Reckless by Hannah Howell
7
“Is this how ye mean to play your game?”
Alexander muttered a curse, then turned to face Barra, heavily wishing that his young brother had not followed him up to the battlements. It was annoying, but it was also embarrassing. He had come up on the high walls to try and covertly watch Ailis work in the kitchen garden with the children. Alex suspected it was rather obvious, especially since Barra had caught him doing such spying several times in the two weeks since Ailis had been brought to Rathmor.
“And what is that supposed to mean?” he asked, meeting Barra’s sardonic look with a calm he did not feel.
“Ye may not have noticed, brother, but I am no longer the dim-witted drunk.”
“I noticed. ‘Tis one of the few good things that have happened to us in the last few years.”
Barra shook his head, rested his arms on the parapets, and stared down at Ailis and the children. “Ye sounded like a petulant child just then. We are alive, Alexander. There must be some good to find in that.”
“Ye found little good in these last two years.”
“True enough. ‘Tis why I can so clearly see how wrong ye are and fear it. I have seen the wretched depths grief and hopelessness can take a man to. I have seen how easily it can steal a man’s strength and reason. In ye, I see how it has stolen all that made ye such a good man. Ye have lost your gift of understanding, of forgiveness.”
“Forgiveness?” Alexander spat out the word as he glared at Barra. “Do ye ask me to forgive Colin MacFarlane for dishonoring us by cuckolding our father but months after his marriage? Or for his cowardly murder of our father and his theft of our lands? Do ye expect me to forgive our adder of a stepmother for leading our hapless father into that MacFarlane trap? She may as well have cut his throat herself. Should I forgive her for helping her lover Colin gain all he coveted? She even used her wiles and the power of her many lovers to help MacFarlane gain the king’s acknowledgment of his false claims, thus stealing our right of vengeance. If she wasna already dead I would kill her with my bare hands. And, despite the crimes done us, we risk the taint of outlawry each time we act against Colin or what few allies he has clung to. Am I to forgive all that?”
“Nay, and ye ken that I dinna ask ye to.”
“Then who am I to forgive?” Alexander continued before Barra could say any more. “My wives? The first one mayhaps. She was just a whore—an embarrassment but little else. That leaves my second wife—the mad Frances? Am I to forgive her? She who killed my Elizbet, my only child?” he asked in a tight whisper.
“Nay. Cease trying to silence me with a litany of the crimes done to us. Ye ken that I would never ask ye to forgive such things, that I would think ye a saint if ye were able to do so. What I ask is that ye forgive womankind, that we cease faulting the innocent for crimes done by a few of their ilk.”
Alexander gave an unpleasant laugh. “A few? The course of my life has been littered with whores, liars, and adulteresses. I forgave too often. ‘Tis why we lost so much. They sensed my weakness. No more. I have finally seen the rot that lurks beneath the soft skin and pretty face. I shallna be fooled again.”
“Ye canna believe all ye have just said. What of the brides of your closest friends? What of the MacLagan women?”
“They are proof of what I say. They, too, brought trouble with them.”
“And good, but I can see that ye have blinded yourself. It also explains why ye have turned cold toward your old friends, even refusing their help in this fight.”
“ ‘Tis our fight, not theirs. I willna risk their lives for our gain.”
“Nay, nor will ye risk meeting with women ye ken will prove your accusations and beliefs are all wrong, all born of your pain. Ailis—“
“Ailis is a MacFarlane.”
“A trick of birth, ‘tis all, and well ye ken it.” Barra shook his fist at Alexander. “She doesna deserve what ye are doing to her. Ye bed her every night, and I dinna need to witness it to ken that ye do so with gentleness and lustiness. That can be seen on your faces—briefly—each morn. Ah, but then ye recall that she is a woman, a MacFarlane, and ye turn cold. Ye lurk about watching her, hungering for her, but rarely speak to her or treat her very kindly at all.”
“She is a MacFarlane!”
“Aye, and ye are a fool!”
