Page 28 of Kilted Seduction
“I… I… I cannae tell ye.”
“Then dinnae. It doesnae matter. There’s an oath between us. I’ll keep me word, and I expect ye’ll keep yers - even if ‘tis only because ye believe in such powers. But I’ll nae be mocked about being a ‘weak little lairdling’ by a lass whose nay more used tae hardship than I am. And mayhap nae as familiar with it.”
The words stung, and Thora jolted to her feet before she could think about it, no longer fully hidden by the screen. “Ye dinnae ken aught about me!”
“Very little, I’ll own it. But I ken enough. And…” Another cold smirk crossed his face. “I’ll wager I’ve seen more o’ ye than any other man since ye were born.”
She was still naked. And wet. And her hair was doing nothing at all to hide anything. Thora gasped and hurried to cover herself, cursing that she only had two hands, and smallish ones at that.
“Dinnae bother. ‘Tis past time I joined the other men in the Hall. I’ll leave ye tae yer bath in peace.” His eyes flicked over her. “And stop bein’ so shy, lass. I’ve seen a fair number o’ naked women in me life… ye’ve naething I’ve nae seen before on other lasses.”
He turned and was gone before she could decide how to respond - and whether she was more offended by his words or flattered by the fact that she’d seen evidence of his lie before he left.
A draft made her shiver, and Thora scrambled for her towel. She no longer wanted a bath. Besides, Aedan wasn’t the only one who needed to join the other guests to keep up appearances.
She just had to find a dress she could put on without too much trouble. She was fairly certain Rhiannon had packed several.
Thora took a deep breath, then turned to the wardrobe to choose a dress. Something appropriate for the ‘shy young village lass, Thora MacTavish’.
She had a role to play, and no matter how disconcerting Aedan Cameron’s actions and words were, she could not allow herself to falter.
Aedan grimaced as he made his way to the hall where the men were gathering. He hadn’t lied to Thora - he knew quite well what a woman’s body looked like, and felt like under his touch, but he hadn’t been entirely truthful either.
Thora was a beautiful lass, possessed of an innate grace that enhanced the effect of her dark hair and pale skin. He’d rarely seen a lass so bonny and seeing her naked in the bath had left him with difficulty walking.
Deliberately, he turned his thoughts to the gathering ahead. The morning was meant for social rounds, the men gathered in the hall, the women in the solar, or the library, or the sewing room. It was a time for simple interactions, rather like mornings at the Highland Gatherings, which lairds used for private conversations and strengthening alliances or bargaining for better position.
Aedan wasn’t looking forward to it at all. He’d never been comfortable at such things, and he doubted it was going to be any more pleasant now, when half the lairds were likely to have availed themselves of the season’s good cheer and Lachlan’s mulled wine.
He was one of the last to arrive and joined the table of about half-a-dozen lairds. In addition to himself and Lachlan Ross, there was Donovan Munroe of Clan Munroe, Conall Urquart - the heir to Clan Urquart - whose father was too old and illto travel, Terion MacKenzie - by far the most powerful and influential laird present, Arthur Sutherland of Clan Sutherland, and Kendrick MacDonell of Clan MacDonell.
All of them knew each other well, and all of them were allies - of a sort. Aedan himself only shared borders with MacKenzie, a small portion of the northern border with Sutherland, and a small village that formed a neutral meeting point between his lands and those of Sutherland, MacKenzie, and Ross. The other clan territories were more east and south, and mostly separated from his own by the wide swathe of land MacKenzie held.
Of those assembled, Conall and Kendrick were the closest to his age, and in terms of seniority as laird, he approximately stood in the middle of the group, with Ross, Sutherland and MacKenzie preceding him, and Monroe, MacDonell, and Urquart as his juniors. Though, as Conall was not yet laird, he was the lowest ranked and least powerful of them all. Aedan didn’t envy him, for he could remember well when he’d been in that position. It wasn’t a comfortable position to be in, when sitting at the table with a man like Lachlan Ross.
Kendrick was the first to greet him. “Laird Cameron! We were just talking about ye.”
“Aye. Aedan - ye dinnae mind? We’re all equals, and there’s little point tae standin’ on formality, is there lad?” Terion gave him a wide smile and a clout on the back. It was a friendly gesture, but the strength behind it was a good reminder of how the elder laird had held his territory for so long.
“I’ve nay reason tae mind.” Aedan picked up a flagon of mulled wine and poured himself a cup. “But ye said ye were speakin’ o’ me?”
“Aye. Wonderin’ if ye’d got over yer chill yester-eve enough tae tak’ proper advantage o’ havin’ such a bonny lass as yer wife.” Conall smirked at him. The young man looked as if he’d had a flagon of wine on his own, if the red in his cheeks and the loose, almost lazy movement of his body was any indication. “Faith, but there’s a lass who could bring a dead man back tae life, I’m thinkin’, were she o’ a mind.”
The men went on to make inappropriate remarks and crude jokes about their wives and women in general. Aedan felt his stomach clench as he listened. He’d heard guards boasting before, and knew that he’d done his fair share, when drunk or caught in the warm haze of confident well-being that accompanied a round of good lovemaking. But the conversation now seemed lewd and vulgar to him - uncouth.
A tavern wench or a willing maid was one thing to speak about - for them, the act of giving pleasure was a pleasure in turn, or a matter of livelihood, and their reputations suffered nothing in being spoken of. In fact, some of them liked their men to boast, as it meant more coin and more pleasure for them. But wives, and the privacy of the marriage bed…
“Och, Aedan, ye’ve been fair silent. Surely ye’ve thoughts o’ yer own on the matter.” Conall elbowed him and nearly spilled his goblet. “Come on, we’re all wanting tae hear about ye and yer pretty lass.”
Aedan took a swallow of his wine, trying to think. What could he say? It wasn’t as if he and Thora had actually shared a bed, in any sense. Of course, he could use encounters he’d had with willing maids, and simply change the name. But still, the idea of saying such things didn’t sit well with him.
He finally opted for a neutral, vague smile. “Och, and what would I say? Me wife’s a shy lass, as ye saw. She fair blushed tae rival a rose just talkin’ o’ our meeting… I wouldnae want tae scandalize her by speakin’ further. She might never forgive me, and ‘twould make a cold bed indeed.”
“Ye cannae be serious.” Terion snorted.
“I can. She’s shy, me lass, but nae above kickin’ me tae the floor or findin’ another place tae rest if I’ve offended her delicate sensibilities. And she has a wicked way o’ holdin’ a grudge.”
Lachlan laughed. “I almost dinnae envy ye, fer all I’ve nae wife meself. But come now, Aedan, nae need tae hold yer silence. ‘Tis only men here, and none o’ us will breathe a word tae yer bonny lass.”
