Stealing a Kilted Heart (Temptation in Tartan #8)

Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

T his is me chance. I must impress him.

Fia and Bane stood right in front of Laird Stewart’s study, both of them staring at the door, unmoving. Bane’s hand hovered just over the door, ready to knock, but neither of them was certain they were truly prepared. Fia’s heart beat wildly in her chest, and she could see the beads of sweat forming on Bane’s forehead as he, too, began to stress over their first meeting with the laird.

They both knew that everything depended on it. If, for any reason, the laird disliked them, he could easily kick them out of the castle and send them back to Duror, and neither of them wanted to go back there, although for different reasons. In the single day they had spent in the castle, Bane had become too attached to the luxuries this life offered to go back to the village and to their former habits. Fia could understand that. She, too, wanted to stay there, not only so she could prove herself to Callum, but also because life in the castle was simply nicer and easier. They didn’t need to worry about their basic needs being met anymore. They didn’t really need to worry about anything.

“I’ll dae it,” Bane said, but then he still hesitated. It was Fia, in the end, who took the initiative and knocked on the laird’s door, opening it once the man called for them to enter from the other side.

Laird Stewart’s study was, predictably, opulent, like the rest of the castle. Fia’s first intuition that a place like that was bound to have rich tapestries and beautiful paintings and thick carpets had been correct. There was a warmth to every hallway, a lavish and palatial comfort that no house in the village had, not even those of the wealthier residents. Fia hadn’t seen any of the other rooms of the castle, but if they were anything like Laird Stewart’s study, with the intricately carved furniture, the shelves upon shelves of books, and the large, imposing portrait of an older man across from his desk, then they were bound to inspire awe as well.

“Miss MacKenzie, Mr.—”

Laird Stewart was standing to greet them, but when he got to Bane’s name, he paused, looking uncertain.

“Graham,” said Bane and then, almost as an afterthought, bowed. Fia caught a glimpse of him from the corner of her eye and was quick to follow, offering the laird an awkward curtsy. “Me laird.”

“Mr. Graham,” Laird Stewart said, gesturing to them to take a seat on the two carved wooden and leather armchairs that stood before his desk. He waited for them to be seated before he, too, sat back down, steepling his fingers in front of his face as he peered at the two of them. “I wished tae welcome ye tae the castle personally. I hope yer first day here was pleasant.”

“Very much so,” said Bane. “Thank ye, me laird. This is an incredible opportunity fer Fia.”

The laird’s piercing gaze found Fia then, his blue eyes zeroing in on her. For the first time since entering the room, Fia took a moment to examine him and observe as much as she could about him. It was difficult to focus, but she forced herself to breathe, to take her time and, most importantly, to try and appear as normal as possible.

Laird Stewart was a handsome man, there was no doubt about it. His black hair framed a wide, regal forehead, the ends of it curling just past the beginning of his sharp jaw. He had a strong, aquiline nose and eyes that slanted ever so slightly upwards, but the general gentleness of his features was heavily offset by the numerous battle scars on his skin, which covered much of what Fia could see of his body. He would have seemed intimidating to her had it not been for his kind and warm welcome, but to Fia, at least, the scars he sported only served to make him even more alluring, giving him a mysterious edge.

It would make her task much easier. Not only did Laird Stewart have a reputation—which seemed to be true—of being kind, but he was also very handsome, and so Fia was certain she would have no reason to fake her attraction towards him.

Then again, if he was so kind and so handsome, the matter of his celibacy only became more confusing and complicated. Was he truly so peculiar when it came to the women he liked? Did he only like very specific women, and would Fia be able to fit the bill?

Or was there perhaps a different issue, something she had not yet foreseen?

Knox didn’t know what it was he had been expecting when Magnus had told him about Fia MacKenzie, but this was certainly not it. From the moment she stepped into the room, Knox felt as though she had ignited the air around her, like her presence was enough to draw all the oxygen out of the room. He found it difficult to breathe and difficult to talk—two things with which he had never had any trouble at all in the past.