Before Alexander could strike Barra, as he ached to, he heard young Sibeal’s voice saying, “Papa, Uncle, I need ye to help me.” He fought to control himself as Barra immediately turned to Sibeal.
Barra picked the child up and gave her a kiss on the cheek before gently scolding her. “Ye ken that ye shouldna be up here, dearling. ‘Tis dangerous. Why didna ye stay with Ailis? Ye looked to be having fun in the garden.”
“I was.” Sibeal lightly chewed on her bottom lip and twirled a fat reddish curl around her dirty finger. “I needed ye.”
“Well, I am pleased to help, but what can I do that ye canna do? Or that your aunt canna help with?”
“Ye must save the wee puppies.”
“What wee puppies?”
“The wee puppies that will fall in the water.” She tugged on the front of Barra’s jupon. “Come, Papa, ye must save the puppies.” She began to cry, and her words became jumbled.
“Do ye ken of any puppies, Alexander?” Barra patted Sibeal’s head in a gesture of awkward helplessness.
“Nay.” Alexander shook aside the unwanted pang of jealousy he suffered while watching Barra with Sibeal. “A few of our bitches are due to whelp soon, but I dinna think they have. The earlier broods are too big to be called wee puppies.”
“But they are puppies!” Sibeal yelled. “They are! Ye have to get them out of the water. Ye have to!”
“I think we had better speak to Ailis,” said Barra when nothing he did soothed Sibeal.
Alexander grumbled a curse as he followed Barra down from the walls. He really did not want to see Ailis. Barra had been painfully close to the truth before little Sibeal had interrupted them. Alexander could not resist the draw of the sweet passion he shared with Ailis in the night, but he refused the woman all else. It was the only way he knew to keep some distance between them, although he felt the worst of hypocrites, for he had once lectured a friend on the wrong done by such a game. Despite that, at night he fed the hungers of his body, but by avoiding her for most of the day, he also hoped to evade becoming emotionally drawn to her.
It was a plan that was not working very well at all. He was finding that he ached to see her, wanted to talk to her, to hear her laugh. It was why he had taken to spying on her. That weakness in his plan would not make him discard it, however. It was the only plan he had. It was the only defense he had against Ailis—a woman he was certain was a great threat to the shield of bitterness he had encased himself in. He knew instinctively that Ailis MacFarlane could touch him, so he would stay out of her reach.
As he and Barra, who still carried Sibeal, approached Ailis, Alexander hardened himself. Ailis looked endearingly dirty. She still wore one of his boyhood shirts, but skirts and petticoats had replaced the hose. The women of Rathmor had been quick to sew her up some women’s clothing after seeing her dressed as a lad. Her rich black hair hung in a thick braid down her back. The sleeves of the linen shirt were rolled up and she had dirt on her up to the elbow as well as several broad smudges upon her face. She was no cleaner than the twins, who had been helping her. Alexander found it very hard not to smile, and that irritated him.
One look at Sibeal’s tear-stained face, and Ailis forgot her interest in Alexander. She wiped her hands on her apron and quickly took her niece into her arms. “Hush, my loving.” She kissed Sibeal’s forehead, then looked accusingly at the two men. “What have ye done to her?”
“Naught,” snapped Alexander. “She keeps weeping about puppies.”
Barra hastened to explain how Sibeal had come to him and what she had said. “Once she started crying, ‘twas impossible to understand. She just keeps wanting us to help with the puppies.” He frowned when he saw an odd expression settle on Ailis’s face, one echoed on the begrimed faces of the twins. “What is it? What is wrong?”
“The child is upset is all,” Ailis muttered. “Ye need not linger here. We can tend her.”
“Nay,” Sibeal wailed and lunged back toward Barra, who quickly caught her in his arms. “We have to go outside, outside the walls. Ye canna go, Aunt, but Papa can. Papa can.”
“All right, Sibeal.” Ailis rubbed the little girl’s back. “Calm yourself, sweeting. Ye ken well that ye must be calm, that ye must think hard and speak carefully.”
