Her Highlander for One Night, page 11
Strange that those had been Robbie’s words when he’d asked about Robbie’s wife contacting Glynnis. ‘Aye, well enough. Robbie was here recently and said Sheena will be soon.’ He shifted on his feet. ‘Considering the circumstances, it’s not unexpected that you lost touch.’ He stepped a half-pace closer. ‘I did not ken about your husband, Glynnis. Until just last evening when Robert spoke of his passing.’ She gave a slight nod of acceptance of his explanation.
‘I do not ken why I did not speak of it, of him, to you, Iain.’ She paused to take a breath and release it. ‘It has been a struggle for me these last months.’ He could see that she was not the same as the first time he’d encountered her, but did not argue with her. ‘But I must be on the mend, for Lady Elizabeth suggested I move here and accommodate myself to others. A step in my preparation,’ she added.
‘You do look stronger than the first time I saw you out at the cottage.’ She sighed and glanced over his shoulder, not meeting his gaze. ‘Have I offended you, Glynnis? ’Twas not my intention.’
‘Nay,’ she said, her soft brown eyes looking at him. ‘I have struggled through these last months.’ Tears shimmered there in her eyes as she spoke. ‘But I am improved. Stronger.’
‘I am glad of it,’ he said. ‘If you have need of anything from me, just say so.’
‘Ah, you take your duties as tanist seriously.’ A mere hint of a smile lit her face—the changes it wrought were shockingly appealing. ‘Speaking of your selection as tanist,’ she said, leaning closer, ‘the lady told me of your betrothal this morn. I offer my congratulations on such an...an advantageous marriage.’
He’d known the way of things among nobles—that women were used as chattels and for alliances—but, for some reason, it had just struck him that he was the one being used in that way now. Somehow hearing good tidings coming from her, from a woman who had been used and would be again, made it all real.
Iain nodded, accepting her words. Although he would not deny the awkwardness he felt, it also lifted a concern from his shoulders. Each time they’d spoken, Iain had held back telling her about the betrothal. It all led back to the choice she’d made, and though he had wanted to berate her at the time, in truth her decision had led him to this point in his life when he was the one who could choose his path.
‘Are you planning to remain here secluded in the shadows or would you like to walk into the village? I have some time before I must go with Robert to Tor.’
‘If you are certain you have time, I would like that.’ The sound of her voice as she accepted made him smile.
They walked side by side around the stables and down through the yard until they reached the gates. Thinking on whom Glynnis might remember from her time here, Iain led her through the village until the aroma of freshly baked bread grew stronger. Though the very experienced cook in the main kitchens at the keep did most of the baking for those who lived and ate there, Finley, along with his wife, Jeannie, did most of what the villagers needed.
But Finley’s talent was known far and wide and Iain knew Glynnis would remember his skill. They’d turned the corner when she inhaled deeply and smiled, a true smile, the first one since her return. His own stomach grumbled at the smell, for he frequented Finley’s baking ovens often and he’d not broken his fast this morn.
‘Until I smelled them just now, I’d forgotten Finley’s wonderful loaves.’
‘Forgotten them? Is that possible?’ he scoffed. ‘Well, I am certain he will have an extra one for you to refresh your memories.’
The door was open, as was his usual custom to allow the heat of the ovens to escape, and the smell as they approached made his mouth water in anticipation. Finley’s wife, Jeannie, stepped outside just as they arrived at the door.
‘Good morning, Iain,’ she said. ‘Finley, the lad looks famished. Bring him along some bread and grab the chunk of cheese I left on the shelf for him.’ She winked at him as she continued calling out over her shoulder, ‘We canna hiv the tanist faint wi’ hunger now, can we?’
Only then did she pause to notice Glynnis standing next to him. He was about to remind the baker’s wife of the lady’s identity when she stepped past him to stand in front of Glynnis.
‘My lady,’ she said, as she bowed her head slightly in respect. ‘I hadna heard of yer arrival here. Welcome back to Achnacarry.’ Once more the older woman tilted her head and spoke over her shoulder. ‘Finley, Lady Glynnis is here and looks a bit peaked. Bring some fresh bread and do it now.’ Jeannie leaned closer to Glynnis and whispered to her, ‘Are ye weel, my lady? Ye look a wee bit pale.’
‘I am well, Jeannie,’ Glynnis said in the lightest tone of voice he’d heard from her. ‘And I thank you for your concern.’
Finley arrived with two steaming loaves, wrapped in cloth and tucked under one arm, a wedge of cheese in his hand and a wide smile for both of them. The glance he gave his wife had as much steam as the bread did and the couple made no attempt to hide their attraction to each other—even now years after the woman married a lad years younger than she.
‘Good morn, Iain. Lady Glynnis, ’tis good to see ye again.’ The baker handed out his bounty even as he slid his arm around his wife. ‘If ye would like some butter for those, I hiv—’
‘Nay,’ Iain said. He’d already peeled open the cloth and torn a piece off the end of the loaf. Steam rose in waves from the exposed baked dough inside it. He tore another bite off with his teeth, chewing and swallowing it before saying another word.
