Page 46 of Kilted Seduction
Aedan smirked, but didn’t move. “Drink it anyway. Otherwise, ye’re likely tae feel far too much o’ the pain later.”
Her shoulder was aching, more than it had been. Even so, she didn’t want to fall asleep without confirming one thing first. “Ye’ll stay with me?”
“The Wild Hunt itself couldnae move me.” Aedan’s smile was a warm and tender thing. “Dinnae fret. I’ll be here when ye wake.”
Thora nodded, reassured by his words, and drank the tisane quickly. She grimaced at the sharp bitterness of the willow-bark, and was all too happy to accept a cup of mulled wine to wash the taste away afterward.
Once she was done, Aedan set the cup aside, and laid himself down beside her, careful to avoid her wounded shoulder. Thora watched him settle down, his warmth and solid presence comforting her as he wrapped an arm lightly around her waist.
Safely wrapped in Aedan’s arms, Thora sighed, closed her eyes and surrendered to the pull of a healing sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Aedan woke the next morning with Thora in his arms, and the healer watching both of them with a knowing look that made him feel like a lad caught after his first tryst. Still, she didn’t say anything about what she might, or might not, have heard.
The healer served them both a meal of porridge, heavy with cream and fruit, as well as fresh bread. Afterward, she checked Thora’s shoulder and announced that it was healing well, with no sign of further injury or infection. Thora was given a packet of medicine for the pain, another to take with evening meals to prevent any ill or infection, and a salve to apply twice a day. Then the two of them were released to return to the castle proper.
They spent a quiet day in their rooms, resting, using Thora’s injury as an excuse to gain some much-needed peace and privacy. Aedan was happy to do so, knowing that they would be expected to attend the evening festivities, including dancing. He’d been lucky enough to avoid such activities so far, but with Thora on the mend, it would be difficult to find an excuse. Hecould hardly tell Lachlan Ross, or the others, that he was afraid that dancing with Thora would destroy any restraint he had left.
Perhaps they could do a slow, easy dance, with her shoulder as the excuse, then retire early. Surely no one would question such an action, after the events of the day before.
That night, Thora dressed in a gown of green velvet, interspersed with panels of lighter green, and a tracing of deep green and holly berries. It was a beautiful gown, and it took more effort than he cared to admit not to lock the door, remove the gown, and spend the evening in far more pleasurable pursuits.
He himself wore a kilt of Cameron colors, white shirt with red laces, and a green hunting vest under his Cameron sash. He also wore his laird’s torc about his throat, and the coronet of his rank on his head.
Rhiannon was a miracle worker at making even the stiffest formal clothing comfortable, but that didn’t mean he liked the necessity of wearing it any better. Still, appearances had to be maintained.
The feast was long, but the food was excellent. Lachlan Ross, whatever else might be said about the man, had cooks who were superb at their work. Whole roast pheasants and pigs, platters of venison, chickens, fish… and that was just the meat. There were baskets of bread, and trays upon trays of vegetables, three preparations of potatoes, and at least as many soups.
Dessert, when it came, was much the same. Christmas puddings, black buns, currant cakes, sweet cakes, tarts with cream, all served with as much wine, beer, mead, whisky, or cider as a person could want.
Aedan ate and drank in moderation, mindful of his company, and was pleased to see that Thora did the same. She had a healthy appetite, but practiced good manners, and was careful to watch how much she ate.
After the main portions of the feast had been cleared away, it was time for the Laird of Misrule to usher in the dancing. Aedan didn’t recognize the man who played the role, but he did it well, playing up to the crowd, telling jests that never crossed too far over the line into crude words. He gave out coins, and claimed Laird Terion’s wife for the first dance, and then the evening entertainment was truly underway.
Aedan managed to sit through four dances before he surrendered to the odd looks their table companions were giving them and rose from his seat. “Me lady, would ye care tae honor me with a dance?”
It was a slower dance they were preparing for, one he was confident they could manage. Thora nodded and placed her hand in his, allowing him to raise her to her feet with her uninjured arm. Together, they descended to the floor and took their places.
The first skrill of the bagpipes set his feet in motion, and Aedan took Thora’s arm and swept her into the opening stepsof the dance. She followed his lead easily, gracefully, as if they’d partnered each other all their lives.
He was several inches taller than she, his strides usually far longer, but she matched him step for step, as if born to do so. Every move was seamless, and it felt right in a way that dancing with no other lass ever had. He guided her through a turn, pulled her close, spun her free and traced the steps around her… and Thora followed every move.
He wondered if she was somehow using her power to guide her. It seemed a foolish thing to waste such a gift on, but what did he know? Then he looked into her eyes, saw her focus on him, and knew.
There was no magic power or mysterious gift at work. She simply read his body language and followed his lead.
When did I become so easy fer her tae understand? And why does it nae bother me?
They passed through a series of side-by-side steps, and Aedan kept his eyes on Thora, watching her as she watched him.
Closer, then apart. Step-step-step, spin, follow a wide circle on the floor. Hands linked, arms linked, apart again, palms touching. Every move flowed simply, easily, naturally between them, as if they were linked by invisible chains that guided them in perfect harmony.
By the time the song ended, both of them were panting, faces shining with perspiration. Aedan had never felt so invigorated, or so at peace as he watched Thora go to get them both some refreshment.
Then the moment was shattered by a hand on his arm. He looked away from Thora to see a young woman smiling at him. Her dress was plainer - perhaps a village lass, or the wife or lover of a retainer - and the laces were far looser than he would have expected. And the lower section far less loose and more revealing that might be considered appropriate.
She was one of the ladies he’d seen being friendly with Kendrick, one or two nights ago, and now she was giving him the same sultry look she’d given his fellow laird.