“Aye, and that ye were supposed to be quiet,” grumbled Manus, earning a slight punitive nudge from his aunt.
“Quiet about what?” demanded Alexander. “Have ye been keeping some secret, Ailis?”
“Oh, aye, just a wee one.” Ailis gave a sour laugh. “However, now is not the time to discuss it.”
“Now is the perfect time.” He reached for her.
Ailis slapped Alexander’s hand away. “Nay, it isna.” She easily ignored his look of astonishment over her blatant impudence. “Now we must calm Sibeal, find out what she needs, and get it. After that we may pay court to your petty suspicions and animosities.” She immediately turned her full attention to Sibeal. “Now, take a few deep breaths, lassie, and still those tears. If we are to save these puppies ye speak of, then we need to ken a few things—such as where.”
“They are in the water,” Sibeal answered, calmer, but with her high clear voice still unsteady.
“Are they standing in the water?”
“Nay, they are in a sack. A man tosses them off of a cliff.”
“Now, wait a minute,” Alexander interrupted, ignoring Ailis’s cross look. “There are no cliffs in Rathmor nor streams running through the bailey. The child but had a bad dream. Some old memory haunts her.”
“I saw it! I saw it!” Sibeal began to cry again as she protested.
“Now ye have fixed it.” Ailis saw that Barra was doing as good a job of calming his daughter as she could, so she turned her attention to Alexander. “I hadna wished to reveal this so soon. I had wanted ye to come to ken Sibeal better. She has the sight.” Ailis was not surprised by the look of shock on Alexander’s face, a look that quickly changed to disbelief tinged with fear and anger. Barra looked much the same, but he said nothing, simply continued to calm Sibeal and try to get some answers from the child.
“Now ye try to make game of me,” Alexander snapped, grasping Ailis by the arm and giving her a little shake.
“Nay, but I dinna think anything I can say will change your mind on that.” Ailis did nothing to hide her annoyance with his suspicion, for, after two weeks of suffering his distrust, she was heartily sick of it. “The only solution is for ye to play along and see the truth for yourself. Unless ye have something else ye must do.”
“Not at the moment. So, go ahead, make a fool of yourself.”
Ailis ached to tell him exactly who the fool was between them, but bit back her words. “Is there a place near at hand where a man could toss something off a cliff into a stream?”
“Aye,” answered Barra when Alexander just muttered something crude. “About a mile from here. Pagan’s Point.”
“Pagan’s Point?” Ailis asked.
“When the people in this area first accepted the Christian faith, they remained tolerant of those who resisted it. Then we got our own priest, and he convinced them that those who didna accept God must be accepting the devil. So, the people gathered up all those who clung to the old ways and hurled them off Pagan’s Point.”
“A good plummet to your death making it easier to find God, I suppose.” Ailis shook her head. “Well, let us go to this Pagan’s Point, then. If ‘tis the right place, Sibeal will ken it as we get nearer.”
“Ye will ride with me,” Alexander said as he grasped Ailis’s hand.
They headed toward the stable, and Ailis used the time to calm herself. Sibeal revealing her strange talent so abruptly was unsettling, but Alexander was more so. He held her close all night, made wild sweet love to her, and spoke the prettiest words she had ever heard. Come the dawn and he became the man he was now—cold and distant, with occasional flashes of anger when he deigned to speak to her at all.
She felt the tension in Alexander as, once their horses were ready, he yanked her up to ride behind him. Sibeal rode with her father, the twins shared a pony, and two men-at-arms rode with them. Alexander grunted what few commands he gave out, and Ailis decided he was an extraordinarily ill-tempered man. She barely had time to tell the stableboy to let Jaime know they had gone so that he would not worry before Alexander urged them all on their way. Her only consolation was that he planned to reveal her as a conniving wench who would trick a child into lying for her, but he was about to suffer a shocking dose of cold, hard fact. Ailis just prayed that Sibeal would not suffer.
