Page 34 of Bride of the Mad Laird
“And what were these men and women daeing in these stories, pray tell?”
She flushed again. “They disrobed and lay wi’ each other.”
He guffawed. “And what else did they dae, these men and women of ancient times?”
“There was kissing and embracing. And sometimes a lad climbing into a window tae lie abed wi’ a beautiful lady. There was much talk of pleasuring, but they were all godless heathens.”
“And did ye like those saucy tales?”
She sighed. “I took enjoyment in reading them.”
“And did Maither Una ken ye were reading those wicked tomes?”
“Why, I am certain nae.”
“Yet, fer all that, the thought of making a wean makes ye pull a face and turn up yer nose.”
“Oh, that’s an altogether different thing,” she said, airily.
He decided that he’d progressed far enough with this turn in their conversation. He now had some understanding as to why she was so unaware of the way her touch set his heart racing and the blood pounding in his veins. He silently accepted the challenge she’d unwittingly laid down. One day – he hoped not be too far in the future – he might have a chance to test it. His mind took a rough path through the possibilities that would open up once he started imagining his hand, her satin skin, her thighs…
Once again, he pulled himself back from the brink. She’d only just now demonstrated her innocence and he was not a man for debauchery. Especially not with a lass who’d known nothing but convent life since she was a bairn. No matter how she twisted his heart and made his shaft hard.
Once he was confident the bulge in his britches had faded, he got to his feet.
“I must off, lass, there is much I must see tae.”
She gave a knowing nod. “Ye’ve nae heard back from the men who went seeking word of MacDougall?”
He offered a wry smile at her astuteness. “Ye’re correct. I will meet wi’ them as soon as the news comes that they’re back. They are expected tae return any time.”
She got to her feet and clasped his hand. “I am afeared of MacDougall. Me belief is that the presence of his men so near tae Dùn Ara bodes nay good.”
He pressed his hand to hers. “I share yer concerns lass. I dinnae wish tae lie t’ye and neither dae I wish ye tae be afeared. Ye are safe within the walls of the castle, and ye must remain here.”
He saw the flash of fear once again in her green eyes and wished it were otherwise.
“But I wish tae return tae me own clan. All those years, resigned as I was tae spending me days at the Priory, I remembered me home with longing in me heart.”
“When the danger is over, I will make it me duty tae escort ye back tae yer home.”
“D’ye promise?”
He hesitated. The thought of her leaving, was like a sudden lead weight on his soul.
“Aye lass, ye have me promise.”
Once he had returned to his chamber he thought long and hard on that, resolving that he had to harden his heart. The Lady Lyra had somehow slid under the cold, hard, shell he’d constructed since childhood to guard him from pain. Knowing he must abide by her wishes and take her home once she was free to leave, he would do all in his power to close himself to her.
However difficult that might prove to be.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Once Tòrr had left her chamber, Lyra returned to the fireside. She was used to quiet contemplation, but since she’d left the Priory there’d been little time to sit alone with her thoughts.
Her mind, filled with confusion, slowly settled as she sat gazing into the flames, breathing slowly, allowing herself to observe the thoughts that continually drifted across her mind.
Again and again, they returned to the Laird Tòrr MacKinnon. She saw his face, sometimes set in grim lines, other times smiling. And, what left her unsettled and often bewildered, were glimpses of something else in his dark, storm-ridden, grey eyes. Whenever she met his gaze, it was as if lightning scorched between them. She felt it streak through her heart as if it came directly from his eyes.
