Page 37 of Scot of Deception
And he would make sure Kathleen never forgot it, either.
Livening up his steps, Blaine twirled Kathleen around the other dancers, drawing bubbling laughter out of her. Despite himself, Blaine found his lips stretching into a smile, his feetsliding over the floor with more energy than ever before. Every step that brought their bodies close was another beat his heart skipped; and every brush of their bodies reminded him of the moments they had spent together, with Kathleen at the mercy of the pleasure he gave her.
His fingers itched to peel all those layers of silky fabric off her body, to trace the contours of her waist, her hips, her breasts. Instead, they curled tightly around her, sinking into her flesh, and Kathleen gasped in response. Her plump lips fell open, her gaze turning heated as it locked in on him, and the next breath she took was a shuddering one, as though a shiver had run through her at the possessive touch. She leaned closer, and then closer still, and Blaine felt her soft exhale on his lips as he lowered his head, meeting her halfway.
And then the song was over and the nobles around them erupted in applause, the sudden, harsh sound echoing off the stone walls of the great hall. As if released by a spell, Blaine jerked back from Kathleen, an apology trying to stumble its way past his lip, but before he could say a single thing, another man stepped in, asking for the next dance.
Blaine hardly heard what the man told Kathleen. His ears buzzed with the rush of blood to his head and for a moment, he was too dazed to do anything other than stare blankly at her, the shock of what he had almost done weighing heavily on his shoulders. When she glanced at him at the other man’s request, he couldn’t find the words to send this one away, too.
And so, Kathleen had no other choice but to agree to the dance. Blaine watched as she took the man’s hand and he led her away just as the next song began. By the time he came back to his senses, the other dancers moved around him as if he was just another column in the room—nothing more than an obstacle to be avoided.
Anger bubbled up inside him—anger and jealousy, the two mixing together in a volatile blend of emotions. The part of his mind that still clung onto logic reminded him he had no good reason to be upset; anyone could ask Kathleen to dance. If anything, she could even find a good husband that way. Someone whom she desired; someone she could love. And yet, the mere thought of her with another man was enough to drive him mad with jealousy, to the point where he considered marching up to that man and demanding a duel.
He didn’t do such a thing, of course; he was no fool. Instead, he gave one last look at them over his shoulder, his eyes falling on the grip he had on her, on the satisfied smile on his face.
And then, Blaine was gone, disappearing into the crowd once again.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Blaine’s touch lingered on Kathleen’s body, like an echo that refused to die down. Even as she excused herself from the dance floor after enduring the sixth dance of the night, she could feel the ghost of his hand on her waist. Even his gaze, intense as it had been, had felt like a physical touch, and for the first time she was convinced Blaine felt the same thing for her as she did for him.
She had the sneaking suspicion that even if she tried to get him to admit it, he never would. But no matter how much he denied it, she had seen the desire etched clearly in his features. She had seen that look on men before and even sheltered as she was, she knew what it meant to be the object of someone’s desire.
However much she wanted Blaine to give her just what she wanted, the night demanded bigger things from her. At some point, while Kathleen danced with the young men whofancied themselves her suitors, Fenella had disappeared from the room and now Kathleen was in search of her, roaming the halls of Castle Stalker.
It didn’t take her long to find her friend. As she passed by the balcony that overlooked the swelling tide, she saw a figure stir in the dark and immediately recognized it as belonging to Fenella. Kathleen would know her anywhere, even in the dark, as if a tether tied them together.
With soft footsteps, she stepped outside. It was chilly there, the wind whipping that side of the castle, weathering the stones and making the single torch that hung in the corner flicker, its trembling flames casting looming shadows over the balcony. Fenella stood by the rail, her arms folded on top of the ledge as she gazed into the moonlit waves underneath. Even as Kathleen came to stand next to her, she didn’t stir.
This time, she didn’t bother putting on a jovial mask. There was no one around but the two of them, and with the feast still raging inside, everyone was too busy to look for either of them. Even Blaine had been gone for longer than Kathleen would have thought, and the last time she had gotten a glimpse of him had been when that young man had asked her to give him the next dance.
“Are ye alright?” Kathleen asked Fenella once again. She didn’t know if she would receive an honest answer this time, but Fenella didn’t need to say a single thing for Kathleen to know the truth.
She was far from alright. Though her future husband had seemed inoffensive during the feast, the reality was that he was a stranger. Neither she nor Fenella could possibly know if he was a decent man, if he would treat her with the respect she deserved, even if they never loved each other.
So far, Fenella had said nothing directly on the matter of her marriage, and she avoided the topic now, too. Instead, what she said was, “I kent this day would come. Fer lasses like us, marriage is never about love, only about duty, alliances. But kennin’ this daesnae make it any easier.”
Kathleen shared the sentiment. She lived her days in fear, dreading the time when she would have to wed for an alliance. “I’m sorry Fenella, ‘tis true. But I hope at least me bein’ here gives ye some comfort. Come tae me any time, day or night if ye need tae speak… and, if it helps any, yer betrothed seems like a kind and decent man and he looks at ye with admiration. I hope everything works out much better than ye think.”
Fenella just kept staring down into the water pensively. Then, out of the blue, she turned to Kathleen.
“What about ye?” Fenella asked, her lilting soprano taking on a conspiratorial tone as she finally turned to look at Kathleen. Even in the dark, her eyes seemed to pierce right through her. “Have ye fallen fer Blaine?”
Kathleen hesitated a moment too long, prompting a knowing look from her friend. She had told Fenella everything about Blaine while they were preparing for the feast, from the moment they met when he saved her from the Campbell men to the moment they had stepped foot in Castle Stalker. There was no one else to whom she could confess everything that had happened between her and Blaine, and Fenella knew her just as well as she knew Fenella.
There was no hiding her feelings from her.
“It seems that I have,” Kathleen finally admitted. In the dark, with no one but Fenella for company, it felt easy to admit it. Not only that, but speaking it aloud was a relief—like the truth was a dark cloud over her head, ever-present, and only now did it dissipate.
Fenella smiled, but Kathleen couldn’t call the gesture happy; not quite. There was something about that smile that saddened even her, a melancholy that was palpable in the air between them.
“Ye should try tae be with him, then,” Fenella said after a few moments of silence, slamming her hand down on the rail with an air of finality, as if the decision had already been made on Kathleen’s behalf. “Ye should take what ye want afore it is too late. Life’s too short tae be so reasonable all the time, Kathleen. An’ if ye’re reasonable, ye’ll end up just like me.”
With a sigh, Fenella turned her gaze back to the tide, resting her chin on her palm as she stared straight ahead. Kathleen wished there was something she could say, something she could do to save her from this fate. But what could either of them do when someone else had the power to dictate their lives?
This could be her last chance, Kathleen knew. If she returned to Moy Hall without ever attempting to be with Blaine, she would not only regret it, but she was certain she would never see him again.
Whatever it took, she had to try.