Ailis’s heart ached and she was weary of the pain. She knew she felt far more than passion for the man, but he ground those more tender feelings beneath his bootheel each and every morning. Each night there was beauty, and each morning there was ugliness. She felt used, yet could not resist the heated sweetness of another night in his arms. Even now, with her arms about his trim waist and her cheek against his broad back, she wanted him, yet he was as stiff as an offended spinster. Ailis knew she was going to have to make some decision soon. If she continued to share his bed, she risked being marked a whore and losing all dignity. To ease that shame she needed more from him than hunger in the night and callous indifference all day, and he was not giving it to her. Soon she would have to accept that one did not always get what one hoped for.
When Alexander reined to a halt, Ailis was abruptly yanked from her dark thoughts about leaving Alexander’s bed. She saw Barra dismount and help Sibeal down. They had come to a halt not far from the edge of a dangerous precipice. Across a shallow gorge from them was a piece of land that jutted out farther than the rest. That was undoubtedly Pagan’s Point, she decided. Without waiting for Alexander’s help, she dismounted and hurried over to help Barra with Sibeal. The poor man was beginning to look very unsure of himself. Even the twins’ rushing to his side did not make him look any more confident.
“She says this is the place,” Barra murmured, then looked straight at Ailis. “I wouldst like it if ye would now tell me that ye play a game with me.”
“I canna, Barra. Believe me, I understand how ye feel. I didna want to hear this myself,” Ailis said.
“What ye ken is a lot of nonsense,” Alexander said, his tone hard and angry as he joined them, his two men-at-arms watching them all warily as they secured the horses. “I think this game has gone on long enough. ‘Tis but some trick to try and escape.”
“Without bringing Jaime along?” Ailis gave him a disgusted look and turned her attention to Sibeal. “Is this the place where ye saw the puppies?”
“How could she see them here? She has never been to this place.” Alexander’s eyes widened at the way Ailis whirled and glared at him. “I grow weary of this foolishness.”
“Then leave. We can do well enough without ye. I think the most important thing right now is to soothe Sibeal. Doing as she says is the only way. When she is proved right or wrong, ‘tis done, and we can all go home.” She turned back to Sibeal. “Are they here now, sweet?”
“Aye,” Sibeal answered. “Down there.” She went to the edge and pointed at a spot a few yards downriver from Pagan’s Point. “There is where the puppies will be. We have to go down there and catch them.”
“There is a steep path over here, Aunt,” called Manus a moment after he and Rath began a hasty search for a way down.
“Are ye sure we must go down there, child?” Ailis asked Sibeal even as the little girl grabbed her by the hand and tugged her toward the rocky path the twins were already scrambling down.
“Aye. We canna catch them up here. I am sorry I told Papa, Aunt Ailis, but I had to save the puppies.”
“Of course ye did.” Ailis heard Alexander order his men-at-arms to watch the horses, and she looked back briefly to see the Laird of Rathmor gracefully climb down after them. “I think ye have upset your uncle the most.”
Sibeal nodded. “He is a very sad man.”
“That he is, loving.” And I grow weary of being battered by it, she thought to herself as she paid closer attention to the uneven path.
Alexander muttered a curse as he quickly followed Barra, the children, and Ailis. He could see nothing on the ground on either side of the stream, yet they were all risking their necks to hurry down a treacherous path because a tiny child said puppies were there. It was tempting to order an end to it all, yet Alexander knew Ailis was right. The little girl needed to have her dreams proved or disproved. It was the only way to put an end to the matter.
Ailis brushed off her skirts when they finally reached the beach, which was nearly as rocky as the path. “Where are the puppies, Sibeal?” she asked her niece.
“They will come soon, Aunt.” Sibeal stood and stared up at Pagan’s Point as Barra brushed off the child’s clothes.
It suddenly occurred to Ailis that she had not adequately gotten the time of the incident from Sibeal. The arrival of the puppies could be now or several months from now. Poor Sibeal was still new even to speaking of her dreams. Just as Ailis was about to ask Sibeal, Alexander gave her a rough nudge from behind. She frowned, saw him pointing toward Pagan’s Point, and looked to see a man ride up.
