Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Perhaps I should leave now.
Aaron hesitated at the thought.
But when a frown creased Edith’s face, he stepped closer instead, closing the distance between them.
“Ye shouldnae startle so easily,” he said.
Edith huffed. “Ye’re fond of telling me what I shouldnae do, me Laird,” she said, the sarcasm evident in her tone. “Perhaps ye should try a different approach. It doesnae work.”
Impossible lass.
Aaron’s brows drew together, wondering how his sister could consider a woman like Edith to be gentle and kind.
Perhaps it’s because they are so alike.
“What are ye doin’ here?” Edith asked, resuming her walk toward the courtyard.
Aaron swallowed. He had been heading to his chamber when her maid came up to him, nearly in tears as she explained that she could not find her anywhere in the keep.
The matter had sounded so urgent that he hurried outside to look for her at once, searching nearly every corner of the estate before finding her. Alas, she was laughing with herself.
“Inspecting me lands,” he lied through his teeth as he fell into step beside her.
Edith shot him a look that clearly said she did not believe him. “Ye werenae following me, were ye?”
Aaron scoffed. “Why would I follow ye?”
“I daenae ken,” she said. “Perhaps to read me letter.” She paused, looking up at him. “Or have ye read it first before showing it to me?”
Aaron almost rolled his eyes. He looked ahead as they continued across the darkened grounds, the grass crunching softly beneath his boots. “If I wished to read Scarlett’s letters, I would simply read the one she wrote to me.”
Edith perked up. “She wrote to ye?”
“Aye, she did.”
“I didnae think she would have words for ye,” Edith said, her tone slightly too confident for his comfort. “What did she say?”
Aaron let out a breath. “She was very clear. I am nae to touch ye before she arrives.”
Edith laughed softly. “That sounds like Scarlett.”
“Aye,” Aaron said. “It does.”
He could practically imagine his younger sister glaring at him as she said those words to his face.
The letter she wrote to him had only contained three paragraphs. The first was a greeting from her and her husband, and the second was a long description of the things she would do to him if Edith were to come to any grief beneath his roof.
Scarlett had always possessed a remarkable talent for issuing threats while sounding perfectly pleasant, and the thought of it almost made him smile.
Almost.
Edith released a slow breath. “Did she say anything else?”
He thought back to the third paragraph, which had been half a page of remarkably specific instructions regarding Edith’s welfare and comfort.
“Nothing of consequence,” he replied.
Edith gave him a look that suggested she did not believe him.
She was right not to.
“She is happy,” he added after a moment. The words came out quieter than he had intended, carrying more weight than a simple report of his sister’s welfare had any business carrying.
“Good,” Edith said, her voice soft. “That is all I needed to ken.”
Aaron looked ahead.
Edith fell quiet beside him. The levity that had softened her face moments ago had faded, replaced by something slightly heavier.
“I cannae wait to see her,” she murmured, and he glanced toward her. “There is so much I wish to tell her.”
Aaron did not respond. Something about the way she said the words had caused his jaw to tighten.
They continued the rest of the journey in silence, walking through the kitchen entrance at the back.
Aaron greeted a few of the elderly clansfolk as they passed through the corridors and climbed the short, narrow stairs that led to the east wing.
Finally, they entered the quiet east wing and stopped outside Edith’s bedchamber.
Edith turned to face him. They stood in silence for what seemed like a full minute, Aaron’s gaze lingering on her for longer than it should have.
“Very well then,” she said, breaking the spell. “I would like to go in now.”
She still had the letter pressed against her chest.
“Wait, Edith,” Aaron said, reaching into his coat pocket. “Scarlett sent something else along with the letter.”
Her eyes dropped to his hand as he held out Scarlett’s medallion, its silver chain pooling in his palm. It was small, with a simple gemstone pendant on a silver disc, worn smooth at the edges from years of handling. Scarlett had worn it since she was a child.
Edith’s breath caught.
“Are ye certain?” she asked.
Aaron nodded. “Aye.” His voice came out quieter than he had intended. “She wants ye to wear it to keep ye safe.”
