Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

A edan was in the middle of preparing for bed when the knock came. He scowled at the door. Disturbances at the door to his bedchamber were never welcome, given how they intruded on the little time he had to himself.

The knock came again, signaling that whoever it was would not be content to leave him in peace. With a snarl of frustration, Aedan stalked across to open the heavy oak panel, heedless of his disheveled state and his missing clothing. If he upset some denizen of the castle or embarrassed a maid, so much the better. They might think twice about disturbing him in the future.

The disturbance however, was not a maid, or a Council Elder, or his second-in-command. Upon opening the door, Aedan could honestly say this disturbance was one of the more intriguing and inspiring disturbances he’d ever found outside his bedroom door.

Thora MacTavish was standing outside his bedroom, the laces on the bodice of her borrowed shift undone, barefoot, with her hair loose and a shy smile on her face. “Me laird.”

Aedan blinked, too startled for words, as she sidled closer and attempted what was no doubt meant to be a seductive and inviting smile. She was a bonny enough lass, but her face was so flushed, it was clear she had no idea what she was doing. “Miss MacTavish.”

“Could I… come in? I’ve something I wish tae… discuss… with ye.”

The tone was obviously meant to be breathless and sultry, to tempt him, but her blush and her tone sounded more hesitant than anything else. In fact, she looked as if she were one word away from turning and bolting down the hallway.

The proper thing to do would be to assume that she’d had a cup or two more of mulled wine than was good for her, turn her away with as much courtesy as he could manage, and spare them both any further embarrassment.

But Aedan wasn’t in the mood for propriety. Nor did he honestly think she was drunk. Her eyes were too clear, her awkwardness too evident, for her to be acting in the foolishness caused by overindulgence in wine. That made her presence at his door rather more intriguing than it would have been otherwise. That she would come to him like this, after the way their last encounter had transpired, made him curious.

Aedan stepped back. “Come in then, if ye wish. Though I’ll hope yer nae trying tae tell me any more stories o’ dreams and plots against me clan.”

“Nay, me laird. ‘Tis naething like that…” Thora stepped into his room. “’Tis… I am embarrassed tae admit…” She blushed further and looked away. “’Twas the only way I could think o’ tae gain yer attention.”

Aedan raised an eyebrow. “Gain me attention?”

“Aye. Ye’re well thought o’, and handsome, but bein’ the laird… I didnae think ye’d look twice at a village lass like me, nae unless I did something tae make meself more noticeable.” The fall of her dark hair trailed across her shoulder like fine silk, begging to be touched.

“Ye thought I wouldnae notice ye? And why should it matter if I notice ye or nae?” He stepped closer.

“Because I ken ye’re a good man, and I… I want… that is…” Her cheeks were scarlet, even as she raised her head and looked him in the eye. “I want ye.”

“Dae ye now? And when we’re strangers tae one another?”

“Aye. I saw ye in the village as ye passed by. Ye were… dutiful, stern, but nae unkind. There’s few men like ye. Or so handsome.” She reached out and laid a hand on his chest. “I want tae ken such a man, and offer ye the comfort ye surely deserve. I realize ‘tis forward o’ me…”

“Forward indeed. But why come tae me with tales o’ seer’s dreams and dangers?”

“Tae make ye see me. I’m sure ye’ve nae end o’ maids willing tae grace yer bed. I wanted ye tae truly see me.” She offered him a hesitant smile, and a tilt of her head. “’Twas also a test o’ sorts, tae see if ye were the man I thought ye. And ye were - kind enough tae give shelter and succor tae a stranger ye thought more than a little mad.”

Why she thought any man wouldn’t look twice at her was a mystery. Her delicate, ethereal features and luminous blue eyes would catch any man’s attention, and set fire to his blood. Even as off-putting as he’d found her earlier insistence on the danger to his clan didn’t prevent Aedan from feeling desire.

He lifted a hand to trace her cheek, startled by the shiver she gave. “Dae ye truly want me, or just a laird, fer the chance tae boast about it?”

“Only ye. Nay other.”

There was perfect sincerity in her eyes, and in her voice, even as shy and uncertain as she seemed. Whatever had prompted her to come to his castle, to brave the storm outside to reach him, she was speaking the truth when she said she would choose no other.

Warmth filled his belly, heat racing through his veins at the realization that this beautiful woman had come to him, and him alone, like an angel offering a blessing at his doorstep. Or perhaps she was a fey lass offering temptation, to drag him away Underhill, where a century would pass in a night. In that moment, Aedan didn’t care.

