Chapter 8

Chapter

Eight

" Y ou are back! I am so happy!"

She did not care that the brim of his hood was dripping raindrops onto her face. Laura wanted Altair to kiss her again. Their blazing hot parting embrace had been preying on her mind with a taunting, teasing frequency. And how dangerous could another little kiss be anyway?

He hesitated. "As tempted as I am to taste those sweet lips o' yers, lass, I dinnae ken how many eyes might be watching us."

She adored the way his mouth tilted up on one side with that rueful, quirky smile of his. Even though the clouds hid the sky and the mists swirled around them, Laura saw his teeth flash briefly. It reminded her of a predator when it decides not to eat the prey. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she declared. "I don't care. I am not ashamed."

His brows lowered. "Not ashamed o' what, Sonsie?" When she could not answer, he laughed and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I am a brute for pressing ye with questions as ye stand in the rain. Am I welcome inside?"

For some strange reason, Laura did not want Altair to enter the cottage. She did not want to explain him to strangers, to those who did not know or who could never understand the true qualities of the wonderful man underneath the thick, black wool cloak.

"Bide a short while, Altair. I will go fetch my cloak and the plaid you lent me. We can return to the castle immediately."

"And how would that look to yer nanny if we were to plooter awa' in the grayness of the dawn? Nay, lass, I must put on me lairdly manners and soothe yer guardian's fears. Ye cannae keep me in the dark forever."

Draping his arm around her shoulders, Altair pushed his way through the door after announcing himself in a loud voice.

Agnes was awake. She sat on the bolster by the fire with her arisaid wrapped tightly over her body. "I would rise to give ye me curtsy, Laird, but I am in no condition to greet visitors."

Altair waved his hand in greeting. "Dinnae fash. I'm golden. Is the auld nan awake?"

With an amused smile, Agnes shook her head. "I gave her a sleeping draft to help her relax. The elder does nae like oor Highland thunder and lightning."

"Well, it's nae like she'll be sticking aroond long enough to get used to it," Altair shrugged his shoulders in his usual nonchalant fashion. "Can ye watch over the lass while I fetch the pony from the hostelry?"

The healer nodded. Laura had to stand by without complaint as the laird ducked his head under the door lintel, stomping out into the rain again.

He had left a trail of tinted water on the flagstone floors behind him. Grasping a rushlight from the mantel over the grate, Laura bent her head to look at the tinted water more closely. "That is strange. I could swear it is red, but the runoff water must be absorbing the color from the fire," she mused out loud to herself.

"‘Tis blood mixed with the rain," Agnes said. "His foes must have died with much of it shed. Their blood splatter soaked into the laird's clothes as his sword cut them doon. The trail of blood must go halfway up the mountain."

Laura gasped, jumping back from the wet trail and almost dropping the rushlight. "Th-that is terrible. Lawks a mercy—human blood! How can he act so normal after all that slaughter?"

"Is he nae doin' what ye asked him to do?"

Plumping down on the stool, Laura tucked her trembling hands between her round thighs to stop them from shaking. "Yes, but it is one thing to say something, and another thing entirely to see it done for real."

Agnes chuckled. "Altair Sterling is nothing if nae thorough when it comes to killing, Maiden. But I have to ask ye—are nae a-feared of the other thing he is good at?"

"What could possibly be worse than killing people?" Laura replied in an irritated tone.

"Getting young and innocent maidens to fall in love with him unbidden. His handsome face and devastating charm are as lethal as the sword he carries behind his back."

The drumming rain was relentless on the slate tiles of the roof. The cottage must have been the sweetest place to live when it was first built. Laura noticed the sound of trickling drips coming from the other room and concluded it must have been a bedchamber once. It made her sad to imagine the bedchamber was once filled with romance and love, but now it lay empty. Washed clean in the rain, with only wisps of cobwebs moving in the chill breezes.

Flipping back one braid and tilting up her chin, Laura prepared to defend the laird. "Laird Sterling is not dangerous. That is just a malicious rumor. Altair is far too notorious around these parts for any girl to even dare to look at him. I mean, the poor man has to do all of his business in the middle of the night so as not to scare folks. It is ridiculous."

Agnes smirked. "When ye came here, ye were in two minds aboot him. Now ye have only one thing on yer mind, dearie. What changed?"

