Page 15 of A Merry MacNaughton
“Was she ever partial to any one suitor?” That had slipped off his tongue before he could stop it.
“There was one. Rabbie was a fine young lad. He sent a letter or two when he first left, letting us ken he’d made Canada and was making a profit from furs. We havena heard from him since.” Malachi cocked his head, a questioning look in his familiar green eyes. “Does it matter?”
Calum frowned. “Nay.” But it did for some reason. Was it the reason she hesitated? Giving herself to the earl would not betray the young man she might have loved for her heart would remain his. He slammed some of the thick butter onto his bread. A dollop flew off the knife and onto the floor, quickly licked up by the waiting hound at his feet.
Calum chose abook of poems by Allan Ramsay from the shelf. Did she have time to read much? His mother enjoyed poetry so he thought it would be a good way to start his visit. As he climbed the stairs two at a time, he remembered the feel of her warm body against his when he’d carried her yesterday. The smile came unbidden to his lips.
The door was open again, so he poked his head in. “Are ye in the mood for some company?”
She nodded, her eyes clear this morning, her shining russet waves pulled back with a wide, brown ribbon. Dressed in a simple deep brown dress, scallops along the sleeves and hem, she sat upon the counterpane, drumming her fingers against the fabric. “I’m ready to pull my hair out. I canna remember the last time I spent so much time in bed.”
“Let me do the honor of remedying that.” He pulled the stool close beside and eased down, placing the book on the bed for her approval.
“Ye read poetry?” He heard the doubt in her voice.
“No’ as often as my mother, but she’s taught me to appreciate all types of literature.The Gentle Shepherdis her favorite. At least Ramsay is a Scot, even if he writes about the namby-pamby Lowlanders.”
Peigi laughed. The clear, sweet sound tickled his ears and prodded his heart. “I read it once long ago. So what do ye prefer then?”
“Alexander Ross is more to my taste.The Fortunate Shepherdessis a bit less romantic. Do ye enjoy books?” He found he looked forward to learning more about this woman who would be his wife.
“Aye, when there’s time. More in the winter these days, when there is less to be done outside. My mother used to read to us at night before the fire.”
“Ye miss her?”
Peigi nodded. “It frightens me when I canna bring her image to mind. I dinna want her to be forgotten.” She began to pick at the counterpane again. A nervous habit, he was learning.
“I worried about that when my grandda died. But as long as ye have the memories, our loved ones will always be with us.” He picked up the book. “Would ye like me to leave this with ye? I thought it might help pass the morning hours. I plan on providing the afternoon diversion.”
She smiled at that. “Thank ye. This idleness wears on me more than a hard day’s work.”
“I hope ye will have more time for more pleasant activities in the future.” He cleared his throat, watching her eyes for any emotion. “Have ye thought about our conversation last night?”
The slender fingers pulled at the counterpane again, but her eyes remained bright. “If ye havena changed yer mind, I accept yer offer.”
Squelching the urge to wrap her in his arms, he leaned forward and threaded his fingers through hers. “I promise to do my best to make ye happy, Peigi.”
Tears shone in her eyes. Happiness or sorrow? Then the trembling smile curved those delectable lips and he gave up the pretense. He leaned forward and kissed each eyelid, smiling at her intake of breath at his lightest touch. His lips moved to her nose, each corner of her mouth, and finally the soft rosebud mouth.
He cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking the velvet soft cheek. “Ye willna regret it, I promise ye that.”
“I can only come out the better for it. I hope ye dinna regret it.”
She surprised him then and kissed him back. Her fingers dug into the soft linen of his shirt and sent flashes of heat to his groin. He stifled the moan halfway up his throat and cupped his hand around her shoulder, running his palm up and down her arm. His tongue teased open her lips and she parted for him, shyly responding. She tasted of honey and tea, and he wanted to swallow her whole. Peigi followed his lead, and ran her fingers up and down his arms, his muscles tensing and flexing beneath her touch. She gasped into his mouth, and he smiled into their kiss, pulling back, and giving attention to her neck. Her shudder made him ache with desire. He sat back, letting the groan give him some relief.
The next hours were spent getting acquainted. He told her of his family, his brothers, what it had been like growing up with two brothers, always trailing behind him and imitating all he did. Hamish’s temper and Finley’s keen curiosity had kept him busy keeping both out of trouble.
“So ye are the son who sets the example? The ‘good’ son?” Her face was serious but her eyes glittered with laughter.
“Och, no. Ye saw through me, eh? I taught them no’ to get caught since I was always to blame when they were.”
She laughed and told of him of her childhood, of the “old days” when her mother was still alive and the Craiggs had prospered. She spoke of the crofters and the “sad times” when many of them left. Her husky tone washed over him, excited him, calmed him. She was a unique combination of soothing and sensuous. He could listen to her for hours.
“So ye sing,Peigi?” He’d wager a flock of sheep she had a captivating voice.
“A little. My voice is too low, so I canna hit the notes most females can. I stay on key, though, so there’s no need to put yer fingers in yer ears.” She grinned. “And ye?”
He pitched his voice into a high squeak. “Weel, I canna hit the low notes, but I can send the rodents running when I hit the high ones just so.” He gave a curdlingaaahthat started Black Angus howling. The dog put his front paws on Calum’s lap and licked his face.