He carded a hand through her shining black hair, soft as he’d expected, then tipped her head up. “Then ye have me.”

He kissed her, capturing her soft lips with his own, and let himself drown in the taste of sweet wine and spices, and the scent of heather and honey.

For the first second, as Laird Cameron’s mouth fastened over hers, Thora entirely lost the ability to think, or to breathe. Her world narrowed to the firm, demanding mouth on hers, the hand on her face and the arm that pulled her flush against Aedan Cameron’s muscular body.

She’d never kissed a man, and certainly never felt such heat and passion. Her body seemed to come alive with sparks, fire darting through her veins. Her senses were filled with Aedan - the scent of leather and smoked cedar that hung around him, the taste of mead and fresh bread and roasted venison on his lips, both accompanied by a wilder, masculine taste and scent that was wholly his own.

His free hand caressed her back, then slid under the collar of her opened shift to glide across bare skin. The rough feel of calluses trailing over the soft skin just above her breast made Thora shiver, and not at all with fear or distaste.

She broke the kiss with a gasp, knowing right then that Aedan Cameron was a very dangerous man - not to her safety, but to her virtue. His desire for her was obvious in the arousal that showed clearly under his kilt, and the sight of it, along with what showed of his muscular chest through his unlaced shirt, awoke an answering desire in her. Her skin tingled, and every part of her wanted nothing more than to lean closer, to return his caresses with her own, and feel his hands once more on her body.

Of all the things she had considered dangerous about this plan, her own attraction to the laird of Clan Cameron was one that had never crossed her mind.

She didn’t dare let him touch her again. If she did, she would be lost, and both her plan and her virtue would be compromised beyond recall.

She smiled up at him, or tried to, and stepped coyly back as he reached for her. “Och, me laird, and what’s the hurry?”

“I thought ye wanted me.”

“And so I dae, me braw laird, but there’s nae need tae rush.” She took a deep breath and tugged her laces free a little more. “Will ye nae tak’ some mead with me, tae soothe the heat? If I’m tae only have one chance with ye, I wouldnae want passion and fire tae end it tae soon.”

“If ‘tis what ye wish, little vixen.” His smile was indulgent. “But ken, I willnae be kept waiting long, or I’ll think yer playin’ me fer a fool, and ye’ll nae like the consequences of that.”

A darker tone entered his voice, and Thora suppressed a shiver of apprehension. She knew, even without the gift of her sight whispering warnings in her mind, that he was serious. He would not appreciate being made a fool of. Not for the first time, she wished there were another way to make him listen to her.

Thora made her way over to the jug of mead on the side table, and poured out two goblets. The right-hand one received the sleeping potion. The left, a simple blend of herbs that offered a sweet scent.

“And what is that, little vixen?”

Thora smiled at him and held out the right-hand cup. “’Tis a potion the village women o’ my home make, tae ensure a man and a woman have nae regrets in the morning. I’m told ‘tis very potent… and works well.”

She accompanied the words with a tilt of her head, like she’d seen some of the maids do when they were teasing their paramours, then stepped toward him, letting her hips sway the way Ava did when she wanted to catch Kai’s attention.

“Then I hope the women o’ yer village werenae exaggerating.” He took the cup with no sign of suspicion - likely because he’d seen her put the ‘potion’ in both cups, and smirked at her, before drinking deeply.

Thora sipped her own mead with a smile of triumph. She’d feared she’d have to coax him into drinking, perhaps even sip from the cup herself to allay his suspicions, but it seemed her gambit - and perhaps the heat of desire - had worked their intended magic.

Within minutes, Aedan’s cup was empty. Thora made a show of finishing her own drink, all the while watching him closely. Hopefully he isnae one o’ those men fer whom sleep tisanes work slowly, or nae at all. Domhnall is one such, and I wouldnae be surprised if all lairds were.

Luck, or fate, however, were with her. She’d only just finished her drink when Aedan blinked and wavered on his feet.

Thora moved to his side at once, her expression of worry entirely unfeigned. “Me laird? Are ye well? Are ye fevered? Ye look flushed.”

“I…” Aedan blinked, shaking his head as if he were a dog trying to shake water from his coat. “I dinnae ken… the world ‘tis spinning…” He tried to walk forward, but staggered. Thora caught him, wincing slightly at his weight. “I dinnae understand…”

“Och, ye must be ill. Or else… I’m terribly sorry, me laird. If I had kent the potion would be so strong, I wouldnae have poured so much!”

