ye mean ye dinna enjoy the kiss the two of ye shared? If ye say ye dinna, I willna believe ye.”

Orick laughed and, as Adwen dished each of them a serving of eggs along with a side of herring onto wooden plates, Adwen resisted the temptation to spit onto the center of Orick’s plate.
 

“Nay, I canna say that. I enjoyed it more than any kiss I’ve had in me life, but I know well enough why she kissed me. ’Tis she who would kiss a one-legged fairy if it meant proving Adwen wrong.”

“What do ye mean by that, Orick?”
 

Adwen turned quickly, plates in hand, as he did his best to interrupt the conversation. “Food is ready. Taste these eggs and tell me if they are no the best ye have ever tasted.”

To Adwen’s delight, the temptation of food distracted Orick enough that he didn’t answer Isobel’s question, instead starting in on the food immediately. Isobel quickly followed suit.
 

“So? Did I lie to ye?”

Isobel smiled, and Adwen sat down to eat his own food. Jane could eat hers when she arrived—he didn’t imagine she’d wish to dine with him anyway.
 

“No, much to my surprise, ye dinna. I shall have to teach Jane how to cook the eggs this way.”

“He’s no verra good at much, but I’ll admit that Adwen knows how to prepare a proper meal.” Orick begrudgingly gave the compliment.

“I can see that. Now, what did ye mean about Jane proving Adwen wrong?” Isobel turned her head briefly to address Adwen directly. “Doona think that I dinna notice how quickly ye went about feeding us right at the time I asked the question. I am no distracted easily. If anything, yer efforts have only increased my curiosity.”

Adwen laughed, nodding as he relented to the knowledge that inevitably Isobel would learn what really had happened the evening before. Even if he prevented Orick from relaying the tale, Jane surely would tell her the next moment the two of them were alone. At least now, he was there to make certain the true version was told.
 

It shocked him to realize that it didn’t bother him overmuch. He wished to be her friend—a desire he’d never had for another woman in his life.
 

“Go on and tell her, Orick. ’Tis clear that she has no intention of speaking of anything else ’til ye do.” Adwen leaned forward in his chair, stuffing his mouth full of eggs as Orick spoke.
 

“Adwen asked Jane to bed him, just outright, and the lass took offense to it, as she should. Adwen’s so foolish he couldna believe she’d deny him unless she enjoyed the company of other women. She only kissed me to prove to him that she didn’t.”

Adwen clenched his jaw as Isobel took to laughing so loudly, he was certain she would keel over from the effort at any moment. She laughed until the coughing overtook her. Only after stopping to catch her breath did she speak.
 

“No, Adwen, ye dinna? I’ll no say that I have much experience with men trying to bed me, but surely ye know enough of women to know that few would no take offense to such a question.”

Swallowing the mouthful of eggs, he smiled. “I can tell ye with certainty that more than a few have no taken offense.”

The smile on Adwen’s face slowly diminished as he took in the look of utter disgust on Isobel’s.

“If ’tis true, Adwen, I can promise ye that ye have no been bedding the right lassies.”

“I have told him that more than once, Isobel.” Orick stood, nodding his head toward Isobel as he stepped toward the door. “But…he doesna ever listen to me. I think it best that I ready our horses, but I thank ye for yer hospitality and I hope that we meet again one day.”

Adwen watched as Orick kissed Isobel’s hand before ducking through the doorway, leaving them alone.
 

Isobel turned to him as soon as Orick was gone, reaching out to give his hand a gentle squeeze.
 

“Jane is a bonny lass, Adwen, but if ye wish to win her, ye will have to do better than that.”

Some part deep inside him rallied against Isobel’s suggestion. He didn’t win the hearts of women; he didn’t wish to. He bedded them and said goodbye. It was the pattern of his life. It was easy and comfortable, and he saw no sense in changing it any time soon.
 

“I doona wish to win her, Isobel.”

“Oh, aye, o’course ye doona. ’Tis why yer shoulders tense every time I say her name and why ye couldna help but smile when I told ye she would be here shortly. Since then, ye have glanced at the door every few moments, watching for her.”

“I doona know how to care for a lass, Isobel. Doona be fooled by my behavior toward ye, I am no verra skilled at treating them kindly.”

Isobel stood from her seat, reaching to gather their plates as she spoke with her back toward him. “If what ye say is true, ’tis only because ye have never met a lass to require it of ye. Until, perhaps, now.”

She sounded just like Orick. Could he really have spent his entire life unintentionally choosing women nearly as foolish as himself? The thought made him uncomfortable and ashamed.
 

 
“Ye sound like Orick, Isobel. Even if I did fancy Jane, ’tis no me that she cares for.”

Isobel faced him, humor dancing in her eyes. “Do ye mean to suggest that she fancies Orick? Doona be a fool, Adwen. Orick is right. She only kissed him to get to ye, and she wouldna have bothered doing that if ye had no stirred something within her. When Gregor and I walked up on the kiss and she pulled away, ’twas no us she looked at first, but ye. She wished to see yer reaction.”

He hoped what she said was right but, in truth, it didn’t matter. He would have scarce opportunity to see her again. By now, Orick would be ready with the horses, and it didn’t look like Jane would be arriving to work on time.
 

“’Tis of no matter, even if ye are right. Cagair Castle is a long distance from here and, once I return home, my travels will come to an end for some time.”

“Ye have traveled a lot then?”
 

Adwen exhaled at Isobel’s question, pleased that Jane was no longer the center of their conversation. He stood to help her clean, and they spoke as they worked together.
 

“Aye. There are few known places in the world that me and my brothers have no visited. We were raised on the road and ’tis where we belong—no in a castle.”

“Ye are no pleased to become laird. I understand why. To be able to see other lands...” Isobel paused and Adwen watched the far-off look in her eyes, allowing her the moment of dreaming. “There is nothing more that I would rather do, but ’tis a wish I shall have to let die with me.”

Adwen’s breath caught in his chest, and he had to blink to keep from tearing up. Orick was right, but it had taken this sick woman to show him just how little he appreciated his own life. She wanted desperately to get a taste of the joys he took for granted.