They were very familiar with his ravenous hunger that never seemed to be satisfied completely, for he often stopped here on his way through the village. Iain turned to Glynnis and watched as she broke off smaller pieces than the chunks he had and chewed them in a manner he could only describe as...polite. But, for as long as he’d known her, she had always done that. Her best manners on display. Always the lady.
Had she ever been a hellion? Even for a few minutes or an hour? He had glimpsed those few rebellious gestures she made with him, but she would not have been condemned for any of them by anyone but herself. He watched as she spoke to Jeannie and wondered if she’d ever been drunk. Or refused some duty or chore given her. He doubted that kind of defiance lived within her.
But as he saw her struggling to continue to have a conversation and continuing to do so because of the couple’s kindness to them, he understood the effort it was taking for her to engage like this. Because she would not put herself above others.
‘We should not keep you from your tasks,’ he interrupted. ‘Others need your skills and our lives might be forfeit if we are the cause for them not having their allotment.’
Finley nodded and Jeannie waited for them to leave. By the time they’d taken a few paces away, he heard the buoyant giggles of two people playing at love. If Glynnis heard them, she gave no sign as they walked on down the path and around this side of the village. His bread and cheese were gone within the first minutes, but Glynnis had wrapped the remnants of hers back up in the cloth Jeannie had used and carried it with her. Iain took the shorter way back to the keep when he noticed her steps slowing down beside him.
He offered his arm to her and when she accepted it without comment, he felt the trembling. He’d taken her too far. And, as was her way, she’d not objected. Iain guided her up the steps and they found her maid waiting there. Just before the young woman reached them, he leaned in close so only Glynnis would hear his words.
‘You must have a care, Glynnis. Know your limits. Do not let others take advantage of your willingness,’ Iain said.
‘My willingness?’ She looked startled by his words.
‘Your willingness to diminish yourself to the needs of others. Not even me.’ He stepped back and allowed Maggie closer.
As the two walked away from him, Glynnis glanced back over her shoulder, a frown marring her brow. It was clear she’d never considered herself first. Or second. Or even important in the scheme of life.
And maybe she should.
Chapter Ten
The next three weeks were among some of the most contented in her life. As her godmother promised, no one made demands on her and she accepted or declined requests for her time or efforts based on her own desires.
Oh, she could not completely wipe away the need to comply or the urge to be of help. Idle hands were not part of her upbringing and the stronger she felt the harder it was to resist offering her efforts or assistance. Especially difficult considering what Lady Elizabeth and even The Cameron had done in giving her sanctuary in her time of need.
One evening after supper when most at table had sought their bedchambers, Lord Robert took her aside and spoke candidly to her of his reaction to discovering his wife’s plans and assured her of his welcome of her here.
As she sat at table that evening, with the doors open to catch the summer breezes, listening to a variety of conversations, Glynnis was absolutely content. Her body felt hers again, her strength and stamina improved each day and even her courses had seemed to right their timing. Though she mourned each time they came, even that lessened over time.
The best thing over these last weeks had been the feeling of ease she felt around all of the Camerons, with each passing day. With the long summer days, and the weather unseasonably dry and pleasant, she took advantage to walk after supper and before the gates were closed. She knew not if the lady had orchestrated it so that she did not walk alone at night or not, but somehow, someone always turned up at just the time when she would leave the keep.
Some nights, Tomas walked with her. When Robbie visited again, they walked and she was glad of the chance to reacquaint herself with him. Once his intended betrothed, they had always been on comfortable terms and a marriage with him would have been that as well. In a word—comfortable. What was clear from his words and the way his face lit with every mention of Sheena was that he was deeply in love with her and not a bit disappointed in the changes that love had wrought in his life. In the privacy of her own thoughts, Glynnis admired that, in spite of the consequences that had rippled out from his choice.
How must that feel? To have the freedom to make your own choices. To go about knowing you had that power. She let out another sigh.
‘Is that boredom or fatigue?’ Iain walked behind her chair. Pulling out the empty stool next to her, for Tomas had left on some errand for his father, he sat down.
‘Neither,’ she said. ‘’Twas acceptance of a universal truth.’
Now that they were more at ease in speaking, she noticed all the things she’d first liked about him. Oh, some had changed—his height, his age, his position. And others had improved—his strength, his sense of humour, his loyalty. Where he’d been quiet as a younger man, now he strode through his world with confidence and with that same control over his destiny as Robbie had.
‘And that truth?’
She glanced at him for a moment, tempted to reveal the truth in her heart. That she wanted more than she would ever be able to have. That she wanted to be the one to choose. But the one truth that lay deep in her heart was the one she could never reveal. Not to him.
‘That is something we can discuss on another day.’
He laughed at her reply and that truth in her heart grew at the pure delight in it. It did her spirit good to see how he enjoyed his life. Each day, he grew in the respect of The Cameron and all who lived in his domain. Each week, he moved closer to attaining the life Iain wanted and, from the sound of bits shared with her, the one he was looking forward to living.
‘Have you plans to walk?’ he asked once he stopped laughing. When she hesitated, the knowledge within her heart too fresh and too frightening, he stood. ‘I have to speak with Geordie about a forthcoming journey to Tor. Would you walk with me?’