She was a beautiful woman, with long, honey blonde hair that fell in shiny waves down her back, and her eyes, that piercing green that reminded Knox of the deepest forests, held such kindness that he could hardly bring himself to look at her. There was something special about that woman, he knew. There was something that set her apart from anyone else, and all he wanted to do was learn everything there was to know about her.

He only hoped he was hiding it well.

Dragging his gaze to Fia, Knox gave her a small, but warm, smile. He was Laird Stuart, for God’s sake. He could have a conversation with a beautiful woman without losing his head.

“An’ ye, Miss MacKenzie? Did ye speak with Effie?”

“Och aye,” said Fia, her voice trembling just a little. Nervousness, Knox supposed—people were often nervous when they first spoke to him. “We have already established a good rapport, me laird. She is a very kind an’ clever woman.”

“That she is,” said Knox. Then, he proceeded to peer between Fia and Bane, glancing back and forth with a small frown on his face. There was something he wanted to ask, a question that had been gnawing at him from the moment the two of them stepped into the room, but didn’t quite know how to phrase it.

Under any other circumstances, he wouldn’t have asked, but seeing as they carried different last names and Fia had already caught his attention, he simply couldn’t stop himself.

“Dae ye two plan on gettin’ wedded soon?”

The question made Bane choke on air, slamming his fist against his chest as he coughed wildly. Fia, her eyes wide, shook her head frantically at Knox as she reached over and slapped Bane’s back, trying to help him recover.

Knox half-stood from his chair, uncertain of what to do, but Fia waved him off as Bane slowly got himself under control, taking in a deep, shuddering breath. This was not the kind of reaction he thought he would have gotten from either of them, and it only confused him even further. Were they not a couple? Being nothing more than friends sounded unlikely to him. If Knox had a woman like that by his side, he would do his best to have her.

“Forgive me,” said Knox as he sat back down on his seat. “I didnae ken it was such an… awkward topic.”

“Nay, nay,” said Fia waving her hand dismissively with a chuckle. “It is only that Bane an’ I…. well, we’re like siblings. We’re nae bound by blood, but I was taken in by his family when I was younger, so we grew up together. Trust me, me laird, we dinnae have any plans o’ ever bein’ wedded.”

Knox said nothing more on the matter, but he was not entirely convinced. He didn’t want to press either of them—that would be terribly rude of him, after all—but he didn’t really believe that Bane would have never even attempted a relationship between the two of them.

At what age, he wondered, had his family taken Fia in? If they had been young children, then perhaps they had truly grown up like siblings and saw each other as such. But if she had been older, in their teenage years, then he doubted it was so simple.

“I see,” he said. “Well, I simply wanted tae ken that ye were properly welcomed tae our castle. I’m sure ye must be very tired these days, so I willnae hold ye fer any longer.”

Bane stood, giving Knox a bow and heading to the door, but Fia lingered by the desk, glancing at him coyly.

“Me laird, could I have a word with ye?” she asked, and when Knox gestured to her to sit, she did so as Bane took his leave.

“O’ course,” he said. “Is there anythin’ I can dae fer ye, Miss MacKenzie?”

Perching herself on the edge of her seat, Fia leaned closer over the desk with a small, intimate smile. “I only wished tae thank ye fer this opportunity. It means so much tae me that ye have trusted me with such an important position an’ I can assure ye I willnae fail ye or betray that trust.”

For a moment, Knox looked at Fia curiously, eyes narrowing ever so slightly, before he relaxed in his seat and returned her smile. He had thought perhaps she would try to ask for a favor, maybe a larger cottage or more privileges, but receiving her gratitude instead was a pleasant surprise.

“I’m glad tae hear that,” he said. “But ye dinnae have tae thank me. Everyone has vouched fer ye an’ yer skills. We need ye here in the castle.”

