Page 18 of An Allusive Love
Ye inherited yer grandfather’s charm and win the day most times. Dinna let it blind ye to yer own shortcomings.
Maybe his conversations with Kirstinewerea bit one-sided. He thought back to one in particular.
Her flushed facedanced before him, full lips parted, chocolate eyes bright with passion. He wanted to explore these new sensations with her, discover what made her love him and why. Tomorrow was the beginning of a new adventure. And no one enjoyed a quest better than Brodie MacNaughton.
*
They were inthe woods, kissing as they had the day before, but Brodie touched her in secret places. His fingers traced her breasts, lazily trailed down her stomach, between her legs, to cup her mound. Caressing, sliding, the friction of his touch sent currents of pleasure through her…
Kirstine threw back the counterpane, her skin damp. A dream. She clutched at her chest, willed her heartbeat to slow. Such an ardent dream.
Something clattered below. Her mother was in the kitchen preparing breakfast. The aroma of sausage wafted up to the loft, and her mouth watered. After the tryst with Brodie, she’d been too excited to eat. Her stomach gurgled, and she scrambled from the bed. Bare feet hit the thick wool rug covering the floor planks.
Kirstine poured water from the pitcher and quickly splashed her face and combed her hair. Pulling back the curtain from the tiny window, dust motes floated in the sunshine. Another beautiful day. The first day of her new life as a woman in love and Brodie loving her in return. The day she had waited for since she’d been five years old.
Dressed in her work clothes, a durable, russet wool skirt and bodice, she clambered down the ladder. Her mother’s back was turned, busy cutting turnips for mashing. The rapid sound of the knife as she sliced against the scarred cutting board, matched the bob of her head. Charlie’s cold nose poked at her hand, and Kirstine scratched his head.
“Ye look like a woodpecker hard at work.” She giggled, kissed her mother’s cheek, and grabbed a chunk of cheese. “Ye should no’ have let me sleep so late. I can help ye after I gather the eggs and milk the goats.”
“The turnips are almost done, but ye can start on those when ye come back.” She nodded at the potatoes in a basket. “I promised yer father neeps and tatties for dinner.” She looked over her shoulder. “Then ye can tell me all about yesterday while we eat breakfast.”
Kirstine grinned. “Ye just want to say ye were right.”
“Words a woman never hears enough,” her mother agreed with a snicker.
In the smaller storage shed, she scooped some feed into her skirt, holding it out like a pocket. The hens were already out, their feathers ruffled and clucking loudly at Charlie. She scattered the seed around the yard, and their squawks ceased. Beaks blurred as they quickly pecked at the ground; their black and white feathers shimmered in the morning sun. Entering the blackhouse, she breathed in the odor of hay and manure, grabbed a basket from the mudded stone wall, and walked to the far end where the chickens were kept. There were a dozen nests for the hens, plus several roosters. The hound snuffled the straw as she filled her basket with half a dozen brown eggs, which she left at the front door for her mother.
Kirstine hummed a favorite tune as she headed out to the small pasture behind the blackhouse. The two buckets she held brushed against her skirts. The goatsbaa’dat the intrusion, but a soothing melody soon had them standing patiently while she milked them. When both buckets were half-full, she lugged them back to the house, daydreaming about her rendezvous later with Brodie. He had whispered in her ear just before they’d left the festivities last night.
“Our spot, tomorrow afternoon.” His breath had been warm against her skin. “We’ll talk more then.”
She remembered the surprise in his blue eyes after their kiss. The hunger that had replaced the usual spark of humor, his lips, his hands—
“Kirstine, be careful. Ye’re slopping over the sides of the pails,” yelled her mother through the window.
Startled, she looked down and saw the milky liquid dribbling down her skirt.Heavens!she thought,Get hold of yourself.Her mother met her at the door and relieved her of the buckets.
“I’ve made extra cheese for MacDougal and his boy. He and yer father made an agreement yesterday. We’ll provide them with butter, cheese, and eggs in exchange for labor.” Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “I suppose ye dinna want to deliver it for me now that ye’ve stars in yer eyes?”
“I’ll do whatever ye need me to, Ma.”
“Ye’re a good daughter. Now, sit down and fill yer belly. We have a busy day.” She filled Kirstine’s bowl with porridge and placed it before her. There was already a plate of scones, toast, jam, and soft cheese on the table.
“I’m so hungry, I could have eaten the chicken feed,” Kirstine said around a mouthful of toast and soft cheese. She added a dollop of honey to the porridge and then her tea. “I was too happy to eat last night.”
“Tell me what happened.”
Kirstine began with Brodie’s jealousy at the bonfire and then his reaction after the May pole dance. While she didn’t give her mother details, she admitted Brodie kissed her.
“So, he’s courting ye now?”
She nodded, heat coloring her cheeks.
“Ye’re sure?”
“Of course, I’m sure. I did what ye advised—told him my feelings—and he said…” What exactly had he said?
I canna deny this stirring inside me.