At first Ailis did not know which to watch—the point where Sibeal’s dream was being acted out, or Alexander’s reaction. After a second hard look at Alexander, she decided he was the one who bore watching. His face had gone parchment white. She knew he was not going to accept Sibeal’s gift very well at all.
“There are the puppies!” Sibeal yelled, and when the man tossed them into the gorge, she started to cry.
While Alexander and Barra scrambled to get the sack out of the shallow, swift stream, Ailis struggled to hold on to her niece and nephews. The moment the MacDubhs set the sack on shore and Alexander neatly sliced it open, Ailis released the children. She hurried after them, reluctantly curious.
“Hurry, Aunt,” called Sibeal. “They are so afraid and hurt.”
“What does she mean?” Alexander demanded as Ailis reached his side.
“She feels things,” Ailis answered as she saw Barra and the twins release six shaken, wet, but living puppies.
“Feels things?”
“Aye, m’laird—feels things. Anyone can guess how those poor pups must have felt to be stuffed into a sack and tossed off a cliff, but Sibeal can actually feel it.”
“And ye expect me to actually believe all of this?”
“Do as ye please, m’laird, but I would advise ye to learn to pay heed when Sibeal tells ye something about a person. It could make the difference between life and death.” She sighed when Alexander just cursed, then hurried back up the path. It did not surprise her when a moment later she heard a horse ride away, and she turned her attention back to a badly shaken Barra.
“I ask ye again to tell me that this was some game, Ailis,” Barra demanded as he sat down on a rock and stared at the children, who were busily examining the puppies.
Ailis sat down next to him and patted his arm. “I truly wish I could. ‘Tis a hard thing to accept. I keep hoping it will yet go away.” She gave him a weak smile when he briefly laughed. “People dinna like it. It makes them afraid. I find that fear dangerous.”
Barra grimaced and nodded. “We shall have to teach her to be secretive.”
“Aye, and I think she can learn that. ‘Tis that she has only just begun to talk about what she sees and feels. Talk about it in a way that made me truly understand that she has a gift. I have been so busy trying to teach her to speak more clearly about it and accept that she has such a skill that I havena stressed caution as much as I should. I have told her that people might think bad things about her, but that is such a difficult thing for a child to understand.” She glanced up at the top of the rise where the horses were and thought on Alexander’s abrupt departure. “The sight is something many people dinna like and dinna want.”
After one long look up the path, Barra nodded. “Alexander has always hated such things. He willna hate Sibeal for it, though. He may have changed a lot in the past few years, grown harder and more bitter, but he loves the bairns. ‘Tis a shame he lost his own bairn, for he would have been a good father. He was for the short time she was alive.”
“Alexander had a child?” Ailis was shocked and, she realized, a little hurt.
“Aye. She was a sweet little girl, much like Sibeal. Her name was Elizbet. She was his child by his first wife, whose morals were very weak. That wife died, and it was a while before Alex married again. His first wife may have been a whore but his second wife was evil, vicious, demented. There was a sickness in her mind. When she finally died, she didna go alone. She took poor Elizbet with her. The child is buried in the kirkyard just beyond Rathmor. I dinna believe Alexander has ever recovered.”
“Nay. ‘Tis not something ye can recover from, not fully,” she murmured, suddenly aware of a better understanding of Alexander, even a sympathy. “He holds a lot of anger in his heart.”
“He does, but ‘tis past time he ceased to spit it out at everyone. Even his friends lose patience.”
“Alexander has friends?” She smiled when he laughed, pleased that the shock of discovering the truth about Sibeal had begun to fade. “We had better return. There is the hint of rain in the air.”
Barra nodded, stood up, and helped Ailis to her feet. “I have six new pups, dinna I?”
“I fear so,” she agreed, smiling at the children, who were gathering up the wriggling puppies. “Sibeal has a big heart for such a little girl. Ye could find yourself knee-deep in abandoned or hurt animals or people.”
