Rowan's Lady (35 page)

Lily chattered on about Red John’s pups and begged
Rowan to allow her to go to the stables today to check on them. It mattered not
to Lily that Red John had reassured her that the pups were fine, she insisted
on seeing them for herself.

They made their way to the gathering room and took
their seats at the high table. Rowan took note that Arline was unusually quiet
and, like him, ate very little.

“I’m ready to play in the snow,” Lily informed
them both as she took the last bite of her eggs.

Arline smiled down at the excited child and patted
the top of her head. “Why don’t ye go and find yer friends, Lily? I’ll go above
stairs and grab our cloaks and scarves.”

Lily scrambled happily from her seat in search of
her friends. Arline stood to leave without saying a word to Rowan.

“Lady Arline, I’ll escort ye above stairs,” he
offered.

Arline remained mute, gave a slight nod of
acquiescence and took his offered arm.

“How is yer head this morn?” he asked as they made
their way to the stairs.

She very nearly slipped and asked what head ache
when she remembered that had been her excuse to remain hidden in her rooms. “It
lingers,” she lied, just in case she might need to use that excuse again.

A look of genuine concern came to Rowan’s face. It
made her feel all the more guilty for lying to him. But how could she tell him
the truth? That every moment for her was both a delight and an agony? That his
image was pervasive, always there, in her dreams, in her waking moments?

Nay, she could not tell him those things knowing
full well that she vexed him to the point of frustration. She had seen it in
his eyes the previous morn and he had even admitted to the same.

“I am certain the fresh air will help. Ye needn’t
worry,” she said as they climbed the winding staircase to the second floor. She
glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

“And ye, Rowan? How are yer wounds?”

Rowan shrugged his shoulders. He knew she spoke of
the scrapes and scratches on his chest and not his wounded soul. “I’d hardly
call them wounds. Just a few scratches.”

Not a word was said between them again as they
walked side by side in the quiet hallways. Lost in their own thoughts, there
were a thousand things their hearts wanted to say but neither of them possessed
the courage to say them.

Rowan lifted the latch on the door to Arline’s
room and pushed it open. He held it open as she glided through. To help stave
off any temptation to either speak his heart or act on his feelings, he left
the door open and waited patiently just inside the doorway.

Arline quietly slipped into the small dressing
room. Once inside, she leaned against the wall and took slow steady breaths. It
was becoming increasingly difficult to be anywhere near the man without her
legs turning to mush, her mouth going dry, her palms sweating or having the
urge to throw herself at him!

It was quite apparent that her body would not
listen to reason. It ignored the fact that he was irritated with her. It ignored
the fact that he had not shown one tiny drop of interest in her other than as
his daughter’s governess.

Nay, her body continued to betray her heart and
her good sense! What on earth was she to do? One of these days she would slip
up and say something stupid, something along the lines of
Please, take me!
Kiss me! Hold me!
She would die from the mortification, embarrassment and
humiliation of it.

And if her tongue didn’t get her into trouble, her
body would. Only moments ago, as they passed through the doorway, she had an
overwhelming urge to push him onto her bed and tear his tunic off with her
teeth. The only thing that saved her from doing just that was the image of him
laughing at her immature attempts at seduction.

She was tempted to disregard donning woolens,
boots, and cloak in favor of rolling around in the frozen snow in hopes of
catching her death. Death seemed to be the only solution to the tormented
thoughts and feelings she had toward Rowan.

As Arline mulled over the temptation of suicide by
freezing to death, Lily came rushing into Arline’s bedchamber. Arline
recognized the little girl’s squeals as nothing more than excitement. She let
out a frustrated sigh before stepping out of the dressing room.

“Lady Arline! Lady Arline!” Lily exclaimed as she
raced into Arline’s arms.

“Wheesht, Lily!” Arline said as she patted the
excited child on the back. “Do we scream like that when we are in doors?”

Lily blew loose tendrils of hair out of her eyes.
“Only if we be under attack or the keep is on fire,” Lily replied quickly.