“I… it shouldnae…” His eyes were turning glassy, his speech less distinct by the moment. If she didn’t move soon, he would be unconscious, and she would be unable to shift him from his quarters.

“Come, me laird. I’ll tak’ ye tae the healer. She’ll soon ken what ails ye, and have ye on the mend.” Thora collected his shoes and urged him to sit in the chair so she could put them on his feet. A cloak against the weather went over his clothing, and then she helped him to his feet.

“Come, me laird. Come. The sooner we see the healer, the sooner ye’ll be well again.”

Drugged and dazed as he was, Aedan needed no more urging to stumble toward the door and stagger through it, then down the hall toward the main entry. He seemed not to remember that he was the laird, and could call the healer to attend to him, which was a blessing. Thora kept him upright and moving with a shoulder under his arm, and a steady stream of soothing words.

On the way, they encountered a servant who stopped and looked at them, rather startled.

“Me lord is feeling a little unwell and needs a breath of fresh air. He had a little too much of the whisky, if ye ken what I mean,” she smiled, gesturing bringing a cup to her mouth and winking her eye. “Could ye be so kind as tae help me tae the courtyard, and if necessary, I will take him tae the healer if the air isnae enough?” The servant chuckled, nodded and helped them down the stairs. If Aedan noticed her lie, he didn’t have enough wits about him to comment on it as they descended the stairs, stopped briefly to collect a cloak and shoes for Thora - and her travel pack - and made their way out into the courtyard. She told the same story tae the guards at the door and they moved to the side to let her and the servant pass.

The worst of the rain and wind had passed, though the rain still fell steadily, and the air was damp and chill. Thora pulled the hood of the cloak over Aedan’s head and told the servant she was fine to take him from there. The cool air had revived him a little, but he was still weaving like a man blind drunk as they made their way across the open expanse, and he didn’t notice when she carefully diverted their steps from the healer’s cottage to the stable.

He did, however, notice when they entered the stable. Thora supposed it was unsurprising that he might be roused by the sound of horses and the scent of hay, when he’d been expecting the herb-perfumed air of the healer’s hut.

Aedan blinked and looked around, trying to get his feet steady under him without much success. “Why… stables… what’re ye…?”

His words were slurred, his movements completely uncoordinated. Thora judged he was only minutes away from complete unconsciousness.

“Dinnae fret. ‘Tis naething tae worry about.” She soothed him gently and guided him toward the roan she’d chosen earlier. The stable boy was waiting, and the horse was saddled and bridled, as promised. The lad blinked as she led Aedan over. “Is he alright?”

“Me husband’s had too much tae drink again, like I said…” Thora eyed the saddle. She wasn’t tall enough to sling Aedan over it or into it. “Help me get him intae the saddle, me lad.”

The lad giggled, then nodded. “All right, but remember what I said about the horse.” He reached out and helped Thora push Aedan’s limp body into the saddle and in the low light luckily did not notice it was his laird.

Sometime during their discussion, Aedan had passed out, or was so close to it that it didn’t matter. Together, Thora and the stable hand got him more or less seated in the saddle, then the boy held him braced while Thora mounted, and helped her tie him in place so he wouldn’t fall. It wasn’t the most comfortable arrangement by far, but it would serve for the time being.

Thora adjusted the hood of her and Aedan’s cloak, so their faces were hidden in shadow, then guided the horse out of the stables to the gate. No one stopped her, for which she was grateful. Anyone looking too close would have realized what she was doing, and then she’d have been in the dungeons for sure. However, the guards seemed to recognize her cloak, and one of them even chuckled as she went past. “Merrick be drunk again? I dinnae envy ye, lass.”

Her ruse had worked, and better than she’d anticipated. By sheer good fortune - or perhaps the kindness and whim of Fate - they made it through the gates and the town beyond without a single person making any effort to stop them. Most were inside, out of the weather, but even those few brave souls who were going about their errands ignored them completely.

During her journey to the castle, Thora had happened upon an abandoned woodsman’s hut. Once they were past the village, she turned the horse in that direction. The hut would be a good place for the discussion she needed to have with Aedan, and she was fairly certain there was a chair or a cot she could bind him to. Otherwise, he’d find it far too easy to overpower her and make his escape.

She wasn’t looking forward to the confrontation she knew was coming. However, she was determined that Aedan Cameron would listen to her and do as she asked, no matter what measures it took to convince him.