Laura felt cornered. She was not sophisticated in the art of wordplay, so she was not sure exactly what Agnes was saying. And she did not want to insult her hostess either by jumping to a conclusion. But it sounded very much as if the healer were suggesting that she, the chaste and well-behaved Maid Laura Raleigh of Humberside Manor, wanted Altair to take her precious virginity!

It irritated Laura that her heart was on display for Agnes to see. "Laird Altair has earned my good opinion, Dame. Not only has he cleared the road of danger, but he was kind enough to give me shelter."

"So ye dinnae mind that he cleared the road so that ye can continue yer journey once yer nanny is well enough to walk?"

Tears stung behind her eyelids as Laura fought back her tumultuous emotions. "M-my father is not a wealthy man. I must do as he bade me. The only dowry I can offer my future husband is my virtue."

Flinging herself over to the window, Laura sat there staring out into the black night. No hint of morning light was able to penetrate the thick clouds. The stars and moon were completely obscured. Altair's safe return had made Laura feel so elated, and now she was miserable. As the damp morning air slowly turned gray outside and the rain pitter-pattered to a halt, the laird returned to the cottage, leading the pony behind him.

He did not come in this time. Haling them from the muddy path, Altair bid Laura come out. With a smile beaming over her face, she ran to put on her cloak. "Thank you, Dame Agnes. I know I am leaving Nurse Mildred in good hands." She pressed some of the laird's coins into the healer's hand.

"Ye dinnae have to go back up the beinn with him, Laura," the healer reminded her. "Ye are welcome to stay here, with yer nanny to watch over ye."

Not daring to look in her eyes in case Agnes asked her to explain the reason behind her refusal, Laura shook her head.

When Agnes came to the door to watch him place Laura gently onto the saddle, Altair asked her when he could expect the nanny to be well enough to walk. The healer smirked and waved her hand. "Come back tomorrow. I will cut a stick for the auld woman to use as a crutch, and I will bind her foot fast so that she can bear weight on it."

Neither of them commented on the abrupt way the news was delivered. Altair's face was expressionless. Laura, however, was not so good at hiding her emotions. Before she could duck her head to hide her face beneath her hood, Agnes saw the young woman's eyes flood with tears.

As far as Laura was concerned, it may as well have still been raining, as the mountain pass faded behind the curtain of her tears.

Laura seemed to revive when they passed the gates of the fortress, and the sound of pony hooves clopping on the cobblestones echoed off the crumbling walls. The Sassenach maiden had sat in thoughtful silence all the way up the mountain pass. Altair watched as she pushed back the hood of her cloak and looked around. Her face was wan and her eyes red rimmed.

"Did ye sleep so little last night?" he asked her.

Sighing, Laura hid her face behind her hands. "Do I look dreadful? I-I am afraid I did not sleep as well as I would have liked last night, Laird. You are right."

Stepping closer, he pulled her foot out of the stirrup gently, but he did not let it go afterward. Inspecting the ghillies, Altair grinned. "Ye're dressed like a true Highland lassie with yer new shoes an' that arisaid around yer shoulders, Sonsie."

If she was shy about him touching her leg so intimately, Laura said nothing against it. "I suppose it is a good thing that I learn to dress like a Highland lassie, considering what my end destination is going to be," she reminded him, staring at his face closely to see what effect her words were having on him.

Altair refused to be drawn into giving an opinion. Whatever decision Laura made, she must come to it on her own free will. "Ye've got the laces o' ye shoes all fankled. Point yer toes at me and I'll sort it." There was nowhere else for Laura to place her foot, so he pushed it against his chest and set about untangling the laces of her left ghillie. Altair showed her how to crisscross the thin leather thongs, and then he took great pains to tighten the shoe around Laura's ankle. Her stockings were sheer, made of thin silk; they were probably bought before her mother died and the Raleigh fortune was still intact. He could see one or two places where she had carefully darned the small holes in them, and his estimation of the bonny Sassenach rose even higher. She would make that lucky Donaldsson lad a right goodwife. Stiffening his resolve, Altair forced himself to embrace the inevitable.

Clasping her waist with his two strong hands, Altair lifted Laura off the saddle as if she were a featherweight. When he set her back on her feet, he replied carelessly, "I'm right tired as well after all that plooterin' up and doon the beinn durin' the lashin'. What d'ye say to us having a wee lie doon?"