“Still,” said Fia with a small shrug. “This is the first time anyone has ever shown me this much confidence an’ trust. I can only thank ye fer that.”

“An’ I can only thank ye fer agreein’ tae take over the position,” he told Fia as he stood from his chair and walked over to a small side table which held several silver pitchers and cups. “May I offer ye some ale tae express me gratitude?”

“Actually, I would prefer whisky, if that is nay trouble” she said.

Whisky! Who could have thought?

Knox had always been partial to whisky, though he had learnt from a young age to offer women wine or ale. He had yet to meet a woman who shared his taste for whisky, and he was now even more impressed by this lass who had suddenly stormed into his life and shaken the very foundations of his everyday life.

“Certainly,” he said, putting the pitcher with the ale back down to get the tumbler with the whisky and pour them both a drink. “I am partial tae whisky as well, but it isnae often that a lass shares me preference in this.”

Fia watched him as he poured it in two cups, and he could have sworn there was a shadow of doubt passing over her face, but he simply assumed she was still a little apprehensive in her unfamiliar surroundings. It was no simple task, leaving one’s home, and castle life was much different from village life.

“Here,” Knox said, handing her the cup. Fia looked at its contents dubiously. Knox held his cup up in a toast in an attempt to reassure her it was a fine drink and Fia mirrored him, holding up hers. “Tae a good an’ long stay in our castle.”

Hesitantly, Fia brought her cup to her lips as Knox took the first sip, savoring it. The moment the drink touched her tongue, it seemed to him that she turned a sickly shade of green.

An uncontrollable coughing fit gripped her, so loud and violent that Knox was certain almost everyone in the keep could hear her. Her cough echoed off the walls of the study and her cheeks turned a bright red, much to Knox’s concern, who once again stood from his seat without knowing what to do. Should he offer her some wine instead? Should he beat her back until she could catch her breath?

It wasn’t until she managed to get her cough under control that he relaxed, sinking back into his seat. For a moment, he only watched her, red-faced and frazzled as she was, and then he couldn’t help it; he laughed.

“Forgive me,” said Knox as a hand came up to clutch at his chest. “I didnae mean tae laugh. Are ye alright?”

Fia joined him, laughing softly, much to his surprise. He had to admit that he enjoyed that. Most of the women he knew, the noble girls who had grown up prim and proper, would have paled at this situation, apologizing profusely for causing a scene, but Fia could see the humor in it.

“I’m alright,” she confirmed. “It’s been… a while. I dae like it, a lot, but I dinnae drink whisky often,” she laughed nervously. “Maybe, I’m out of shape.”

“Perhaps ye should drink ale, then,” said Knox as he reached over and plucked the cup from her hands, soon replacing it with a cup of ale. She took a careful sip, chasing the foul taste of whisky down with it, and after that first sip, she seemed to return to her normal color. “So, how did a young lass like ye learn tae be a healer?”

For a moment, Fia hesitated and Knox could tell there was a story behind it. He gave her the time she needed to speak, busying himself with his cup, until she finally explained.

“Me parents were healers,” she said. “I learned much from them as I was growin’ up. But I was merely a midwife a long time afore I was ever a healer and learned details about the healing arts.”

As she spoke, Knox realized she was embarrassed about this. Her cheeks pinked once more and her voice was low, timid, as though she didn’t want to talk about this at all. He didn’t like the deprecating way in which she described her profession, though. Who could possibly be more valuable to society than someone who healed people and who brought new life to this world?

“Merely?” Knox asked with a frown. “Ye say it as though bein’ a midwife isnae one o’ the most important jobs there are.”

“I mean, most lasses ken how tae dae that,” she said with a small, timid shrug. “Every lass helps with births willingly or unwillingly.”

“Aye, perhaps it is so, but nae everyone is a midwife,” Knox pointed out. “Yer skills are valuable, Fia, an’ I am glad that we have someone like ye in the castle. ”

Knox meant it and he made sure Fia knew that. He valued the people who worked at Castle Stuart.