AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He gave her one of those peculiar looks she was beginning to recognize, looking something between warm and baffled. “Rage, eh?”
“Oh yes, he was a gloomy fellow. Consumed by anger, wanting only vengeance against those who’d wronged him. ”
“I told you I sensed a kinship. ” Aidan’s words were light, but his eyes were grave.
Chagrin choked her. She’d been right—though they talked of Achilles, they were somehow speaking of Aidan, too. “But he was so much more than just his anger,” she insisted. “He was tremendously brave too. A true hero. ”
“Indeed?” Aidan glanced at the dog asleep by the fire. “Such a complicated name with which to saddle a poor, innocent pup. ”
“Well…” Her mind raced, this banter more than she could handle. Night was falling, and the firelight cast one side of Aidan’s face in shadow. He was so handsome, her dark rogue, and she was struggling to put two thoughts together. “It was an arrow. That killed him. Achilles, I mean. He was killed by an arrow to his heel, and that Achilles,” she said, pointing to her dog, “has a white heel, and so you see …”
Her voice tapered off, but Aidan was quick to pick up the thread. “I do see, clearly. ” He pinned his gaze back on her, so intense it was as though he’d touched her. “You say he was away from home for many years. What happened when he returned? Did he have his vengeance?”
Were they just speaking of Achilles, or was there some deeper meaning at work again? She fluttered through the pages, as though she might be able to flip to the answer.
“Did he return a hero?” he pressed. “Does he die a hero?”
With a nervous laugh, she quipped, “Some say he died because of his ill-advised marriage to a Trojan princess. ”
She’d hoped to change the topic to more swimmable waters, but that bit of trivia kindled something sinful to life in his gaze. “An ill-advised affair, was it? Was there nobody to counsel our hero against such an ill-fated love?” He leaned closer, his voice growing huskier. “Or was it simply lust that felled our great Achilles?”
“I … I’m uncertain …” Lust. He spoke to her of lust. Liquid heat flooded her body, making her cheeks hot, her chest tight, her nothing more than a creature of acute desire. She rubbed her forehead—between the evening’s reading and repartee, she was becoming undone. “We’ll simply have to read till the end,” she finally managed, her tone overly bright.
“Shame on me. ” He leaned away, and the moment ended, leaving her wondering if there even had been a moment. “I’m making you read, and it clearly pains you. ” He reached out his hand. “I daresay it’s time for me to give it a go. ”
“Take me. ” Her eyes widened, and she foisted the book at him. “It! Take it. Perhaps … I think it’s your turn. To read. ”
As Aidan grasped it, their fingers brushed. He stilled, and for a moment, both of their hands held the book, fingertips touching.
The door swung open, and Elspeth flinched away, mentally flaying her father with every curse she’d ever read. Why did he have to choose just then to return?
The man stood in the doorway, glowering at the pair of them. Seeming to find everything to his satisfaction, he strode to the fire to stoke it. “That fool farmer’s not around. And now I’ve spent legs and a spent pipe. ”
Elspeth glanced from her father to Aidan. Should they continue? Surely he wouldn’t want to read in front of anyone else. Tentatively, she reached out her hand. “Shshall I?”
Her father was restless, strolling about the cottage, seemingly everywhere at once, making her feel hemmed in. “The boy’s not reading for himself yet?”
She felt Aidan tense, and shame choked her. She knew her father didn’t like Aidan, but couldn’t see why he had to be so rude. “He’s a man, father. ”
Aidan raised the book in the air. “A man about to read for himself. ” His smile was jaunty, but his eyes were cold flint.
“Remember,” she told him quietly, hating that her father was watching, “scan the words before you begin. I think it helps to have a picture of the page in your head before you dive in. ”
He did as she instructed, shaking his head. “ ‘Death … bodies … feasts for dogs and birds … ’ ” He glanced up, warmth in his eyes. “You’ve truly read this? Seems unsuitable for a gentle lady. ”
Gentle lady. She swelled. Not farmer’s daughter, nor rustic, nor unrefined. He’d called her “gentle,” and a “lady. ” “Oh, I am. I mean, I have. ” She took a breath and tried again. “I have read it. I adore tales of battle. Swashbuckling tales. Adventure. ” Would that Aidan would tell her more of his tales. Would that she were brave enough to ask.
He began to read, and though he was slow, his pace was steady. “You’re a quick study,” she told him between sentences. “I daresay, whatever you knew as a child has mostly come back to you. ”
“It’s the quick wit of my teacher I’m to thank,” he said, and she gave him a blushing smile in response.
Her father’s voice boomed from behind them. “Are you learning or courting, lad?”
She tensed, but refused to grace her father with a response. “Go ahead,” she told Aidan. “Please continue. ”
He did, until he reached a word that stumped him. “Ag … Agam … Agamem …”
Her father laughed. “Just sound it out, boy. ”
