Chapter 12
Wandering through the peaceful hallways of home, Owen should have felt at ease.
He had been welcomed back by his Clan, and not a moment too soon, for they had been gathering men to ride south in an attempt to discover what had befallen their Laird.
However, glancing at the beautiful young lady who walked at his side, he could not ignore the worry upon her brow. In turn, that worry shivered into him.
“Are ye well?” he asked, taking her arm and weaving it through his. He had seen other gentlemen do it, so he supposed he ought to behave accordingly.
Still, he would have preferred it if they were back in the saddle, where he could relish in the accidental push of her backside against his loins or let his hand absently trail across her thigh or encircle her waist with his arm, using the excuse that he thought she might fall.
Heather jumped, as if she had forgotten he was there. “Pardon? Oh… um… yes, I am quite well. A touch disoriented; that is all.” She paused. “Did you say that Brandon’s chambers would be close to mine?”
“I’ll show ye which one is his when we pass it,” Owen paused.
“Ye’re nae thinkin’ of slippin’ out in the middle of the night to visit him, are ye?
” He intended it as a jest, but a thrum of genuine concern snatched away any amusement in his question.
The pair of them did seem rather close to one another.
Was there more to their relationship than she had imparted?
Heather shot him a disapproving look. “I only do that for you, apparently.”
“Aye, so ye do.” He softened, wondering what on Earth had gotten into him. “It cannae be easy for ye, to be here in Scotland. I ken ye were nae fond of us, nae so long ago. I hope ye’ll find us to be the very opposite of everythin’ ye were taught.”
Heather smiled, but it did not quite reach her pretty eyes. “I hope so, too. I hope that you are everything I have believed you to be.”
“Ye distrust me?” Owen frowned.
“As I have said, I hope you are everything I have believed you to be,” she repeated stiffly.
He could not fathom what had altered in her judgment of him, when they had just spent four days in one another’s accidental embrace.
Although, on his part, it had not been accidental.
He had known what he was doing when he had lifted her up onto the saddle of his horse, instead of allowing her and Brandon to share a horse.
He had seen the opportunity to be close to her, and he had seized it.
“Have I done somethin’ to offend ye?”
She blinked. “No.”
“Are ye scared?” The reception she had gained from his Clan had not been particularly warm, but it had not been frosty, either. They were accustomed to being wary of newcomers, but they would thaw in due time, once they understood that she was a protected guest of their Laird.
Heather licked her lips. “I suppose I must be. I am far away from my own home, I do not know anyone but Brandon, and I do not know how long I shall be here for.” She dipped her head in a nod. “Yes, I am scared.”
“Of me?”
At that moment, they reached the door to her guest chamber. Owen halted her with a gentle grip and swung the door open, hoping it would cheer her spirits somewhat. He had chosen the chamber specifically to please her, knowing she would likely feel out of place for a time.
“What are you doing?” she said, with a gulp.
He smiled. “This is yer bedchamber, Lass.”
He ushered her into the room, trying not to feel affronted by the resistant tug of her arm. Did she really think he was a danger to her? Perhaps, no matter what he did, he would never be able to change the mind of someone from England.
Suddenly, Heather’s arm slackened in his grip. A soft gasp escaped her throat, prompting him to turn. Did she like it? Did she hate it? Her expression calmed him, for her mouth had fallen open in awe and her eyes were wide and shining brightly as she took in her surroundings.
“This is… mine?” Her hand flew to her mouth.
Owen nodded. “Aye, Lass. I thought ye’d like it.”
The chamber was situated inside the entirety of the southernmost turret of the castle, where it caught the best of the day’s sunlight and offered a wondrous view over the loch.
It also possessed a fine personal library, a writing desk, a vast bed with a feather-stuffed mattress, and a large, elegantly carved fireplace that kept the room warm, despite its high ceiling.
Meanwhile, brightly colored decorations hung down from the rafters overhead: embroidered flags, bunches of dried flowers, clusters of feathers and whittled wooden creatures, and flowing tassels of shimmering ribbon.
