However, she barely heard Elena’s response; she could still feel the pull of his presence at her side. The warmth of the room, the chatter of the other guests, the clinking of glasses—it all felt distant now, as if they were in their own world, separated from the others by something unspoken and electric.
A soft laugh broke her thoughts as Marcus leaned closer, his voice lowering in a way that made her stomach flutter. She realized that he was deep in his cups, and the drunkenness was making him bold.
“Ye seem a bit distracted, lass,” he said, his words carrying a hint of something more. “Somethin’ I said?”
Annabeth met his eyes, unable to mask the vulnerability she felt, but she forced herself to remain composed. “Nae distracted,” she replied though her voice betrayed her. “Just thinkin’.”
Marcus raised an eyebrow, his smile widening as if he saw right through her. “Aye, thinkin’, eh?” he mused. “I am thinkin’ as well, of somethin’ that I dare nae say out loud, or ye would blush as red as a rose.”
Her eyes widened as he took the liberty of allowing his eyes to roam over her body with those words. She looked away, feeling the moisture gathering between her thighs and her nipples become sensitive against the fabric of her dress.
What is happening to me?
By the time dinner was over and the group retired to their rooms, Annabeth found herself restless. She lay in bed, her thoughts consumed by Marcus and the unexpected desires that had swept through her with his playful words and roaming eyes.
The kiss they had shared, the quiet moments of lingering gazes—it all felt so uncertain, so full of possibilities that she wasn’t sure she was ready to face. But as sleep finally claimed her, she couldn’t deny the ache in her chest, the desire for something more with Marcus.
His touch.
The next day as Annabeth worked, Elena nervously approached.
“I’ve a secret to tell ye,” Elena whispered. “I think I’m with a bairn.”
Annabeth dropped the poultice in her hand. She had already suspected as much, but to hear the words still surprised her.
“Elena? Are ye sure?” Annabeth placed her hand on Elena’s belly.
“I believe so. It’s been two months since me moon time,” Elena said.
“Would ye like me to examine ye and see?” Annabeth asked.
“Aye, but ye must keep it secret,” Elena said.
“Were ye forced into this situation?” Annabeth whispered.
Elena shook her head, no. “A secret because I daenae want to tarnish me lover’s reputation. He’s a good man and has asked for me hand in marriage, but I havenae agreed.”
“What? Why would ye say nay?”
“He’s a man of such station, I’m nae sure I’m good enough. What would people say?”
“Ye should care of yer own happiness and nae of the waggin’ tongues of others. Now let me examine ye,” Annabeth said.
As she started her examination, she realized that her own words were not something she practiced herself, for she also thought she was not worthy of Marcus, a man of a high station, and she was just a simple healer.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Ye’re lookin’ like the king himself today,” Eli teased, his voice low but carrying the lightness of his usual humor. “They cannae stop bowin’ to ye, eh?” Marcus glanced at his friend, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Aye, they’ll be doin’ it until the day I’m laid to rest,” he muttered though there was no real bitterness in his voice.
The villagers, upon spotting Marcus, immediately stopped their tasks and bowed respectfully, their heads lowered in acknowledgment of his presence. Marcus nodded back at each of them, his expression stern yet appreciative, aware of the weight his position carried in these parts. The village of Galton was quiet yet bustling with activity as Marcus and Eli wandered through the cobbled streets. Small stone cottages lined the road with smoke curling from chimneys and children played near the market square.
Eli’s eyes gleamed with mischief as he nudged Marcus with his elbow. “Ye ken, ye cannae fool me,” he said, his voice teasing. “When are ye goin’ to tell Annabeth that ye find her a bonnielass and ye desire her? Yer eyes cannae stop followin’ her. It’s shameful, Laird!”
Marcus halted in his tracks, eyes narrowing as he turned to Eli. “Mind yer own business, Eli,” he said, his tone more serious than he intended. “What I do with Annabeth is nae somethin’ to be discussed between us.” He began walking again, trying to shake off the discomfort of the conversation.
Eli grinned, clearly not deterred as he laughed. “Aye, but ye look like ye’re ready to burst, mate,” he teased, quickening his step to match Marcus’ stride. “Ye cannae keep that fire inside forever; I’d say ye’ve got it bad for the lass.”
Marcus’ jaw tightened, and he gave Eli a pointed look. “Ye’ve nae idea what ye’re talkin’ about.”
