Chapter 6
“It looks like a very beautiful pony,” Ruaridh heard Violet say as he slowly made his way to the dining hall the next morning.
He was not feeling particularly cheery, not when he had had a long, restless night after the exhausting journey and a certain golden-haired lady had haunted his dreams.
Not that the girls cared. Their happiness was palpable, in no way reflective of his somber mood, even though he could guess that his daughter was simply regaling their guest about her night dreams, a habit she had developed in recent times.
Unfortunately, since he was not available early this morning, Violet had to bear the brunt of that habit. Not that she sounded reluctant. She seemed to adore Keira just as much as the girl did her.
“Aye, Da said he would buy one for me when I grow bigger,” Keira’s voice answered excitedly.
Ruaridh groaned inwardly, reminding himself not to make promises to children. His daughter had been telling that tidbit to anyone who cared to listen, and seeing that Violet seemed to be her newest favorite person in the castle, it was obvious she would want her to know.
“That is great,” he heard Violet tell her as he rounded the corner and entered the hall.
Violet was dressed simply today in a lilac dress that he suspected was borrowed from his sister’s older collections, as her breasts strained against the fabric, drawing his eye and taking him back to the heated dreams he had only just escaped.
With great effort, he dragged his eyes to her face. Not that it helped much. She was fresh-faced, probably just out of her bath, because her hair appeared darker where it rested in a long braid down her back.
Unfortunately, the thought of her in a bath brought back the naughty images, because now he was picturing her naked and wet in her bath, her hair loose around her shoulders.
His member stiffened, such that he had even more trouble pulling his mind from the wanton thoughts he wasn’t supposed to be having.
Clearing his throat, he turned to his daughter.
“If ye want to grow bigger,” he said, motioning to the sprigs of green vegetables she had meticulously set aside from her meal, “ye will eat yer vegetables.”
Her face immediately twisted into a frown, and he suppressed a smile.
“Good morning, Miss Violet,” he greeted Violet with a bow, studiously avoiding her eyes so as not to lose his hard-won composure.
“Good morning, my Laird,” she returned with a tilt of her head.
In the next moment, he sat down and attacked his food with gusto, only providing simple answers to his daughter’s many questions. From time to time, his gaze would drift to Violet, where her head was bent over her food, not making any effort to meet his gaze.
In no time, his plate was scraped clean. But before he stood up from the table, he turned to her.
“Miss Violet,” he called, waiting until she looked up at him. “We have to go somewhere. I will be waiting for ye outside. Ask yer maid to attire ye in proper clothes for the outdoors; there is a slight chill in the air.”
With a little bow of his head, he strode off.
Once outside, he stopped and took a deep breath. Violet was temptation. A temptation he now had to live with.
In a few moments, she was back with her crimson wrap that set off the gold in her hair. It definitely looked good on her.
“Here I am, my Laird,” she said with an exaggerated curtsey that brought a reluctant smile to his lips.
He simply led the way towards their destination, matching his pace to hers.
“So, where are we heading to?” she asked
“Ye will see,” he replied.
“You did not give me an idea about where we are going. I would have wanted to be suitably dressed. Not that I have my dresses here, but Ona, my maid, has been a wonder with the dresses she altered for me. They fit like a dream. I am sure she would have been able to find a suitable one.”
Yes, her dresses were a little too well-fitted for his peace of mind, but he could not admit that to her.
“Ye are suitably dressed,” he assured quietly.
“Keira would have loved to come too. She would be alone in the castle.”
“She would be with Grannie Ava.”
“Children need to play outdoors. She could play outside with us.”
“Where we are going isnae suitable for her.”
“Why?”
“Ye will see,” he replied evenly.
“You are very annoying, you know. Why are you answering in short sentences?”
“Ye will get yer answers eventually, daenae worry.”
Violet huffed in frustration.
Ruaridh felt the corners of his lips curve in a smile. She was impatient, and a part of him liked to stoke her fire. She was mesmerizing when she was annoyed.
And surely such thoughts were evidence that he was not in his right mind.
For the next few moments, they walked in silence, her eyes scanning the courtyard while he acknowledged the men sparring with a nod.
Soon, they arrived at their destination and found Logan waiting for them there.
“Good morn, me Laird, Miss Violet,” he greeted, bowing first to Ruaridh and then to Violet with a wide smile.
“Logan,” Violet greeted back with a wide smile. She was probably glad to see a friendly face.
While Ruaridh understood the reason for her warmth towards his man-at-arms, it did not stop his arm from itching to slap the silly smile off Logan’s face.
“Logan,” he said, interrupting the exchange of pleasantries. “Did ye procure what I asked ye to?”