“Me maither added all of this, a long time ago. I cannae remember when.” He gestured around at the decorations and the fine furnishings, that included a jacquard chaise lounge and the most comfortable armchair he had ever had the pleasure of sitting in.
The floor was also covered in rugs and furs, so no draft could escape up through the boards.
Heather whirled around to face him. “This is… wonderful, Owen. I… have no words.”
“Aye, well I do.” He closed the gap between them, taking gentle hold of her chin.
“If ye’re afraid that I’ve brought ye here with ill intentions, then ye must nae think that of me.
I’m what ye believe me to be, if ye believe me to be a good and honest man.
Yer faither enraged me, aye, but that’s nae yer fault.
I am nae the sort of Laird who feeds on revenge.
I daenae want that. I just want justice for the man that I couldn’ae save, when I’d spent days savin’ so many. ”
The gleam he had longed to see came back to her eyes. “I am sorry.”
“Ye daenae have to be. Ye have nae done anythin’ wrong,” he assured.
In truth, she was the only “right” thing in his world.
Upon the horse, it had felt right to hold her in his arms, and it felt right to be there in her chamber.
One glance toward the bed, and his loins stirred with hope.
He would have given anything to hoist her up into his arms and carry her to that bed, to make love to her.
I would hear ye cry out me name, Lass. I would hear the sounds of yer pleasure.
His free hand clenched, to stop it from acting under the pressure of his longing.
Since meeting her, he had wanted to caress her divine figure and taste her smooth, soft skin.
He longed to ignite passion inside her with the stroke of his tongue and the push of his fingers, readying her for a union that he knew would be unlike any other.
Oblivious to his inner struggle, Heather sighed.
“I am sorry that my father stole you away and treated you so terribly, when all you wanted to do was come home after you had been away at war for so long,” she said.
“I can better understand your eagerness to return, now that I have seen the beautiful place where you live.”
He laughed softly, noting the heaving rise and fall of her bosom. “It wouldn’ae matter if it was a hovel. I’d still want to go home.” His teeth grazed his lower lip, nipping a little to try and quell his rising ardor.
“How long were you away?” Heather’s hands wrapped around his wrist, though he could not tell if it was him that she did not trust, or herself. The shallowness of her breath and the erratic swell of her bosom suggested the latter, as did the eager shine in her beautiful eyes.
I cannae be impatient. She’s nae of me world.
Indeed, he had been raised to understand that, if a woman and a man liked one another, there was little shame in enjoying each other.
Yet, he could not forget that she had been raised in a place where even grazing a man’s hand could destroy a woman’s reputation forever.
He shook his head, swallowing his frustration. “I will tell ye all of the tedious details another day. Now that ye’re here, we have plenty of time to get to learn one another better. Ye must be weary.” His gaze flitted down to her lips. “I’ll have that bath drawn for ye. But first—”
He kissed her: his hands moving to cup her face as his lips pressed against hers.
Soft to begin, not knowing how she would respond, but hoping she would.
He caught her mouth again, guiding her with the push of his lower lip.
It was the kiss he had wanted to feel since the moment he saw her in the dungeons.
Forgive me this one lapse in patience. He hoped she would, for if she could have seen within his mind, she would have known how much strength it was taking him to kiss her with such restraint.
In his imagination, they were kissing in a desperate frenzy, tearing away their clothes until they were naked before one another, and he was laying her down upon the bed to plunge inside her and satisfy them both.
Ye daenae ken what ye inspire within me, Lass.
He wanted to pleasure her until she screamed his name.
He wanted to touch her, taste her, kiss her, without leaving a single speck of her body unattended.
But this one kiss would have to do, for now.
Indeed, he did not know if it might be the only one they shared, if Heather decided to slap him or berate him.
At last, he felt a faint motion in her mouth.
Tentative and unsure, but she was not pounding his chest with her fists or pushing him away.
Indeed, it was the sensation of a lightly returned kiss, performed by lips that had never kissed before.
It was a sign that there might be more to come, but he did not want to push her too quickly, no matter what his body wanted.
