Taken by Angeline Fortin (great books of all time TXT) 📗

wondering whether the English were planning on fighting back at all or if, as Laird said, the border holds and castles were so used to being fought over that they merely cleaved to and hoped for the best.

“How goes the war?” she asked when Laird returned to their tent a few hours later.  One advantage of Laird’s lie to his father and the King was that they were able to share a tent.

“‘Struth I never wanted to be a soldier any more than ye enjoyed life as a thespian.  I believe the life of a courtier to be even worse each day I’m am commanded to be at the King’s side.”  Shedding his weaponry, Laird poured himself a glass of wine and dropped into a chair with a sigh.

“That distillery must be looking better and better.”

“Far more promising even in theory than my father was in keeping his word in truth.  Father strings me along wi’ promises to aid me but has ne’er acted on them.  Nor hae I spoken of my impatience.  ’Twas always much easier to let him have his way than it was to argue wi’ him.”

“I so get that.  Isn’t it interesting that both of us dream basically of living our own lives unfettered by the will of others?” she asked softly.

Yes, they were more alike than Scarlett had realized.

“No’ terribly grand, is it?”

“I think they are.  Our dreams are our own.  As great in importance as the kid who dreams of ruling the world,” she said and Laird chuckled.

“I see yer point.”

Scarlett nodded, massaging his shoulders and bending to kiss his neck.  Laird turned his head to capture her lips.  Beneath his, her lips parted welcoming his languid exploration as he pulled her into his lap.

“Lass?”

“Hmm?” she murmured against his mouth.

“Why would a goat long to rule the world?”

Scarlett’s laughter joined his as she turned, hiking up her skirts to straddle his lap.  Wrapping her arms around his head, tangling her fingers in his shaggy locks, she spread kisses along his jaw and down his neck.  Shifting, she undulated slowly until his thickening length was snug and throbbing against her. Already she felt heat coiling at her core but she was in no rush.  There was urgency but also contentment just being within the circle of his embrace.  In feeling those strong arms wrapped tightly about her, holding her securely as if she had become a part of him.

“Ah, mo chroí, there is nothing sweeter than the feel of ye in my arms,” he murmured thickly in his husky brogue, burying his face into the curve of her neck.

She never knew what to think when he said things like that.  Never knew how to deal with the incompatible emotions of pleasure and alarm they inspired.  It was as if he wanted to be with her always though he never said anything about the future.  Scarlett didn’t either but for entirely different reasons.  “So you’ve conquered another castle today?”

“Conquer is a strong word.  Ford Castle belongs to Sir William Heron who is currently held prisoner by King James at Holyrood.  ‘Tis his wife, Lady Elizabeth Heron who surrendered the castle to us wi’ the promise to secure the release of two Scotsmen being held by the Sassenach in exchange for us sparing her castle,” he told her.

“And what if she doesn’t?”

He shrugged.  “Then we will destroy it anyway.”

Sure, Scarlett thought, why not?  No biggie.  “So, what’s next?”

“I dinnae ken.  Seems King James has found the company of Lady Heron to be most congenial.  He remains at Ford Castle this night.”

“Poor Janet Kennedy.  She might be in danger of losing her prized position.”

Laird chuckled softly.  “I dinnae care, as long as she disnae lose it to ye.”

“How could she?” Scarlett teased.  “I’m ‘married’ to you now, aren’t I?”

“Och, ye’ve no ken how to behave like a proper wife.”

“Submissive?”

“Aye.”

“Oh, I could be submissive,” she raked her teeth along his whiskered jaw, enjoying his sharp intake of breath at the promise in her words.

“Aye, for aboot an hour’s time then yer back to yer usual sass.”

“You like it.”

“Aye, mo chroí, I do,” he admitted, his arms banding even more tightly around her.  “Och, my sweet lass, would that ye might be my bride in truth.”

Scarlett laughed nervously.  Was that a proposal?  He was joking, wasn’t he?

“But I’m not,” she said lightly.  “It doesn’t matter, I suppose.  I’m terrible at relationships.”  True enough.  She wasn’t really looking to be anyone’s girlfriend much less wife.  She’d never gotten serious with anyone before simply because all the men she met already had a preconception of who she was and their expectations of how things with her would be. “I would only disappoint you.”

“Ne’er, lass,” he whispered in her ear, brushing his lips across her lobe.  “Ye delight me in every way.”

“Until I don’t anymore,” she said firmly.  He deserved fair warning.  She knew well enough how these things went.  “Nothing good ever lasts forever.  We won’t either.”

His arms tightened around her.  His disappointment at her words was palpable.  “Hae ye somewhere else to be?”

Scarlett shrugged noncommittally.  “Not just now, but I may not have a choice in the matter.  Any more than you do.”

He’d never met a woman like Scarlett Thomas.  She was an enigma in so many ways, but especially in this.  To be so caring in one moment but to deny the reasons for it in the next.  He’d never known a woman so guarded with her affections, so hesitant to give her heart.  But then, James had never known himself to be so willing to give his own.

If the truth were known, he already had.  He’d told Scarlett things about himself he’d never shared with another.  He’d lied for her, to have her for his own.  To his family.  To his sovereign.  Yet James knew he would go further still to keep her safe.  To keep her at his side.

She would realize soon enough that some good things could – and would – last forever.