Page 29 of Highland Slayer
“One of them,” Estevan said. “I have two. Zora is the baby. A tall, red-haired pest of a baby. There are times when I’d like tae put her in a basket and send her out tae sea.”
That brought a grin from Anaxandra. “She’s young, then?”
“She will have seen seventeen years this winter,” he said. “She has every man in the Highlands pining for her, and even some from England. The lass needs tae pick a suitor and become their problem.”
His annoyed manner was exaggerated as he said it, leading Anaxandra to understand that he was jesting. “A suitor?” she said. “I do not know this word.”
He looked at her with some disbelief. “A suitor,” he repeated. “Someone that comes tae court a woman. Do ye know about that?”
Anaxandra was suddenly embarrassed. He spoke as if she should know, and that made her defensive. “I have been raised in an abbey,” she said, putting the fabric down. “Just how much do you think I know about your world?”
She started to march away, but he grabbed her by the wrist. “Easy, lass,” he said in his deep, soothing tone. He had the ability to sound quite calm and, frankly, quite seductive if he wanted to. “No need tae fret. I simply asked a question.”
“You delivered judgment.”
He shook his head. “Nay, I dinna,” he said firmly. “If ye dunna know, I’ll tell ye. Would ye like me tae tell ye about suitors and courting?”
He could see her features tightening. Her breathing began to come more rapidly. “What does it matter?” she said, her voice hoarse with emotion. “I will never have a suitor and no one will ever court me, so it does not matter. I do not want to go with you any longer. We must return immediately.”
With that, she turned away from him, but not before he saw tears in her eyes. She was storming back in the direction of the livery and he caught up to her, grabbing her by the arm, which was the wrong thing to do. She balled a fist and swung on him, but he threw both of his arms around her to hold her fast, preventing her from striking him.
It was the only thing he could think of in the moment.
“Easy, lass, easy,” he murmured, his mouth against the side of her head. “I wasna trying tae offend ye. Ye said ye dinna know about such things and I simply offered tae tell ye. If ye want taeknow about the world outside the walls of the abbey, I’ll tell ye. Ye dunna have tae become angry with me.”
She was struggling in his embrace. “Release me,” she growled. “Release me or you will regret it.”
That only made him tighten his grip. “Nay,” he said. “I’ll not release ye, because if I do, ye’ll try tae beat me again and I’ll not let ye. Stop yer struggles.”
She wouldn’t, but she wasn’t fighting like she had been before. It was enough of a lull to cause Estevan to realize just how good she felt in his arms. She was soft and warm. He had blonde hair in his mouth and didn’t regret it.
He could have held her like that all day.
“Are ye calm now?” he asked, though he really didn’t care if she was or not. He was hoping that, maybe, she wasn’t. At least for a little while longer. “Well? Can I let ye go without losing teeth?”
By this time, she’d stopped fighting him completely. “I will not strike you,” she said.
Instantly, he let her go, but her hair was caught up in the neckline of his tunic, so he had to disengage it. It felt rather soft in his fingers. Like silk. He couldn’t help but notice how flushed she was.
Mayhap she liked it too,he thought.
“Come back tae the tavern with me,” he said, not giving her time to think or speak. “I must retrieve the drink for Matty. Come in and see what a tavern looks like.”
Once again, he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her with him. Anaxandra let him, though by her expression, she was displeased. He didn’t care as long as she wasn’t trying to throw a punch. They were about ten feet from the tavern door when he suddenly veered over to the merchant stall again, back to the table with the fabric. He picked up one of pale blue and held it up to her.
“This is the color of yer eyes,” he said. “For yer trouble in escorting me tae Dumfries, I’d like tae buy it for ye.”
Anaxandra looked at him in shock. “Me?” she said incredulously. “I… Nay, you mustn’t!”
He wouldn’t listen to her. “It’s my money and I can spend it how I please,” he said. He was still holding her wrist as he pulled her into the stall. “Let’s see what else I can buy ye.”
Anaxandra was beside herself. Now, in the middle of the stall that was packed with goods, the unfamiliar smells of faraway places and faraway things filled her nostrils. She could smell cinnamon and sandalwood and other spicy scents. The merchant, a small man with a receding hairline, came out to meet Estevan, who proceeded to tell him that he wanted something pretty for the lady—a necklace of gold, if he had it. As the man directed him toward his vault with jewelry, the man’s wife came out from the rear of the stall and descended on Anaxandra.
“Ah!” she said with delight, flashing her big, yellowed teeth. “What a lovely lady we have! But where is yer fine clothing, lass? What are ye wearing?”
Estevan heard her and came away from the merchant, putting himself between Anaxandra and the loud-mouthed wife. “There is nothing wrong with what she’s wearing,” he said. “This is what she chooses tae wear, as she’s a woman of great skill and training.”
The merchant’s wife looked at him fearfully, but also with confusion. “I meant nothing by it, m’laird,” she said. “I simply meant… that she’s a lovely woman. A lovely woman deserves lovely things.”