Breaking away, he planted one last, smaller kiss upon her forehead. “I didnae mean to steal that from ye, Lass,” he murmured, “but I’ve been enchanted by yer beauty since the first moment I set eyes on ye. Even when ye were ragin’ at me, I kent ye were somethin’ precious.”
“I d… do not understand,” she replied, breathless. A delicate pink tinted her cheeks.
He smiled. “Ye can call me wretched for askin’, but as ye’re to stay here awhile, I wouldn’ae want to lie to ye.
I desire to court ye, Lass.” He hesitated, remembering her situation.
“Of course, I ken ye’re still grievin’ and ye’re likely in nay mind for such a thing.
So, I understand if ye cannae or ye daenae want to. I just wanted to be honest with—”
Her lips on his mouth rendered him silent. It proved a nervous, awkward sort of kiss, but it brought a smile to Owen’s lips regardless. There could be no clearer sign that she was contemplating his request.
“I cannot agree or refuse, at present,” she told him, pulling back.
“I would know you better. I would spend time with you, as we have been doing. If that is courtship, then you may think of it as such, but… I do not know if it will be too overwhelming. My heart might not have room, for it is in pieces.”
He nodded. “Aye, Lass, we’ll take it slowly.”
“If I may, can I make one request of you?” Her teeth grazed her lower lip, drawing his eye to their plump, tempting shape. If she granted him, one day, he would kiss those lips until they were swollen with his passion.
“Of course,” he said, drawing his gaze back up to her eyes. They were safer than her tantalizing mouth and everything below.
She cleared her throat. “If you wish to kiss me again, I would have you ask me first. It is improper to startle a lady like that. Indeed, you frightened my mouth, making it freeze.” A glimmer of mischief shone in her eyes. “How, pray tell, am I to kiss you back if my lips are numb with shock?”
“Then, might I kiss you again?” He took his chance.
She shook her head. “Not tonight. I would not offer you false hope. Moreover, I am a filthy disgrace and in dire need of that bath that was promised.”
Her coy smile suggested she very much wanted another kiss, but would not give him too much, too quickly. He would respect that, for as long as she needed him to.
“If ye’ll pardon me for sayin’ it, I’ll have pleasant dreams of ye in that bath.”
She blinked in surprise. “Now, that is not slow behavior.”
“Aye, but I want ye to ken that I’ll never lie to ye, even if it’s an embarrassment to me,” he explained. “Ye can trust me, Lass. I will nae cause ye hurt or harm.”
Her expression softened into a warm smile. “I believe you.”
“Can I hold ye for a moment, before I fetch the maids?” Having held her in his arms for the last four days, they felt absent without her.
Instead of answering, she stepped closer and let her palms rest on his chest for a moment, feeling the beat of his heart.
As her smile widened, she stroked her hands up over his shoulders, looping her arms around his neck.
He noticed it meant she had to stand on tiptoe, but she did not seem to mind.
Slipping his arms around her waist, he pulled her flush to him, bending slightly so she would not have to keep standing on tiptoe.
He buried his face in the curve of her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her.
No one would have suspected that she had been riding for four days, no matter what she said.
“Thank you,” she whispered into his shoulder: her lips pressing the daintiest kiss there, to punctuate her gratitude.
He held her tighter. “It’s me who should be thankin’ ye. I would be dead by now, if it wasnae for ye.”
“And I would be heartbroken twice over,” she confessed, “but it is over now. You are safe and I am safe here, with you. I will remedy the situation with my father and Brandon will discover the true culprit, and all will be well. Or, as well as it can be.”
In that moment, he was glad that she could not see his face. Her naivety charmed him, in many ways, but it was also her weakness. He could tell, in her voice, that she truly thought everything would be all right, simply because she wanted it to be.
Yer faither will come for ye, Lass. He will nae accept me, even if the culprit is found. He sighed against her skin, relishing the sensation of her in his arms again. Sooner or later, ye may find ye have a choice to make.
As for Brandon, Owen did not yet know if that man could be trusted. If he was truly an ally, it was not going to be easy for Brandon to find the real killer. If Brandon was working for the Earl, then Owen was going to have to keep a close eye on the fox in the henhouse.