Highland Lover: Book 3 Scottish Knights Trilogy (38 page)

T
o Alyson’s relief, after Jake, Farigaig, and Ranald had gone into the solar, her great-aunt sent Sinead away with the MacNivens, leaving Alyson at the dais table with only her mother and Lady Beatha.

The latter said, “Give us the round tale, lass. We’ll see what we make of it.”

Thinking of Jake and what he faced with Ranald and her father, Alyson found it easier than expected to say, “It is as it should be, Aunt Beatha.”

“This wheen o’ blethers about Niall being dead and ye already married again? I dinna mind telling ye, I canna get my mind round it.”

“Nor can I, Alyson,” her mother said fretfully. “If you do not
know
that Niall is dead—”

“I
saw
Niall in his coffin, Mam,” Alyson interjected.

Both women stared at her and then at each other. She knew that the two of them accepted her Sight more readily than the rest of her family.

Lady Beatha, for once, did not assert herself but nodded when Lady Farigaig said, “Even so, Allie, this marriage you’ve made with Sir Jacob cannot be lawful.”

“But it is, aye, Mam,” Alyson said. “Sithee, the Papal
Legate annulled my marriage to Niall, because…” Meeting her never-wed great-aunt’s piercing gaze, she faltered, drew breath, and said, “That is, Niall… we never consummated our union. Mayhap you do not like to hear me say such a thing, Aunt—”

“Pish tush, Allie. I’m neither blind nor stupid. Come tae that, I’ve helped wi’ many a birthing, so I ken what’s what about such things. I can guess that
ye’d
had little ken o’ such, though. So if yon fool, Niall, didna show ye…”

After that, it was easy to explain what had happened. She did have to explain to her mother about the powers of a papal legate. But Lady Farigaig acknowledged then that she thought Jake might make Alyson a good husband.

“Aye, sure, he will,” Lady Beatha said. “Wi’ a pair o’ shoulders like his… sakes, I’d fall for the man m’self.”

The image those words brought to Alyson’s mind forced her to suppress a smile, and she wondered what Jake would say when she told him. That she looked forward to telling him pleased her. That he had to leave in the morning to tell the King the English had captured Jamie did not.

After Ranald left, Farigaig said, “I was right about Niall, aye?”

“Aye, sir. Your daughter remained a maiden. I learned as much—”

“Never mind how ye learned it, lad,” Farigaig said. “That ye be Ivor’s friend and studied under Bishop Traill tells me I can trust your sense of honor. Had I retained more o’ mine after my sons died, I’d have stopped that wedding afore it began. But I be good for nowt these days.
I couldna make m’self care enough. In troth, with Eamon and Artan gone, leaving only Ranald…”

A twinge of something stirred in Jake when Farigaig paused. Impulsively, he said, “Sakes, sir, do you fear that Ranald may be
like
Niall?”

The bleak expression on Farigaig’s face gave Jake his answer.

Jake shook his head. “Ye ken more o’ your son than I do. But what I see is a lad whose family turned him into what we from the Borders call a mammie-keekie or a dandilly with too much cosseting. From what Alyson has said of him, I’d expect that he needs only firmer guidance and a purpose in life.”

Farigaig grimaced. “He shows nae interest in such.”

“With respect, sir… Is it possible that when your sons died, your grief led Ranald—who was likely also grieving—to fear that you cared more for Eamon and Artan than you do for him? If members of your family had petted and pampered him before and he came then to believe that he’s a great disappointment to you…”

He paused, aware that Farigaig was frowning, digesting his words.

At last, Farigaig said, “We’ll discuss that further anon if ye will. I would likewise discuss other matters with ye after ye return from Stirling.”

“In troth, sir, I go to Rothesay Castle,” Jake said. “I did not tell Ranald, because I’d liefer keep my business private for now. Alyson knows where I go and why, and you should know that the journey may take some time and that it would be unsuitable for her to accompany me.”

“Ye’ll see tae your affairs as ye must, lad, and I’ll tend tae mine here. Just thinking o’ ye and our Ivor studying
with Traill makes me ponder what the man would ha’ said o’ my behavior these past years, had he had ken of it. I’ve much for which tae atone, as ye’d doubtless agree.”

“In troth, sir,” Jake said, smiling, “I have a few such things on my plate, too. Does that jug on yonder table contain summat we might drink?”

“A fine claret, aye,” Farigaig said. “Ye’ll find goblets in the wooden kist behind the jug. I own, I’ve more questions I’d like tae ask ye.”

Alyson escaped from the great chamber as soon as she civilly could. Then, asking her father’s steward to direct Sir Jacob to her bedchamber, she managed to do so in her usual manner, without concerning herself with what he might think of her new marriage. When he agreed in his own usual way, she hurried upstairs, calling for a maidservant as she went.

