Page 52 of A Two-Faced Laird
“You mean, were they love letters?” She laughed. “No, they were not. They were no more than casual notes asking how you were, what the goings-on were at the castle, that sort of thing. No‘I love you’or anything like that. Not even a hint of it.”
He frowned and shook his head. “There is nothing I can do tonight, Edina,” he told her, “but I will get to the bottom of this when I get back.”
“And where are you going now?” Edina’s mood was beginning to soften a little. Knowing that he had not received her letters, for whatever reason, made her feel better.
“I have to go to see Fenella and her family,” he told her, dropping his gaze to the floor.
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the anger inside her flared up again.
“Then go!” she hissed, so that no one else could hear them. “I really do not know why you bothered to come here! I never want to see you again!” She gave him one last furious glare before marching out into the freezing cold night.
Aidan could not remember a time when he had seen her look so angry. After a moment, he strode after her. Edina looked behind her and saw him, then broke into a run. However, there was no chance of outpacing him, and she knew it, but she had to try, if only for the sake of her dignity.
Aidan almost laughed when he saw her speeding up, because he knew he could catch her in a few strides. He let her run for a few more minutes, anyway, and then, with a few long steps, he was able to reach out, grab her by the elbow and spin her around to face him.
“Not so fast.” His voice was not gentle any more, but stern and forbidding. “I am not asking you to lie with me, Edina, even though I wish I could. All I want is a kiss. One last kiss that we can remember for the rest of our lives. Please?”
The pleading note in his voice was almost Edina’s undoing, but at the last second she saw Fenella in her mind’s eye. She was his betrothed, not Edina, and even though they were not yet wed, even a kiss would be dishonourable.
Aidan could not see Edina’s face well enough to make out her expression, but he knew her well enough by now to sense the doubt within her.
“Edina…” he said softly, then, bent his head to kiss her, but he jerked backwards as the flat of her hand connected with his face in a hard, stinging slap before she turned away and went back into the hall.
The pain in his face was intense, and Aidan reflected later that for such a small woman, Edina packed a brutal punch. Had she been a man, he had no doubt that he would have knocked her to the ground with one blow of his fist, but he had never hit a woman in his life, and never would.
He was not ready to give up yet. Edina was marching back to the hall with fury in every one of her steps. Aidan felt his body stiffening and he groaned. Despite his assurances to Edina that he wanted no more than a kiss, he had been hoping for more—much, much more, and he always found her more alluring when she was angry.
Edina went straight into the midst of the crowded hall, and in a few seconds she was lost from his sight. Aidan made his way through the mass of people, trying to follow her. The music had just started again, but suddenly, above its melody, he heard a piercing scream; a woman was crying for help.
Aidan did not think twice, but plunged into the mass of people to see what was going on. When he arrived at the source of the disturbance, he saw a balding middle-aged man with the bulbous blue nose of the habitual drunk trying to drag Edina onto the dance floor.
He was not holding her hands, but had his hands on her buttocks and was trying to pull her towards him. Edina was resisting with all her might, and Aidan thought fleetingly of the hard slap she had given him. She was not in the right position to do the same thing now, though, since the man was holding her too close.
Edina had the heels of her hands under his chin and was pushing the drunk’s head backwards and his chin upwards withall her might. Although he was short, he was strong, and she was making no progress at all.
Making it worse was the fact that no one had stepped up to help her, even though it was obvious that she sorely needed it. All of them were standing watching, cheering and clapping, except for some of the women, who were quite distressed.
Aidan was neither amused nor distressed. The drunk might have been far stronger than Edina, but he was no match for a strapping man who stood well over six feet tall. Aidan stepped forward, and without any apparent effort, he wrenched the wastrel away from Edina, then held him up by the front of his shirt so that they were nose to nose.
“Why were you molesting this lady?” he growled.
His expression was thunderous.
“I wasnae molestin’ her, Master,” the man replied. He was literally shivering with fear. “I only wanted tae dance wi’ her.”
“Well, I do not think she wanted to dance with you!” Aidan said through gritted teeth.
He put the man’s feet on the ground again, but kept hold of his shirt, then he punched his hand into a fist and swiped the drunkard so hard that he fell down and skidded across the wooden floor.
He lay so still for a moment that Aidan thought he was dead, and his heart skipped a beat, then the fellow raised his head and looked straight at him with hateful eyes.
“What is your name?” Aidan demanded.
“Jack Davison, Master,” the man answered sheepishly.
“Well, Jack Davison,” Aidan drawled. “If you decide to do anything like this again in my presence, guest, we take it outside and settle it like gentlemen. He gave the man a scathing look that raked him from head to toe. “Do we understand each other?”
Davison nodded. “Aye, Master,” he replied, standing up so shakily that he had to hold on to a chair for support.
