Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

Acandle-mark and a half of rest in a warm room did much to revive Thora’s spirits. So did the fact that Aedan had been as good as his word. She’d been half-afraid he would press the matter of their sleeping arrangements further than he had.

She was being… difficult. Perhaps even a little unreasonable. She knew that. After all, she was the one who had insisted on the ‘married couple’ ruse. She shouldn’t be so hesitant about some of the things it would require, such as sharing a bed.

The problem was, she simply hadn’t thought about it. And she hadn’t shared a bed with anyone save her twin sister - and not even that, for many years. Not since they’d both passed into the first blush of womanhood. The idea of sharing a bed with a man made her stomach churn with nerves.

The idea of sharing her bed with Aedan Cameron, the handsome laird she was coming to admire, perhaps even desire, was even more terrifying. She didn’t dare let him be so close to her, not even to ensure their ruse was believable. She was terrified that if she did so, eventually her control over herself would slip. She would do or say something she shouldn’t.

At best, if that happened, she would cross a line that could never be erased - a line where she surrendered her virtue, or possibly her heart. At worst, she would do or say something that would reveal the lie of her identity to him. Any of those scenarios was unacceptable.

“I’m going tae speak tae Mac. Ye should use the time tae prepare fer the feast. We’ll be expected tae join the rest o’ the guests in a candle-mark or so.” Aedan’s low voice startled her out of her thoughts.

He was already dressed in the clothing he would wear to the feast - clean shirt, kilt, sash, high stockings and boots, with his hair tied neatly back. His sword belt was slung around his waist, knotted with the blue peace cords and the green and red supplementary cords that showed all that he intended no harm. It was customary, but it made Thora feel slightly uneasy.

Then again, she was sure that, like any other laird, he would have more knives than just his eating knife and his ceremonial boot dirk on his person. If worse came to worst, he was unlikely to be completely helpless.

He was also still waiting for her reply. “Aye. I’ll dae that.”

“I’ll return shortly.” He offered her a quick dip of the head as a courtesy, then slipped out the door. Thora waited until he was gone, then went to look through the dresses she’d brought.

Rhiannon had done a superb job of providing a number of dresses, from casual day wear to feasting gowns, all in Yule appropriate colors that suited Thora’s complexion. Even though she’d helped with a good part of the preparations, Thora was still moderately surprised at how much the seamstress had accomplished.

She chose a gown of pale green, embroidered with darker green leaves of holly and red berries around the cuffs and the hem. It wasn’t the fanciest gown in the chest, but it would do for the evening. She selected a clean chemise to go with it, then an underdress of a soft off-white, which would serve to highlight her pale skin and make the colors look more vivid.

The chemise and the underdress gave her no difficulty. The gown and the soft-sided corset that went with it, however… she didn’t realize until she was putting it on that it was meant to be laced across the back. And there was no one to help her.

Rhiannon had probably expected that she would have the help of a maid. However, with so many guests, there simply weren’t enough servants in the castle for every guest to have a servant assigned to them. Guests were supposed to have brought their own personal servants with them, or else made provisions not to need them. At least, she was willing to guess that would be Lachlan Ross’s way of thinking.

However, it was something she and Aedan hadn’t considered. Thora MacTavish wouldn’t think of such things - she was a village lass. And Aedan had never had cause to be concerned with it.

She was still trying to decide what to do about the matter when the door opened. Thora spun, and just managed to catch the top edge of the gown before it could fall. Fortunately, it was only Aedan, returning from his visit with Mac.

“The men are fine, makin’ themselves at home in the barracks. Mac’s with the other manservants, comfortable enough in servant quarters. ‘Tis a bit close, but nae unbearable, from what the men have said.” Aedan paused, his eyes drifting over her state of undress. “Are ye well?”

Thora blushed. “I cannae… the gown laces… well, I’m only a village lass. I dinnae wear gowns like this! And I didnae think o’ needin’ help, fer I’ve never needed it before.”

“What dae ye need?”

“Help lacing it up the back. The underdress isnae problem, but the corset and the overdress… are difficult.”

Aedan’s eye gleamed with soft amusement. “I can see that.”

Thora flushed harder and resisted the urge to throw a brush. “Well, I dinnae have a maid tae help me, so… will ye assist me or nae?”

“Calm down, lass. I’ll help.” Aedan huffed out a breath that might have been a laugh. Still, he did step around behind her, and a second later she felt a hand on the laces of the corset, slowly working them tighter.

Thora exhaled a sigh of relief. She’d been worried that she’d need to change gowns or send for a maid. She was oddly shy about doing either.

The thought lasted until a hand touched her bare back.

The sight of Thora, half dressed in a green gown that brought out the sharp brightness of her eyes, made Aedan’s mouth go dry.

He’d covered it with humor as best he could, but there was no denying that the sight of her pale, porcelain skin and slim body - even the small glimpses underneath her unfastened dress - was enough to send heat surging through his veins and blood straight to his groin.

It was an effort to walk over to stand behind her, with his arousal barely hidden by his kilt. It was fortunate that Thora was preoccupied by the issue of getting dressed, or she’d surely have noticed.

It was a complication he hadn’t thought of, and one he wished he had. Ladies often needed maids to help them dress. Thora hadn’t mentioned it, so he hadn’t given it any consideration. Now he felt a fool for having trapped them in a situation that promised to be uncomfortable for him, if not both of them.

