Seeing no point in hiding anything from these women, who had shown me only kindness, I told them how I had defended myself, and why. I told them of my journey, my thievery, my encounter with Wilkie. I told them of our small but vicious battle. I told them everything. Actually, noteverything. And they were curious about the details I left out, I could read this on their faces. But even Christie refrained from asking those particular questions.
“Oh, Roses,” said Ailie, aghast. “How did you dare to run like that? Alone and defenseless? You must have been terrified.”
“Aye. I was. I had read the laird’s intentions, though, so I think I knew I would act when the time came. I was relieved to be free of him. I was most frightened when Wilkie ran after me, after he saw me. I think I would rather he killed me than return me to Ogilvie.”
Effie made a small sound, as though she was either impressed by my bravery or amused by my foolishness, I couldn’t quite tell.
“There,” Ailie finally said. I was given a small hand mirror so I could inspect myself. My hair had been artfully braided and wrapped in a fashionable twist at the back. And it gleamed from the careful washing and brushing. The neckline of my ice-blue dress was high at the back but, again, lower than I was used to in thefront, accentuating the curve of my breasts in a flattering manner. Fashioned like the dresses worn in Paris, Christie had claimed as she’d laced its bodice, wistfully vocalizing her wish to travel to the Continent one day.
As I took in my own reflection, I was mildly shocked at my own transformation. It was certainly a dramatic change from the wild-eyed, bloodied savage who’d shown up on the Mackenzie doorstep only a short time ago. This new reflection was beautiful, I had to admit, but didn’t seem entirely likeme. I smoothed my hand along the silky fabric of my dress, remembering for the first time since my arrival: my mother’s daisy pin. Had I left it pinned to my tunic? I would have to check. I vaguely remembered taking it off, at the pool by the cave, and placing it on a rock there. I felt almost certain that I’d left it there. I’d have to tell Wilkie that I needed to retrieve it. It was the only possession I had that had once belonged to my parents. My one keepsake of their memories.
But I wouldn’t have time to worry about it now.
I was escorted from Wilkie’s antechamber and down the stairs. I was excited, both to be up and about and also by the news that Wilkie would visit me at noontime. It wouldn’t be long until I could see him again. My stomach felt fluttery at the prospect. And, shamelessly, my secret places piqued and tingled at the promise of his nearness.
Effie excused herself, and I was led to a drawing room by Christie and Ailie, where a light meal brunch had been laid, by an open window. I felt wildly refreshed by the sunlight that streamed into the room, and the light breeze that carried with it the scents ofautumn, of crops on the brink of harvest, of ripe fruit and earthly bounty.
I sighed as I stood near the window, taking a deep breath of the healing fresh air, appreciating the view and my good fortune at that moment.
Ailie watched me, registering my fascination with the garden and my obvious comfort in the breeze and in the softly settling rays of sunlight, which touched my face and my hair. “Perhaps Wilkie will allow us to escort you on a stroll through the orchards, Roses. I’ll ask him.”
I couldn’t help smiling at her. “I would love to, Ailie. Very much.”
“You mustn’t get overly sunned, Roses,” said Christie, serving me a cup of tea, and noticing how I was basking in the sun’s warmth.
“Just for a moment, Christie,” said Ailie. “She’s been cooped up for weeks.” Had it been that long?
At first I wondered at Christie’s concern. Then I realized; of course: it was unfashionable for a woman to be overly sunned. It was true that I’d never much considered protecting my skin from the sun; I enjoyed the feel of it far too much to hide away from it. And since my work had called for me to spend most of my time indoors, the little time I had been able to enjoy out-of-doors pursuits had been spent helping in the gardens, or covertly practicing my sword fighting or horse riding skills. So I had little cause to worry about such matters. And I’d never before had the luxury to consider the fashion of paleness, nor any other fashion, for that matter. Servants’ dresses were coarse and cumbersome. Men’s riding trews were frowned upon on a woman but had allowed me to move more freely, and to hide mybody from Ogilvie’s wandering eyes. So I’d worn them at every opportunity. My looks in general, and the paleness of my skin in particular, had never been something I’d paused to consider.
And my skin was not creamy and pink-cheeked, like these sisters, but rather golden in hue, so I rarely burned from the sun, even if I did happen to spend hours out-of-doors. And now, the pooling warmth simply felt too good for me to move away from the rays’ light caress.
It was at that moment that Wilkie and Kade strode into the room, talking animatedly, in good spirits. “I’ve never seen you so savage in training, brother,” Kade was saying. “I feared for Crispen’s life. It seems you’re not only fully recovered but possessing of a new vigor.”
“Aye, it would seem so.” Wilkie laughed, and then he stopped in his tracks when he saw me standing by the window.
Just the sight of him there, roughened and energized from his morning of sparring, it weakened my knees. His masculinity clung to him along with the sunlight. His black hair was windblown and wild, and his eyes darkened the moment he looked at me. The combined effect made him look dangerous and achingly, mind-numbingly beautiful.
He walked over to me, dreamily, and he was there with me, staring down at me with an intensity that brought a flush to my cheeks. His eyes looked almost disbelieving. “Angel,” he said.
His voice seemed to touch me in my most intimate places; those same places that were already tingling and over-sensitive from the very thought of him now swelled and moistened at his closeness. I wanted him to touch me and kiss me, and bear me down to the floorto do unspeakable things to my body. I craved him, the taste of him on my tongue and the feel of his skin under my fingertips.
Instead, mindful of the very intrigued and watchful eyes of Kade, Christie and Ailie, I somehow managed to return his soft greeting. “Warrior.”
We stood like that for a moment, drinking in the sight of each other, thinking thoughts—at least on my part—that were wholly improper and wickedly alluring. I felt, after a minute or more of this quiet torture, that feeling again: that if Wilkie had touched me then, very lightly, on my most intimate flesh, I would have erupted into those exquisite quivering spasms he so easily seemed able to inspire within me.
When he reached for my hand, I almost drew back, afraid of what his touch might do to me. But he grasped both my hands firmly in his own. He leaned closer, so his mouth was close to my ear. “You are the sun,” he whispered.
Then he leaned in as though to give me a kiss on the cheek. Nothing untoward, just a public greeting under the collective gaze of his siblings. But then, instead of kissing my cheek, Wilkie moved to touch his mouth lower, to the side of my throat, in an open-mouthed brush that made me gasp.
Ailie and Christie exchanged a meaningful glance, then returned their gaze to me, to the spectacle of us.
Embarrassed by my own obvious weakness to him, and feeling the burn of it across my cheeks and elsewhere, I tried to smile at him, at Ailie and Christie, at Kade, whose measured stare was taking in his brother’s unusual behavior.
“How...how did your training go?” I asked, hoping my voice didn’t give away the extent of my longing.
“I hope you didn’t aggravate your injury, Wilkie, by overdoing it,” said Ailie, and I was grateful to her, for breaking the observant silence among the three of them. “Effie said to go easy this day, and for several days.”
“’Tis a good thing Effie wasn’t there, then,” said Kade. “Wilkie did not go easy and, in fact, very nearly skewered several of our clansmen.”
