Chapter Six
“Hold it there,” Conan said to Seamus as he shifted the heavy shelf into place.
“So where’s Mhàiri?” Seamus grunted.
“Out on a picnic with Loman.”
Seamus leaned back to look at Conan. His eyebrows were arched high, and a slight smile formed on his lips. “Interesting.”
Conan gave Seamus a quick glare and then went back to focus on securing the board in the panel’s groove.
Neither would ever admit they considered each other friends.
Both told others they stomached the other’s company, but in truth Conan respected the quiet soldier, and in the past year a surprising, but strong, bond of friendship had grown between them.
And all because of a woman.
Conan never had been attracted to Maegan, though he could see her appeal when he considered the idea objectively.
But to him, Maegan would always be the skinny spitfire who had chased after his younger brother for years.
He had seen the mutual attachment start to grow between them before Clyde had left.
Clyde, in actions more than words, had claimed the girl as his own and probably this more than anything else kept Conan from truly seeing the soft beauty she had become.
Her bony arms and body had filled out in the last few years, and her large eyes, the color of a clear winter sky, had begun to mesmerize many a soldier in Clyde’s absence. One of them was Seamus.
With Hamish gone and living in the north, Seamus had taken the man’s place next to Finn as Conor’s second in command.
As such, he had been around the castle a lot more than most and routinely crossed paths with Maegan.
And each time they had spoken, the more Seamus had grown to like her.
And soon he had begun to search for ways to be in her company whenever he was not on duty.
Since Maegan was usually watching over Bonny and the little girl preferred to spend time with her uncle, Seamus had found himself in a situation he had never predicted to be in—seeking out Conan’s company.
At first, Conan had thought of Seamus just as another nuisance who clearly was using him to spend time with a woman—something Conan might have respected more if Seamus liked someone other than Maegan.
But when Bonny had mentioned how much the soldier had been helping him while he was there in prepping for his travels, Conan had realized she was right.
After that, he no longer cared about Seamus’s ulterior motives.
Not only did he respect the soldier, but he liked the man.
Conan also hoped that Maegan would realize before it was too late that Clyde was never coming back and that she could do no better than a good man who was inexplicably in love with her.
“What’s so interesting about it?” Conan grumbled as he fought with the board. He knew it fit; the frustrating piece of wood just did not know it yet.
“Only that building all these shelves was a lot of work. One typically does not spend a lot of time on a project when there is no personal benefit. You certainly don’t.”
“I was ordered to do it if you recall. I did not have much of a choice.” Finally, the board slid all the way into the groove. Conan put downward pressure on it, testing its strength. Pleased, he went to grab the next shelf. “Why do you care, anyway?”
“I don’t necessarily, but there are several men I know who are very interested in your relationship with Mhàiri.”
Conan felt his jaw tighten. He should have anticipated something like this.
Fighting men, especially the unmarried ones, bet all the time and on anything.
Mhàiri was something new to wager on. But their relationship?
Making bets on that was senseless when he and Mhàiri did not have one.
“What kind of wagers are you talking about?”
Seamus grunted when Conan began to push against the panel he was holding in an effort to wedge the next shelf into place.
“Just what you would expect. Everyone knows you two are friends and go out each afternoon, so there are wagers on whether you two are going to pair up. But most just bet on when you are going to infuriate Mhàiri to the point that she yells at you like all your other past women. I wonder who won today?”
“She didn’t yell at me today, and if she hasn’t already, I doubt she will.”
Seamus peeked around, and when he caught Conan’s eye, he grinned largely. “I was talking about the bet on Loman being the first to successfully ask Mhàiri out.”
Conan scowled at the hint.
“There will be others.”
“What if there are?” Conan grumbled, frustrated with both the board he was fighting and the revelations Seamus was sharing.
“Why haven’t you tried your charms with Mhàiri? I know it’s been a while since you’ve actually pursued a woman, but I have never seen anyone get a female as quickly as you when you are of the mind to have one.”