“Aye, me Laird,” Logan replied, gesturing towards the wide doors behind him.
With a nod, Ruaridh pushed the doors open, Violet following behind. Upon spotting him, the stablehands stood up to greet him. Then he went to shake hands with the stablemaster, an older man in his forties.
“I sent Logan to procure a gentle mare for me betrothed,” he said.
“I have already saddled Lady Fortune, me Laird.”
So the horse was named Lady Fortune. Ruaridh just hoped this was a sign the lessons would go well.
“Does yer betrothed also want to see the mare?” the stablemaster asked, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond his shoulder.
Ruaridh turned to see Violet still standing at the door, staring around in shock. He strode back to her.
“What is it, lass?” he asked with concern.
“Ye truly mean to teach me how to ride?” she murmured, doubt evident in her voice.
“It is part of yer list, is it nae?” He frowned, confused.
“Yes, it is,” she replied.
“And I agreed to fulfill it for ye. What is the problem?”
“I just did not think you were serious when ye agreed,” she sighed, avoiding his gaze.
“I am Laird McLeod, and me word is me bond. I daenae care to make promises that I have nay plans to keep.”
What sort of men had she encountered that she was so hesitant to trust anyone?
It was a tragedy that it likely had something to do with her cowardly father and her faithless former betrothed.
Somewhere between her relationship with these two men, she had come to take the promises of men with a grain of salt.
Something that Ruaridh hoped to change if they were to marry. Marriages worked better when the husband and wife functioned as a team and trusted each other implicitly.
In his previous marriage, there had been no love between him and his wife, and while he had cared for her, it was trust that had made their marriage work. It was unfortunate that her trust had been betrayed when she had died while under his protection.
Pushing away the memories, he led Violet towards the mare, a chestnut with wide eyes that slanted at the edge. She was staring blankly as she nibbled on a piece of grass. She was a pretty mare with a gentle disposition, perfect for a beginner like Violet.
“Stroke her mane,” he instructed. “We have to get her accustomed to yer scent.”
Violet complied, her hand trembling. But as the mare snorted quietly at her touch, she grew more confident, feeding her some of the apples Ruaridh produced.
Soon, he decided it was time for her to take the saddle. He helped her onto it and then guided the mare into a trot as they left the stables, but he could see her fear in her tight grip on the reins. It was a testament to the mare’s good nature that she did not throw her head against the pressure.
“So, how is it that a gently bred lady like ye doesnae ken how to ride?” he asked in a bid to distract her.
It seemed to work because her grip loosened, and her gaze turned inward.
“Papa lost the horses at the stables when I was quite young, so I never learned to ride. He promised several times to replace them, but it never happened,” she replied in an even tone that belied her disappointment.
Apparently, not only was the old Baronet a coward, but he was also a fool who had squandered his family’s wealth. The more Ruaridh learned about him, the more he lost respect for him.
“Well, I hope to change that very soon,” he told her.
“I am very grateful,” she replied.
For the next few moments, he let her trot in a circle within the paddock, correcting her posture and the strength of her grip now and then.
“That is all for today,” he said after an hour had passed. “We will continue another day.”
With his help, she dismounted, thanking him again.
“It was very great to ride her. Do you think I can ride her again? I do think we could be best of friends,” she murmured with such longing in her voice.
Ruaridh’s chest tightened. At that moment, he wanted to give her anything she wished for.
Pulling her close with the arm he had around her waist, he cupped her jaw so she was forced to meet his gaze. “I brought the mare for ye. Ye can use it anytime ye want.”
“Thank you,” she said, blushing, before a mischievous smile curved her lips. “Do you think it is wise to give me a horse as a gift? What if I decide to run away?”
His expression darkened, and he pulled her closer, his eyes fixed on her lips. He felt her shiver, and he wondered what she would do if he happened to kiss her. Worse still, he wondered why he desperately wanted to kiss her.
“Ye ken how that would end. I would come after ye, and ye would end up beneath me again, and this time, I wouldnae let ye go,” he said gruffly.
Violet found herself struggling to breathe or think rationally with his spoken threat. Because there was no logical reason why the image of him atop her, as he had been in that cold forest, filled her with warmth and anticipation instead of revulsion.
He leaned forward, and she found herself shutting her eyes, her lips tingling even if he was yet to touch her.
But just when she thought he was going to kiss her and ease the tension between them, he stepped back, and her eyes shot open, wondering why she had been so stupid.
She watched as he turned to walk back to the castle, leaving her standing there at the paddock, trying to gather her wits.
Her father might have taught her how to avoid danger, but he did not teach her how to escape the danger that was Laird McLeod.