Chapter Five #3
On their second outing, Bonny, Brenna, and Maegan had tagged along and the following day the weather had not cooperated.
Yesterday had started similarly to their first. Mhàiri had shown him a couple of tricks about how to mentally measure each component before trying to capture it on the cloth.
Conan had had every intention on practicing them per her instruction, but he had also intended to take a break at some point and pursue other, more physically pleasurable things.
The one thing critical to his plan, however, was the one thing he did not have—Mhàiri’s presence.
Right after she had given her advice, she had instructed him to continue practicing. Then she had risen to her feet, dusted off her gown, grabbed her bag, and begun to head back to the castle.
Conan had jumped up and chased after her. “You are just leaving me here? Alone?”
Amusement had filled Mhàiri’s green eyes as she reached out and squeezed his bicep. “You seem capable enough to handle anything scary that might come along.”
Conan had swallowed. Mhàiri had only briefly touched him, and the lower part of his body had gone hard.
Any movement to hide the fact would have only shifted her gaze downward.
He should have said good-bye and let her leave, but he had already appeared desperate.
And yet, when he had opened his mouth to tell her to be careful, what had actually come out was, “How will I know if I did it right and if I am ready for the next lesson?”
“You can show me tomorrow.”
“But I have to wash the cloths at night.”
“So, you can draw something for me tomorrow.”
“How about tonight?” Conan had pressed, acting completely unlike himself. And yet, part of him had not cared. It had been nearly a week since he had ended his ill-conceived plan to ignore her, and other than their first outing, he had yet to spend any quality time alone with her—and only her.
Mhàiri had sighed and given him a long look. “How about after dinner?” she had suggested. “In the great hall?”
Conan had nodded and waited for her to turn and leave before returning to the blanket and his sketches.
All that afternoon, throughout the entire meal, and right up until the doors opened, he had looked forward to their meeting.
He had planned not only to show her the drawings, but what they could have been doing if she had not left their lesson early.
Then again, there were several benefits of meeting at night in the great hall—no wind, unexpected passersby, or setting sun forcing an inconvenient end to their time together.
The night should have ended only after Mhàiri had thoroughly and repeatedly been kissed. But when it was finally time for them to meet in the great hall, nothing had gone according to plan.
He had arrived first and his heart had started to pound hearing Mhàiri enter and seeing her wear a huge, welcoming smile.
He returned her smile but only briefly for tailing right behind her had been Bonny and Brenna.
Upon seeing him, both screeched and ran forward, jabbering about wanting to see what their uncle Conan was learning to do.
Conan could not remember a time either of his nieces had been so chatty or critical.
They had pointed out all the flaws in his sketches and what they thought he needed to practice more.
Then they’d asked Mhàiri question after question about her drawings.
Bonny, who had never been interested in art or maps before, had constantly poked him, telling him to pay attention, which he had pointedly refused to do.
Instead, he had sat there, stretched out, moping as he downed several mugs of ale.
He had not cared that he was being rude and immature.
He had not cared about Bonny or Brenna either.
It had not been until this morning, when he had awoken to a huge headache and the memories of his boorish behavior, that he’d had a few pangs of regret that resulted in an illuminating conclusion.
He needed to end his pointless pursuit of kissing Mhàiri.
If it happened, it happened, but the effort of trying to make it happen was—if possible—driving him even more insane.
Conan had missed the morning meal and had persuaded Fiona to let him take some food to his room.
He had remained there through the noon meal so he had yet to see anyone.
He had no idea of just how mad Mhàiri was.
Any other woman, Conan would not have had to wonder.
He would already know. She would have reamed him out that night before retiring, and most likely he would have woken up to something just as bitter being shouted from the bailey.
But that was not Mhàiri’s style. All he could remember was her whispering to the girls that the next time they all decided to meet with Uncle Conan, they should warn him first. That they were lucky he had stayed with them and had not left, especially when he was not having any fun.
Had she meant it? Or had Mhàiri only offered the words to comfort his two nieces?
Conan spotted Mhàiri approaching and stopped his pacing. He shielded his eyes from the bright overhead sun and tried to detect her mood from her expression, but he could not tell anything other than she was not smiling.
He swallowed. “You angry about last night?”
Mhàiri tilted her head slightly and looked at him quizzically. “I thought you were mad at me,” she said, fanning herself with her hand. “Laurel insisted Brenna and Bonny come with me, and I know you don’t like surprises.”
She was right. He didn’t. And Laurel knew it as well.
He had wondered what his sister-in-law’s reaction would be if she suspected his desire for Mhàiri.
Now he had his answer. Unlike with his brothers, Laurel was not going to ease his path toward true love.
Which was good, because he did not want true love or any of the burdens that came with it.
He only wanted a kiss. Laurel must have realized it, and unfortunately, she saw kissing him as a woman’s first step to heartache.
“I was still kind of a thòin last night.”
“You were.” Mhàiri laughed at the memory. “That was why annoying you was so much fun. You only got grumpier. We took score at who could get you to growl the loudest.”
Conan pursed his lips. Once again, Mhàiri was discombobulating him to the point where he lacked for words. “Who won?” he finally asked.
Mhàiri bit her lower lip in an effort to hide her smile. “We promised each other not to tell.” She then fanned herself again. “It is strangely hot for this time of year. If it continues, we may need to meet after first meal before the sun is blazing overhead.”
Conan shook his head. “I can’t then. I train in the mornings.”
“Do you have to train then? Couldn’t you, um, take a break for a few weeks?”
Conan flexed the muscle in his arm that she had touched the prior day. “If I didn’t, I would be a twig like Maegan. And wielding a sword is a skill that must be regularly practiced to be maintained.”
“Then what are you going to do when you leave in the spring? The image of you waving a sword around in the air each morning is not very flattering.”
Conan chortled at the idea. “There will be plenty of opportunities for me to keep up my skills. It’s not like I’m going to be sleeping outside under the stars all the time.
I’m traveling and mapping the land at the request of King Robert.
So, most nights, I will be staying as guest to a laird, much like you are to my brother.
While I’m there, I’ll train with their men as I can.
Once I’m done, I’ll move to the next clan and map their lands. ”
Mhàiri stared at him for several seconds in disbelief.
She knew that Conan thought when they left in the spring and went their separate ways that his travels were going to be far more severe and uncomfortable.
He had intimated as much several times. And she had believed him, thinking him hunting each night for his food, sleeping on the ground with only a blanket to shield him from the cold or the rain. Now she just wanted to laugh.
Aye, Conan was going to have to forage for his food periodically.
But from what he described, most nights he would be served a delicious meal that consisted of a wide variety of foods.
Merchants rarely experienced such luxuries, even wealthy ones like her father.
Unlike her, Conan was going to be nestled on a mattress in a cozy bed with a large hearth fire to warm him.
Her blanket-cushioned bed was going to be inside their wagon and was going to be put together and dismantled each night.
If their two futures were reversed, Conan would have a much harder time surviving hers. An opinion she decided was best kept to herself. Still, she could not help but say, “Based on last night and today, you have a lot of work to do on perspective. Yours is definitely skewed.”
Conan looked down at the canvas in his hands and realized it was blank from being cleaned. He sighed heavily. He had thought he had been improving.
“You can practice trees and mountains later,” Mhàiri said, gesturing for him to bring everything and follow her. “Today we are going to learn how to draw an object that is both near and far.”
Mhàiri started walking, coming to a stop about half way down a sloping hill. She pointed to a thick rock wall that was about waist high. She sat down and said, “Try drawing the rock wall.”