“Right now I have more important things to think about. And it’s been a while because I’ve learned that women are the definition of trouble.” Conan heard the popping sound of the second shelf sliding into place. He slapped his hands together. Curiosity forced him to ask, “So which way did you bet?”
“Who says I did?”
“I do.”
Seamus scoffed. “Believe it or not, I bet on you.”
“Bad bet, my friend,” Conan replied, picking up the third and final shelf. Unfortunately, they had two more bookcases to put together.
“Why? Of all the women you have ever encountered—or are likely to encounter—Mhàiri is by far the best suited for someone with your temperament. Her wit, for example. You both have a strange sense of humor, although hers is one others tend to enjoy.” This time it was Conan who peeked around to give Seamus an annoyed look.
“What? People laugh when they’re around her.
Even you on occasion. She likes pictures just like you do and she also wants to see the world.
” Hearing no response from Conan, Seamus added, “And there is the fact that Mhàiri is unquestionably beautiful. I don’t see how even you can resist that combination. ”
“You’re resisting it.”
“That’s because my heart has already been claimed and so will Mhàiri’s be if you do not stop pretending you are not interested in her.”
Conan did not like hearing that other men thought Mhàiri beautiful, but to hear Seamus say it really rankled. And Conan had not realized others thought she was so funny. He put the board in place and gave it a forceful shove. “She’d be happier with someone else.”
“Not in the long run. The woman is really smart. She is a female version of yourself,” Seamus continued, waving his hand at all the books and manuscripts scattered around the room. “I’ve seen her challenge you a few times. And want to know what I saw? You liked it.”
“Are you going to talk nonsense the whole afternoon?” Conan asked as he went to start putting together the second bookcase.
Seamus ignored him. “And what is really crazy is that Mhàiri, after spending hours in your company, doesn’t seem to be repelled by you. Hell, I bet if you try, you could convince her to fall in love with you.”
The pit that had been in Conan’s stomach since he and Mhàiri kissed turned over. Love was not a notion he wanted to entertain. And what they had shared yesterday had been more than simple desire.
Kissing women was an act of lust driven by a basic, primal need to mate.
But kissing Mhàiri had been different. Once their lips met, Conan had craved her in a way that he could not explain.
Such physical desires wane once parted, but with Mhàiri, he did not just want her in his bed, he wanted to be around her.
He actually enjoyed her company. Wanting her physically and emotionally—that was a dangerous combination.
“Your five older brothers seem happy to have found someone and be married. Maybe it’s your turn.”
Conan paused to look at Seamus to see if he was serious.
“What are you really asking? Because it sounds like you are sizing me up for another bet. If that’s true, I’ll save everyone some money.
It is not going to happen. Trust me when I say that Mhàiri is just as much against the idea of being tied down as I am. ”
Seamus shrugged disbelievingly and took the side panel Conan handed him. “I’ll remind you that all your brothers said the same thing until Lady McTiernay got involved.”
“Well, then lucky for me my sister-in-law has sworn never to help a woman ruin her life by attaching herself to me. Laurel discourages them from even talking to me, let alone falling in love and all that other nonsense.”
“Then you really don’t mind that a lot of other men are looking at Mhàiri? Wanting to know if she is available?”
Conan kept his focus on the panel in front of him.
The first shelf was the hardest, for it secured the vertical panels.
Once he was sure his expression was under control, Conan looked at Seamus.
The damn man was smiling again. Seamus never smiled, but all afternoon he had had one plastered on his face.
His grin was really becoming irritating.
“Listen closely,” Conan said through gritted teeth. “I might like to hear Mhàiri laugh as much as the next man. And I won’t deny I enjoy looking at her, but nothing is going to keep me from leaving in the spring. Alone.”
Conan almost added that if other men wanted her, they were welcome to chase her, but he could not compel himself to say the words.
He knew without doubt that come spring, just like him, Mhàiri would be leaving the Highlands happily unwed.
Her reasons were as deeply rooted as his.
And if she wanted to enjoy herself while she was here, he was not going to act like a lovesick puppy and stop it.
* * *