Her eyes lit up like a dry wood fire at his words. "I- I beg your pardon, Laird, but what do you mean?"

Grinning, he pushed the side door open and waited for her to walk in front of him. "Plooter? It's how we describe it when some poor soul has to jump over puddles or blither through the mud."

For the first time, he saw a flicker of irritation in her dark eyes. "Do not taunt me!" Laura lowered her voice so that the Berensons could not overhear her. "You know I was referring to that part about us lying down together."

Her hand reached out and gripped his wrist. He could feel the strength of her passion in the way her fingernails dug into him. Had she deliberately pressed herself so close to him? Laura's eyes blazed up at him from her diminutive height. There was no question of him taking a step back—not when her deliciously deep bosom was lightly rubbing against his midriff.

Altair felt his body reacting in such a way that made the breath catch in his throat. This woman had changed the way he liked to play his games. It might have been countless decades since he had tumbled a willing serving wench into his bed, but the sensation Laura caused to rise inside him could not be compared to those old feelings. He was completely exhilarated by her— because he knew that behind that temptingly curvaceous body lay a kind heart. This knowledge made the earth seem to shift under his feet, while his heart took flight and soared.

"I'll nae deny that the memory of yer lips lies heavy on me mind, Sonsie," Altair's voice was gruff as he tried to make sense of the turbulence in the air between them. "What d'ye say to us dining together later on? Ye must be in nae doubt that I find yer conversation as stimulating as I do the rest o' ye."

That made her smile so radiantly that he was lured into sweeping her into his arms and pressing hot kisses onto her sweetly plump mouth. Laura's body yielded to his embrace with feminine willingness. He felt her arms sliding around his neck as she stood on tiptoes, as if she wanted their hearts to align and syncopate together.

For one glorious moment, he imagined lifting her up into his arms and carrying her into his bedchamber. It hardly mattered that he was filthy from his night outdoors, rank with the sweat and blood of a hard fought battle. All he could focus on was how it might feel to spread those buxom thighs as wide as they would go before burying that most ardent part of him inside her.

As if she could read the warm thoughts swirling around in his mind, Laura ran her fingers through his thick, dark hair and gave the roots a hard tug. The passionate action nearly drove him to destruction.

Gasping, he released the maiden and stepped back. "I will see ye again at dinner, Sonsie."

Striding to the tower with his black cloak billowing behind him, the Laird of Sterling Fortress retreated from battle for the first time in his life. He dared not look back in case he lost his nerve. Never before had Altair been so desperate to make a woman his wife in deed, if not in word.

Stumbling down the kitchen, Laura asked Mistress Berenson to send her sons up to the laird's tower with washing water.

"How much of the goat meat is left?" Laura wanted to know.

"Nae enough to matter," the housekeeper told her. "But we can make a nice broth with the bones."

Laura wrinkled her nose. "It is my last night at the castle, Mistress. I leave on the morrow. Laird Sterling has asked for dinner to be pushed back so that we can sleep. When he wakes, I want him to be well satisfied with the dinner laid out for him."

The two women discussed the preparation the housekeeper could do while Laura caught a nap in her bedchamber. "I'll be sad to see ye leave, dearie," Mistress Berenson sniffed. "Somehow, I got it into me head that ye might be here for keeps. The master has got a real spring in his step since he found ye on the mountainside."

Laura could think of nothing to say back to this. "I thank you for toiling away while I sleep, Mistress." She finished the stale bannock the housekeeper gave Laura to break her fast. "Please wake me at noon. I will help you bake and roast the rest of the dinner."

Step by weary step, Laura ascended to her chamber, her mind churning over how much she wanted to continue climbing the staircase all the way up to Altair's tower.

Pushing open the door to the bedchamber, she got a surprise. An eagle was perched on the bedpost, preening its feathers and winking at her with its glowing amber eyes. The great bird watched her disrobe and climb under the covers, never flinching or making a sound. The window shutter must have blown open during the storm last night and the eagle came in for shelter.

"I have made up my mind, you know." Laura whispered to the bird in a tired voice as she pummeled her pillow into a more comfortable shape. "I am going to spend tonight with Altair. Only once I have done that will I have the strength to continue my weary journey."