Lily had paid no attention to her father until he
chuckled at her quick response. “Ye need to leave, Da. I have womanly stuff to
talk to Lady Arline about.”

Rowan had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep
from bursting out with laughter. Instead, he chose the most serious expression
he could manage, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall.
“Womanly stuff, ye say?” He glanced at Arline and could see that she too was
trying not to laugh at his excited little girl. Rowan resisted asking what kind
of
womanly
things a four-year-old would need to discuss with her
governess and why it should warrant secrecy.

Lily nodded her head and brushed the irritating
curls from her forehead. “Aye. ’Tis about kissin’ and we dunna talk about
kissin’ in front of men.”

Rowan watched Arline’s face burn with a blend of
surprise and embarrassment. His fatherly instincts took control of his good
senses. “Kissin’?” Why would his four-year-old daughter need to discuss such a
topic?

Arline rolled her eyes and turned Lily around to
look at her. “Lily, we do no’ discuss things like that with other men,” Arline
tried to explain.

Lily looked confused. “Other men? What kind of men
are there?” she asked innocently.

That particular question could have taken hours to
answer, hours that Arline was not quite ready to spend. “Never mind. Ye can
talk in front of yer da, child. Go ahead, what is it ye want to say?”

Lily hesitated a moment before she spoke. “I hit
Robert,” she said solemnly. “He kissed me!”

Monumental efforts not to laugh out loud were made
by both adults in the room. Lily waited quietly, not at all certain if she were
going to be in trouble for hitting her friend.

Rowan cleared his throat as he came to kneel
before his daughter. “Robert kissed ye?” he asked, feigning insult. “I should
slay the impudent and brazen lad!”

Lily’s eyes grew wide with horror. “Nay, da! Ye
canna do that!”

Rowan tilted his head, looking quite serious. “I
canna slay the young man that stole a kiss from me daughter? Pray tell, why
no’?”

“Because I like him!” Lily answered as if her
father were mayhap one of the most daft individuals to ever grace the earth.
She rolled her eyes and turned back to Arline. “I kent he wouldna understand.”

“If ye like him, then why’d ye hit him when he
kissed ye?” Rowan asked, puzzled by his four-year-old daughter’s behavior.

Another eye roll nearly sent Rowan fleeing from
the room to look for a quiet place in which to die from laughter. Knowing she’d
never trust him again if he laughed at her, he willed his face to retain the
frown he had painted there. He was too old and his daughter far too young for
conversations such as these.

Arline decided mayhap now was the time to explain.
“Don’t ye see? She
likes
the young Robert.”

Now it made perfectly good sense. If one were a
four-year-old girl. Or a full-grown female. As a man, he couldn’t wrap his head
around the logic. His ignorance must have been plainly evidenced by the
bewildered expression on his face, for Arline gave a roll of her own eyes. That
explained where Lily had picked up the habit.

“She likes the lad, Rowan. Lily and I have
discussed this recent realization on her part. She’s far too young fer kisses
and Robert is an older lad, at six, ye ken. And she doesna want the lads to
think they can steal kisses whenever they wish.”

That
he understood completely. While Rowan
taught his daughter how to protect herself and the keep from enemy invasions,
Arline was teaching her how to protect herself from something far worse than
invaders from the north, the Huns, or even the English. She was teaching Lily
to protect herself from the opposite sex.

“That’s right,” Lily interjected. “They must ask
ye first, fer permission and he has to understand that if I say no and he still
tries to kiss me, I get to hit him.”

Were his daughter a few years older, this current
conversation would be far less adorable. Arline could never leave him. He
needed her to have these uncomfortable conversation with his daughter. His
advice would have been far less eloquent and more a long the lines of warning
Lily that he’d kill any lad that tried to steal even the most innocent of
kisses. He would have to permanently erase from his mind the memories of being
a young lad if he were to survive his daughter growing older.

Arline stood and gave a nod of approval to Lily.
“Now run and get yer cloak and things and wait fer me below stairs. I’ll be
along shortly.”

Lily smiled and left the room in a hurry, leaving
her bewildered father and proud governess behind.

