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His hands moved up her legs, bringing her skirts with them. As he reached her thighs, she trembled in anticipation. That was when she smelled it—an acrid, burning scent that stung at her nostrils and seared away any thoughts of romance.
Panic seized her. “The broth!”
Pushing him back, she leaped from the table and went to her pot, where black smoke billowed out. Clamping a hand to her mouth, she grabbed a cloth and took hold of the pot’s handle, removing it from the heat of the flickering flames. It belched smoke all the way through the cottage as she hurried to the door and wrenched it open, taking the ruined broth outside where the wind could get rid of the worst of the smell and burning.
“It’s ruined,” she lamented, setting the pot down and staring at the blackened result. Mrs. MacDonald had warned her to keep an eye on it, but what was Melissa supposed to do when her handsome husband kissed her to distraction?
Angus came up behind her, pulling her back into an embrace. “Never mind, love. We can dine up at the castle, if ye prefer? Yer sister and Ryder invited us.”
“I shouldnae have bothered tryin’.” Melissa sighed. She lacked the resolve to be any kind of housewife, for it bored her to tears more often than not. This had been the final proof.
Angus chuckled. “It was a lovely gesture.”
“I suppose we should dine up at the castle, then,” Melissa conceded, though she had an ulterior motive. “Actually, it’s perfect!”
“It is?”
Melissa nodded. “I’ve been meanin’ to wear Laird Grumpy down about allowin’ me to join his war council, but he’s never there when I want to speak to him. If ye ask me, he runs and hides the minute he sees me comin’, but if he’s invited us to dine, then he willnae be able to escape me petition. Maybe, he’s already decided to relent!”
Excitement thrummed through her, for she had never understood why her brother-in-law, Ryder, the Laird of Millar, was so averse to listening to a female perspective when it came to clan matters. After all, her sister, Meredith, likely had a say in Ryder’s endeavors and decisions, in the privacy of their bedchamber. And, considering that Angus was Ryder’s man-at-arms, it made sense to Melissa that she should also have a say.
“Daenae do this again,” Angus said firmly, releasing her from the embrac while huffing out a sigh that she did not care for.
Melissa turned. “Daenae do what again? Call him ‘Laird Grumpy’? It’s what I’ve always done, and though he declares otherwise, I ken he wouldnae have it any other way.”
“Nay, daenae mention tryin’ to force yerself into the war council again. Ye’ve been told, over and over, why ye cannae, but ye willnae listen. It’s nay place for… me wife,” Angus replied, folding his arms across his chest so she could not soften his resolve with a hug.
She folded her arms across her chest in return. “Nay place for a woman, ye meant to say!”
“Would ye desist. That isnae what I was goin’ to say! I just daenae like the thought of ye hearin’ brutal things, that’s all.”
Melissa did not believe him, for they had quarreled over this before. Little arguments that were quickly resolved, and smoothed over with kisses and entanglements, but the burning of the broth had put her in a more defiant mood. This time, she would not back down.
“If there’s ever a war or conflict or a decision that could affect ye and me, do I nae have a right to make meself heard?” she insisted. “I would speak for the women who have to watch their sons, faithers, brothers, husbands, go off to fight, and the Lord kens ye men are nae good at makin’ wise decisions when yer blood is up. Ye need a lass to speak sagely in such circumstances.”
“Ye’re sayin’ ye can make decisions better than the Laird?” Angus snorted, as if that were the most outlandish notion he had ever heard.
Melissa shrugged. “I’m sayin’ I can be of use to him. I’m nae a wiltin’ damsel who doesnae ken what she’s talkin’ about.” Familiar frustration bristled in her chest. “Has he forgotten that I saved me sister’s life… and his, if ye think about it. He was more than happy to rely upon me courage and me thoughts, back then.”
“That was five years ago, Melissa!” Angus urged, reflecting her exasperation. “Aye, ye did one brave and courageous thing, and that willnae ever be forgotten, but it doesnae make ye suitable to sit upon a war council.”
Melissa did not like his tone. “What do ye mean, ‘that willnae ever be forgotten?’ Are ye sayin’ I speak of it too often? Should I nae speak of me brave exploits? Should I pretend to be a meek and submissive wife who wouldnae say ‘boo’ to a goose?” She jabbed a finger at the blackened pot of broth. “Well, good luck with that, as I cannae even boil yer dinner without ruinin’ it!”
“I wasnae sayin’ that,” Angus protested. “It willnae be forgotten because it was a heroic act. Stop puttin’ words in me mouth. It’s probably ye who kens ye speak of it too often.”
Melissa’s nostrils flared. “So, ye admit it, ye do think I speak of it too often?”
It was the proudest moment of her life, the day she had rescued her sister with a bold scheme to trick the wicked Laird of Moore, Colby Greene, into letting her into his castle. Meredith had been held captive, and it was the only way to get her out. It had gone awry, in part, but they had ultimately succeeded. Indeed, when she looked at the new castle, repaired and rebuilt after the fire that had gutted it, and now belonging to Felix, she gave herself an inward round of applause.
It's nae as if anyone offered me a castle, like they did me brother. I’ve held me tongue on that, but I willnae hold me tongue on this.
“This isnae gettin’ us anywhere, love.” Angus softened his voice a little. “Ye ken I trust ye with everythin’ and I’d trust ye with me life, but I cannae ask Ryder to accommodate ye, just because ye’re bored and ye daenae have anythin’ else to do. Nay one is askin’ ye to make broth—that’s what Charlotte is for—but ye need to find somethin’ to entertain yerself, for everyone’s sake.”
Melissa nodded sarcastically. “And would ye say that to a man? Would ye tell him to just ‘entertain himself?’ Do ye nae think there’s a reason I’m bored out of me mind, Angus? It’s nae fulfillin’, waitin’ here, feelin’ useless! I ken there’s more I can do, if ye and Ryder would just let me!”
“We’re nae havin’ this conversation,” Angus said decisively. “Ye daenae belong on a war council, and I cannae change that. Nay, I willnae change that. Ye wouldnae understand half of what’s said, anyway, so I’m savin’ ye from lookin’ foolish.”
Melissa’s head jolted back in outrage. “What do ye all ken that I daenae, eh? I ken about swords and bows and muskets and cavalry. Even so, I’m nae askin’ to be involved in military tactics! I’m just askin’ to be a part of the decision-makin’. Ye ken I’m good at conjurin’ schemes, and, sometimes, the way to win a war is to be sneaky.”
