Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
Logan rode back toward the keep with a dark cloud hanging over his head, both literally and figuratively. After the worst winter storms, he liked to ensure that the most vulnerable of his clan were safe and well, and not long before breakfast, he had belatedly thought of one soul whom he had not yet checked on.
“I cannae imagine livin’ on me own like that,” Theo said, riding alongside his Laird. “It gives me shivers up me spine, thinkin’ that ye could… be stuck like that for days—nay, weeks—and nay one would notice or care.”
Logan glowered at the horizon. “ I should’ve noticed. I should’ve kenned he might be in trouble and gone directly to him. Och, we must’ve ridden past the path to his hut at least twice after helpin’ the folks at the south cliffs.”
But I was distracted by the lass with the purple hair and silky skin .
It was not like him to ever let his duties fall into second place.
“Aye, but ye helped those who needed it most first, and it hasnae been so many days since the storm lifted,” Theo tried to insist. “It’s nae as if he was actually left under the beams for weeks.”
There was an elderly man by the name of Jonah McBray who lived in isolation on the very edge of a lonely promontory, to the south-west of the island. He hated people, hated being bothered, hated having to go to the market on the west side of the island whenever he needed something—hated everything except his little terrier, Weasel.
But Jonah had always tolerated Logan in a way he did not tolerate anyone else. The old man would crack a half-smile when he saw Logan approaching with a gift of milk or some cheese, and they would sit in silence on two rickety chairs outside the hut, saying nothing at all while they broke bread together. A comfortable quiet.
That morning, Logan and Theo had ridden to the hut and found Jonah trapped underneath the heavy central beam that held the roof of his humble abode up. The rest of the roof had collapsed on him, too—weighty mud and straw, mixed in with some stones. He was alive, the terrier curled up protectively at his side, but after at least two nights and days in the biting cold, he had not been well.
“Stubborn old goat,” Logan muttered. “He must ken that he isnae goin’ to survive much longer if he doesnae come to the keep. I wouldnae be surprised if he’s broken a few bones, and he willnae get warm again without proper protection from the weather.”
After lifting the beam off Jonah, Logan had tried to convince the old man to return to Gibson Keep with him, but Jonah would not hear of it. He grabbed a damp blanket, sat down in one of the chairs that had miraculously survived the storm, and sipped shakily from a jar of potent brew, outright refusing to move. Weasel had jumped onto his lap, baring his teeth every time Logan had tried to physically force Jonah to come with them.
Theo shrugged. “Maybe he doesnae want to. I cannae imagine it’s much of a life, bein’ so alone all the time.”
“I wonder if…” Logan shook his head. “Nay, Auld Jonah would be the first to cry ‘witch’ if I did that.”
Theo eyed him. “Did what?”
“Brought Adeline to him,” Logan replied. “Then again, she’s a pretty lass, and Jonah has always been softer toward pretty lasses.”
Theo had not yet accepted that there was no harm in Adeline’s presence, but as they rode on, a curious expression dawned across his face. “It couldnae hurt. If she is a witch, a curse isnae goin’ to cause him more trouble than he’s already in. If she truly is just some healer and she can fix him, maybe… I’ll start believin’ she isnae about to turn me into a toad if I look at her the wrong way.”
“Why the change of heart, eh?” Logan frowned at his man-at-arms.
Theo blushed a little, an odd sight on such a huge man. “It isnae that I distrust yer opinion, m'laird. Ye ken I’ve never distrusted it before. But… it’s yer maither that is startin’ to convince me. I havenae ever heard of a witch bein’ able to bewitch another woman, and yer maither approves of her, so… maybe there’s somethin’ to be said about that.”
Logan did not know whether to laugh or curse at him. “Och, the gall of ye.”
“I dinnae mean any offense. I’m just tryin’ to think of it rationally,” Theo insisted, still pink in the cheeks.
“What if me maither is a witch, eh? What if they’re all in it together—a coven of ‘em?” Logan teased, watching as the color drained from Theo’s face. “Moira, too.”
Theo pursed his lips. “That’s nae funny, m'laird. Ye cannae say such things about a lady like yer maither.”
“Aye, well, imagine how Adeline feels,” Logan pointed out.
Likely mulling over the sentiment, Theo settled into contemplative silence as they rounded the central hills of the island, and the keep came into view. The moment Logan set eyes on the modest castle, his gaze drifting away to the cliffs that concealed the pools, his mind flared with memory.
With the matter of Jonah to contend with, it had been easy to set all thoughts of the night before aside, but now that he needed her help, he had to wonder how he would be received.
She kissed me. It wasnae unwelcome.
He wished Adeline had not stepped away when she had.
He closed his eyes, letting the horse find its way home without guidance, and let his mind savor every detail of the night before. His fingertips could still feel her slick, smooth skin, the warmth of her radiating through the cold sheen of water that made her glisten in the moonlight. His hands remembered perfectly her soft, rounded backside, his chest tingling as he thought of how she had touched him in return, how she had pressed herself against him.
And her lips… so soft and fearless, kissing him in a way he had never been kissed before. With confidence. With passion. With a fierce need that had stoked the same need in him.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” she’d said, yet he had no regrets.
Indeed, his only regret was that it had not continued, and likely never would. She had made her position clear. She had “tested something” by kissing him, and her conclusion was that one kiss was all they would share.
Eating a chunk of bread and cheese to stop his stomach from growling, dropping crumbs on the ground as he went, Logan padded barefoot through the castle toward his study.
It was not yet ten o’clock in the morning, and the cook had informed him that “the guest” had not yet had her breakfast. So, assuming that she was still asleep, he had decided to wait until she awoke before asking her to aid Jonah. He did not know too much about the mysterious morning routines of women, but he knew enough to be wary of asking favors after dragging them out of their slumber.
I have to sweeten her if I want her to help… but I doubt she’ll let me sweeten her the way I’d like to.
He knew that in the quiet of his study, he would be inundated with thoughts of her again. She would not give him a moment’s peace, even from the top of the tower.
Reaching his study, he paused, the bread and cheese pinched between his teeth. The door was partially open, but it should not have been open at all. No one, not even the maids, was allowed in his study without his permission.