He began to hold out his hand to her and stopped. She noticed even the small touches now that he made in passing. Every time he was near to her. Each time his hand slid under her elbow to support or guide her body. Her body reacted in a completely different manner to these gestures than it had when they were younger. At that time, she only anticipated and dreamed of the passion whispered to exist between men and women. Their innocent kisses and caresses teased and thrilled them, for both had been untested by pleasures of the flesh.
Glynnis rose, glanced and nodded at Iain, as the unsettling question took hold of her before she could stop it.
How many lovers had he taken his pleasure with since her departure?
She stumbled and he did reach out to her. To cover the misstep, Glynnis tugged on the length of her gown as though it had been trapped. Why was she thinking about that? Why now?
The heat in his touch warmed her as he made certain she had her balance. His body was so close to hers now that she felt the strength in his muscles as he kept his hand in place, not allowing her to fall. The masculine, clean scent of him drew her closer. She recognised what she was doing and stepped out of his hold.
Mayhap walking with him right now, as this unexplained weakness in her response to him surged into being, was not a good idea? Mayhap she should sit right back down in her chair and call for more ale to cool the growing heat within her? Aye, that’s what she should do. Exactly that. Yet, when she spoke, she surprised herself with the words.
‘I will walk with you.’
He smiled as he allowed her to go ahead of him. He moved to her side and they crossed the hall and left by means of those open doors. They fell into an even pace as they made their way to the far side of the yard and into the stables. Neither spoke, but her thoughts raced. Filled with inappropriate questions that she wanted to ask him none the less, Glynnis stood at the end of the row of stalls and watched him as he found Geordie and pursued the matter that had brought him here.
Their deep voices rumbled and the echoes filled the stables, empty but for them and the horses. Iain walked into the main aisle that ran the length of the building and turned back to Geordie, giving her a chance to study him.
Aye, Iain Mackenzie had grown into a fine-looking man. As she looked upon him, whispered words came to mind.
As a widow, I can have my pick of them for bed play, ye ken.
A strong shiver raced through her body, waves of heat and cold passing over her skin as the words came to her. Searching her memory for the identity of the one who’d spoken those words, Glynnis could hear a bit of the overheard conversation of her first days with the Campbells.
Glynnis had been walking through the kitchens and passed by a small group of servants and the like gathered by the door staring out as a number of the Campbell warriors trained outside. Looking past the women to the men training, Glynnis noted that most of them practised without their shirts, no matter the weather. Those who wore shirts were as good as naked, for their sweat plastered their garments over their bodies, showing every curve and muscle as they moved and fought.
Though new to the marriage bed and the naked forms of men, Glynnis felt the heated blush move up her cheeks as she listened...and watched along with the others.
The woman nearest the door had spoken. As a widow, I can have my pick of them for bed play, ye ken.
Not a servant, this woman was kin to Martainn, a cousin whose husband had served in the household. Now, widowed, she looked for companionship where she could find it and no one said much about it for she was, usually, discreet.
A widow had more freedom than either an unmarried or married woman did. If not under the control of her husband’s family or her father and not expected to remarry at their whim, she could live among them and see to her own keep. Though some were permitted their freedom, her father did not agree.
Still, she was a widow here and now. She could...
Turning back to where the men stood, Glynnis found Geordie gone while Iain was watching her with an intensity that made her want him more.
* * *
She was staring at him as though he was the last sweet on the tray at the end of a feast. Her eyes flashed and her mouth dropped open, enough for him to see that she breathed in short little pants.
Hungry.
Nay, wanting.
Wanting...him?
She’d filled his dreams when they were together. His naive dreams about a love so pure it would last their lifetimes. Since Glynnis had come back to Achnacarry, she’d filled his nights in a way he knew they could never have.
And the expression she wore right in this moment was the one he’d wished for years he’d see.
And there it was.
She wanted him the way he’d wanted her. For years. Before she left him. After she’d gone. Since her return. And every other second since he’d met her all those years ago.
But he would not take what she would not give him.
Though he would beg if she needed to hear that.
Iain looked away, trying to break the power of her gaze. If he did not, he might...
Do any number of things if she came to him.
When she moved, he stopped breathing. When the tip of her tongue slid out and ran along her bottom lip, his flesh hardened.
It took only four paces for her to reach him. He counted each one as she approached. His hands clenched into fists to keep from touching her. Oh, he wanted to, but he sensed that she had no idea of her power in that moment. Or the line they would face or cross if this went the way he thought it might.
Damn him, the way he wanted it to go.
When she stood before him, close enough that his boots touched the edge of her gown, she lifted her face to his.
‘Iain.’ His name was a plea on her lips.
‘Glynnis, this is—’
‘Unexpected,’ she said. He laughed.
‘Daft.’
‘Aye, at least daft.’ How she moved closer he could not tell, but she shifted and rose up on her toes until he could feel her breath on his face. ‘I’ve been empty for so long, not questioning or wanting anything. Anyone,’ she explained. Then she simply demanded, ‘Kiss me, Iain.’