The necessity to summon the maid reminded her of Ciara’s fate and stirred both remorse and guilt. Common sense reminded her that she could not alter Fate, so she returned her thoughts to what she must do before Jake came upstairs.

Ordering a tub and hot water, she bathed hastily but thoroughly by candlelight with the maidservant’s help and let the lass brush her hair and plait it. By the time Jake came upstairs Alyson had tidied up, ordered more hot water for him, and donned her most becoming robe, of pale green silk.

Hearing the latch rattle, she said to the girl, “Thank you; you may go.”

Jake held the door open for the girl but fixed his gaze
on Alyson. “I like that robe,” he said, shutting the door and moving nearer.

He had not yet touched her, but the familiar tingling had begun the moment he’d opened the door.

He reached for her, but she eluded him, saying, “If you touch me, you’ll get no bath before you leave tomorrow. And your water will get cold.”

“Is it hot now?” When she nodded, he said, “Almost you tempt me, lass, but to bathe properly I’ll require assistance.”

She smiled, feeling daring. “I thought you might.”

“You’ll ruin that robe if you get it wet,” he said with a mischievous look.

“Get in the tub. I’ll fetch another—”

“Nay, Allie. We’ll take it off and put it aside. I want to look at you.”

He touched her sash. Heat rushed to her cheeks and spread elsewhere.

Jake saw the color suffuse her cheeks and neck. But, to his delight, she did not object when he removed her robe and cast it over a stool. She had plaited her hair, and he wanted to see it unbound. But that could wait. Hastily and without awaiting assistance, he got out of his clothes and stepped into the tub.

She scrubbed his back but refused when he suggested that she should scrub him all over. “You’ll do that faster yourself. Warm or not, this room is not cozy enough to be long without clothing, sir. If you mean to wash your hair, I’ll pour the rinse water for you. But I must put on another robe first or get into bed.”

“Nay, put on the green one again. I like it, the silk will keep you warm, and I can pour my own water whilst we talk. I like your father, lass.”

“Do you? I think he likes you, too. I fear that he’ll expect you to take over here, though,” she added, slipping into the robe. “He wearies quickly, and although he did seem more himself tonight, such vigor may vanish when he learns that you will not stay. He has missed having me to run things.”

“I think you are too quick to submit to your family’s demands, lass, and I own, I don’t understand that. You disagree easily enough with me. Why do you not tell them to stop expecting you to be always at their beck and bay?”

“You discuss things with me, Jake. When I disagree with you, you don’t make me feel guilty for doing so.”

“Is that what they do? Sakes, if I
were
to run things, I’d send all save your parents to perdition. At least you’ll be free of such demands when we do leave.”

“You don’t know them. They’ll visit
us
at the first opportunity.”

“I’ll forbid it, for now at least. They’ll expect you to obey your husband.”

“You will not forbid it,” she said. “One does not turn even an enemy from a Highland door, as you must know. I’ll welcome my family wherever I live. Faith, but I shall
need
them, because you will be off tending to your duties and savoring your freedom. I wager I’ll see less of
you
than I saw of Niall.”

With mock ferocity, he said, “Mind your tongue, lass. I dislike back-chat.”

“Do you, sir? You are ill-equipped just now to do much about it.”

“Mayhap I am,” he said. “But I dry quickly. And then, lassie mine…”

When he paused, Alyson’s nipples hardened and muscles contracted elsewhere, as the rest of her body tensed in its eagerness to test his challenge.

She could find no words. So she gazed at him silently, thinking that most tall men would look silly folded up in a tin tub. Jake did not, not at all.

When he stood, he looked magnificent.

“Hand me a towel, wench,” he said.

“Aye, Cap’n,” she replied without a blink.

His wonderful grin flashed then, and he laughed. He was still laughing when she tossed him the towel. Drying most of himself as he watched her, he stepped out of the tub, wrapped the towel round his waist, and took her in his arms.

She raised her face, inviting his kiss. Instead, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed.

“Now,” he said, laying her down against the pillows and dropping the towel, “you will learn to do as I say.”

She smiled invitingly. “Will I?”

“You will, or you’ll pay the consequences.” With that, leaving all the candles in the room alight, he slid into bed beside her and began to stroke her silk robe… all over, until she squirmed and begged him to do other things.

“Other things?” He quirked an eyebrow. “Tell me where you want me to touch you, sweetheart.”

“Kiss me.”

Slipping a hand under her robe, easing the silk off her
body inches at a time, he kissed places as he bared them, working his way down to the fork in her legs.

She grabbed him by the ears. “I want to kiss
you
now.”