Edith’s eyes lifted to his, and he grimaced slightly at the sentiment. The necklace had belonged to their mother before she passed away, and Scarlett had always believed it possessed powers beyond the ordinary.
“Safe from ye, I presume?” she asked, her voice carrying the slightest hint of mischief.
It was refreshing to see that she did not share in his sister’s belief in the superstition.
“Turn around,” he instructed.
Edith obeyed without question. She moved her hair out of the way as he lifted the chain carefully, his fingers brushing the back of her neck as he fastened the clasp.
The cool metal grazed her skin before settling against her collarbone, and he felt her breath catch at the contact.
He moved to adjust the chain, but his fingers moved slower than the task required, lightly tracing her neck and then lower to the hollow at the base of her throat, where her pulse beat quick and steady.
He was barely touching her, and yet she stilled completely, her breathing going shallow as her neck tilted slightly to the side.
He leaned in without thinking. His lips brushed the curve of her neck where his fingers had been, and her lips parted, a soft moan escaping her before she could stop it.
The sound of it undid something inside him.
He pressed his lips to her neck again, slower this time. Her hand came up instinctively, her fingers curling around his forearm as though she could not let him go.
Aaron felt her pulse jump where he planted his lips. Her body curved into his, her back pressing tighter against his chest.
That was all it took.
He turned her to face him, and what followed was not so much a choice as it was the inevitable end of weeks of restraint.
His mouth found hers, and the kiss was not gentle. It was the collision of two people who had been guarded against each other for far too long.
Aaron’s hands moved down her waist to the small of her back. Edith rose on her tiptoes to meet him, as though the distance between them had become intolerable. She kissed him back with everything she had been pretending not to feel.
Her fingers curled into the front of his tunic, twisting the fabric as she pulled him closer rather than away, and he felt the last of his composure dissolve entirely.
He backed her up against the wall without meaning to, his hand moving from her back to cup her breasts. He fondled them gently, their kiss deepening into something that had no business happening in a corridor outside their chambers.
Edith moaned against his mouth, quieter this time, and he felt it everywhere.
Aaron.
He stopped. The awareness of who he was, where they were, what he was doing, and what it meant made him pull back. His feet staggered a single step, his heart hammering against his ribs in a way it had no right to.
I cannae do this.
Control snapped back into place like a reflex, his face hardening as though the moment had not happened at all.
There was barely any space between them. Edith’s back was still pressed against the wall, her lips still parted, her chest heaving. Her fingers slowly released the fabric of his tunic as she came back to herself.
She looked up at him with dark eyes, and Aaron forced himself to look away before he did something he would not be able to come back from. He stood there for a moment, his back half turned to her, his breathing ragged.
The corridor was quiet around them. He could hear her settling behind him—the soft exhale, the faint sound of her straightening her gown.
Gather yerself.
He dug his hand into his pocket without a word, reaching for the pouch he had carried with him all day. He had meant to give it to her earlier in the study, but he did not. And he did not care to know why.
He pressed it into her hand. “For ye,” he said.
Edith looked down at it, then up at him. “What is this?”
“Money,” he said, his voice coming out even. “For the arrangement. Two outings. Two lessons. As promised.” He paused. “There will be more after the village fair and harvest festival.”
Edith’s eyes flashed with something, but he could not put a finger on it. Her fingers tightened slowly around the pouch.
“I see,” she said quietly, her spine straightening.
The softness in her eyes was gone.
“I thank ye,” she added, her voice colder than he’d ever heard it. She stepped back, putting distance between them. “Would ye excuse me?”
Aaron frowned slightly. “Of course.”
She dipped her head, not quite meeting his eyes, and walked away toward the stairs without looking back.
Aaron stood where she had left him.
He had done exactly as agreed. He had kept his word—given her what she wanted out of their agreement. Money. Freedom. A future of her own, away from Hallow Castle.
He looked at the space where she had been standing, the air still carrying the scent of wild lavender, and closed his eyes.
Perhaps there is something else.
He stood there a long moment longer than was necessary, then turned around and hurried down the corridor after her.