Rowan watched his daughter leave the room before
turning to face Arline. “Me daughter’s first kiss,” he said with a smile. “I
dunnae if I should be proud of how well she handled herself or worried that the
kisses are startin’ so young.”

Arline returned his smile, feeling much the same
way as he did. “I think both feelin’s are appropriate.”

Rowan chuckled slightly and ran a hand across his
face. “She’s a wee young, don’ ye think? Fer kisses?”

“I’m sure it was an innocent kiss, Rowan. I do no’
think young Robert will be askin’ fer her hand any time soon.” Her heart melted
over Rowan’s concern for his daughter.

“I remember me first kiss,” he said with a smile.
“I was a bit older, ye ken. I was nine and she was eight. Her name was Ella
McElroy.” Arline could see the memory was a fond one for his smile said more
than words could. There was a devilish twinkle in his eyes as he spoke of it.

“I told her I had somethin’ to show her, hidden
behind the stables. It had taken me a week to work up the courage to kiss her.
Och! ’Twas an innocent kiss, to be certain. I pecked her lips and then ran like
the devil was chasin’ me!”

Arline could not resist laughing at the image he
painted. She almost asked if he still ran after stealing kisses from
unsuspecting young women, but thought better of it.

“When was yers?” he asked innocently.

“When was my what?” she answered, uncertain as to
what he meant.

“Yer first kiss?”

She froze for a very long moment, her smile
leaving rapidly. This was very uncomfortable and humiliating territory. Looking
away, she answered in short, clipped words. “I’m sure I do no’ remember.”

Not knowing her circumstances or much of her life,
he neither believed her nor realized it was an uncomfortable topic. “Och!
Everyone remembers their first kiss, lass!”

She ignored him, left him standing in the middle
of her bedchamber as she returned to her dressing room. Her face was hot,
burning with mortification and she did not want to explain anything to him.

Rowan came to stand in the doorway between her
sleeping chamber and dressing room. “Lass, there be nothin’ to be embarrassed
over. Not everyone’s first kiss was as romantic as mine.” He was smiling,
trying his best to add some levity to the moment. He hadn’t meant to embarrass
her, but his curiosity had been piqued.

She was a woman full grown, married twice, and yet
she had blushed like a young maiden when he asked the question. Lady Arline was
a bold, brave woman, yet this topic seemed to unsettle her.

Arline stood with her back to him, pretending to
sort through her trunk in search of something. Her chest hurt, her eyes stung
as an empty feeling draped over her.

Rowan began to wonder why she refused to discuss
something as simple as a first kiss. He studied her closely, saw her shoulders
fall as if weighted down by some unseen force. Although he could not see her
face, he sensed she was despondent, but why?

Mayhap her first kiss was not a kind one? Mayhap
it had been a horrible experience, one that had scarred her, left her feeling
sad and ashamed. Suddenly he felt like an oaf, an uncaring idiot for having
pushed the subject and causing her pain. “Arline,” he said softly. “I be
terribly sorry if I hurt yer feelin’s. I didna realize that mayhap yer first
kiss is not one ye wish to remember. I be sorry, lass.”

She could have left it alone then, let him believe
whatever he wished. But the pity in his voice irritated her, like sand caught
between her toes. It ground and aggravated and sent her over the edge of
reason.

Arline spun around to look at him. “Me first kiss?
Do ye truly want to ken the truth, Rowan?”

He started to speak, but was at a loss. Her eyes
burned with more than anger. They were filled with hurt, pain, and something he
could not quite identify. He decided it best to remain silent for now.

“The truth of the matter is this Rowan. Standing
before ye is a woman full-grown, a woman of almost five and twenty and she’s
never
been kissed.” She threw the words at him like rocks, for the sole purpose
of hurting him, even though in truth, the last thing she ever wanted to do was
hurt him. But threw them she did for she was tired of being alone with her pain
and sorrow and longing.

He looked at her as though she had just sprouted
an extra set of arms. “But ye’ve been married, lass! Twice! How can ye be
married twice and no’ be kissed?” He couldn’t imagine being married to her and
not kissing her at least a hundred times a day.