He began to work the laces of the soft corset tighter, cursing in his head that the underdress was a low-backed one, designed for both winter, and the more revealing gowns of summer. It left much of her back bare, and the soft skin beckoned him to caress it, to stroke it and see if it was as silken-smooth as it looked.

But he feared that, for all his self-control, if he touched her once, he’d want more. He didn’t dare risk it.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment to try and will himself under control. The moment of inattention was his undoing.

His hand slipped on the laces, fumbled, and wound up caressing a long line down the curve of her spine, almost as if he’d done it deliberately, or been guided by fate.

Thora yelped and spun around. “Ye lout!”

Before he had time to protest that it had been an accident, her right hand connected with his cheek in a stinging slap that rocked him back in surprise. Caught off guard, he stumbled, and hands scrabbling for anything he could use to break his fall.

He wound up grabbing the fabric of her dress. There was a tug, a flurry of cloth, and another yelp from Thora, then the two of them tumbled to the ground in a knot of fabric, limbs, and indignant words that he was fairly certain neither of them should use in polite company.

When the confusion stopped, Aedan found himself lying on the ground, Thora sprawled partially on top of him. His buttocks and one arm hurt, where he’d tried to catch himself. But that was far from the least concerning thing.

His arousal, only partially erect before, was now painfully hard, and not at all helped by the feel of Thora’s arm and chest across his hips and groin.

Worse, from the way her eyes widened and red bloomed across her cheeks as she lifted her head, she was very much aware of his body’s reaction to her. And his desire.

The third thing he noticed, as she tried to scramble away from him, was that her clothing had slipped, baring her soft white breasts to his gaze. Firelight danced over her creamy skin and rose-colored nipples, which did nothing for his state of arousal.

Thora noticed where his gaze had drifted, and gasped, her cheeks flushing so deeply it looked painful as she yanked the fabric back up to cover herself. “Ye…”

“’Twas an accident. I dinnae have much experience with helping a lass dress.” Aedan spoke quickly, hoping to forestall an outburst that might bring someone to investigate what was happening. “Me thoughts slipped, and my hand did too.”

“Ye say that… but…” Her eyes drifted to his erect manhood, before she jerked her gaze away.

“’Tis a man’s natural reaction tae a beautiful woman. I cannae help it.” Aedan levered himself carefully off the floor, wincing slightly as the movement made him more aware of his aching groin. “Daesnae mean I intend tae act on it.”

Though I’ll either need tae attend tae it, or tak’ a short walk in Lachlan’s gardens afore the feast if I dinnae want tae embarrass meself.

He offered Thora his hand. “I promise ye lass, I’m nay threat tae yer virtue.” Then, because he couldn’t help teasing her, just a bit. “Nae unless ye want me tae be, that is.”

“That’s nae funny.” Thora glared, but she did take his hand and allow him to help her to her feet. “And I still need help with me dress.”

“And I’ll still help ye, nae need tae fret so much.” He offered her a smile and an upraised hand. “On me honor, lass, I’ll dae nay more than help ye with the laces. Any touch I give ye will be an accident, and nay plan o’ mine.”

“All right.” She nodded and turned her back to him.

Aedan noted with interest that the flush extended over her shoulders and down her back as well. He was almost curious to see how far the blush could go, but he reined himself in and focused on his task.

He managed the corset and was halfway through lacing up the gown itself when a disquieting thought occurred to him.

Thora… it wasn’t unreasonable that a village lass would have difficulty with a gown like this. But wasn’t that the sort of thing she and Rhiannon would have spoken about, when arranging for her clothing? The seamstress could have repaired the matter with ease, had it been brought to her attention.

So why hadn’t one or both of them noticed the obvious concern?

And Thora’s reaction to his seeing her… it was true they weren’t actually lovers, but even so…

How was it that a village lass with, by her own account, several siblings, at least one or two of whom had spouses or lovers as well, maintained such a high degree of modesty? Most village maidens of Aedan’s acquaintance weren’t so shy - not even the ones that were still maidens, rather than the more forward women who were known to give easily to men.

It was impractical, if not impossible, that a lass with a large family in a cottage would have reached her current age without being caught in various states of undress by accident. It was something that happened, even in so large a place as Cameron Castle.

For that matter, he’d rarely seen a village lass with such pale, soft skin. And her hands had few, if any, calluses.

Part of that might be explained by her role as a ‘seeress’. Presumably a woman the whole village credited with prophetic visions would be encouraged to engage in work that would support her ‘gift’. But surely, she hadn’t been that sheltered?

Then there was the slap, and the way she argued with him. Even the boldest of village girls would never slap a laird with so little provocation. The arguing was beneficial to their ruse, giving the appearances of comfortable familiarity that might otherwise be absent, but even so… she was far more comfortable arguing with him, defying him, and reacting to him, than he would have expected.

It was tempting to ignore it, to wave away the concerns, but Aedan had never been one to ignore warnings his mind gave him. A warrior and laird who ignored his own intuition didn’t last for very long.

His intuition was screaming that there was something wrong. Something about Thora’s story didn’t fit with the way she acted, the way she presented herself. However, try as he might, he didn’t know enough to understand what was wrong, or what it might mean.

It was a mystery, but not one he was going to solve immediately. However, thinking about the matter had cooled his arousal and allowed his erection to subside. With a sigh, Aedan finished lacing up the dress. “Ye’re done. And we should be heading down to dinner.”

He offered her his arm and put his suspicions as far out of his mind as he could for the moment.