“Then we shall have to teach her to be selective as well as secretive,” he said as he and Ailis moved to shepherd the children back to Rathmor.
Alexander remained sprawled in his chair as Ailis entered his bedchamber. He had managed to avoid her, Barra, and the children since they had returned from Pagan’s Point. He had even managed to avoid dining with them in the great hall. Now, however, it was time to go to bed. Alexander had been tempted to stay away longer, to lurk in his small solar and drink until he was certain Ailis was asleep, but the urge to be with her was ever stronger.
A niece with the sight, he thought and almost laughed. If there was one thing he could have considered worse than a niece with MacFarlane blood, a niece with the sight would have been it. One reason he had avoided everyone’s company since discovering Sibeal’s skill was so that he could better convince himself that it had all been some trick, even just some piece of inexplicable luck. He had almost done so; only a small uneasiness remained. He hoped Ailis would not talk about Sibeal’s unusual skills, but the way Ailis was eyeing him as she moved to wash up told him that he would probably not get that wished-for reprieve. In one last attempt to avoid any conversation, he stood up, shed his clothes, and climbed into bed. It was cowardly, he mused, but it just might work.
Ailis gave a start of surprise when Alexander suddenly got undressed and got into bed. She then spared a moment of annoyance over the way he had thrown his clothes all over the floor. The great laird, she grumbled to herself, is having himself a fine sulk. She shook her head and began to wash up. While she still felt a great deal of sympathy for him, she did not intend to pander to this foolishness.
Stripped down to a short, plain chemise, she walked over to his side of the bed. He lay sprawled on his stomach looking almost endearing except that his manly beauty tended to distract her. Ailis knew her position at Rathmor was precarious, but she was also Sibeal’s aunt. She had to know how Alexander would treat the child now.
“What will ye do about Sibeal?” she demanded.
“I havena given it much thought.” He opened one eye and heartily wished that Ailis did not look so adorable.
“Hay! Ye have done naught else but think about it since ye fled Pagan’s Point.”
He abruptly sat up to glare at her. “I didna flee Pagan’s Point.”
“Oh, aye, ye did. Ye hied away as if all of the hounds of hell bayed at your heels.”
“I think ye forget who ye are, what your place is here, and whom ye are speaking to!”
She had not expected him to grow quite so furious, but she held firm for Sibeal’s sake. “I havena forgotten any of that. I am a MacFarlane, I am your prisoner, and ye are the constantly irritated Laird of Rathmor. I am also Sibeal’s aunt, the woman who has had the raising of her. ‘Tis about Sibeal I mean to speak, and I expect to be heeded.”
“Ye do, do ye?” He could not fully suppress some admiration for her as she stood there prepared to defend or protect her niece.
“Aye, I do. Did ye think she wouldna see how ye ran away and have stayed away?”
Alexander felt the heat of guilty color sting his cheeks. He had not thought on the child’s feelings, but had been completely caught up in his own tangled emotions. There was no doubt in his mind that the child would have seen his retreat for what it was. And it was now too late to make amends, for the children had long been abed. Alexander looked at Ailis and decided he would not admit that to her, however.
“I needed to think about what I had seen,” he finally replied.
“And what great decision have ye come to?”
“I believe ye all give too much weight to mere luck and coincidence.”
“I was once blind to the truth, too.”
“That is the truth.” He saw her shiver and held up the covers on her side of the bed. “Get in ere ye catch a chill.”
“The truth is that Sibeal has the sight.” Ailis scrambled beneath the covers but kept her gaze fixed upon him. “I fear that comes from her mother’s kinsmen. Our grandmother, our mother’s mother, had the sight. She claimed she had always had it.”
“Did ye see any proof?” He turned on his side to face her.
“She was dead ere I was of an age to judge the truth of her claim.”
‘So, ye have no one—and nothing—to compare Sibeal to. Ye can only work on superstitions and myths.”
Ailis laughed and shook her head, amazed at his stubbornness. “Do ye call what happened today naught but superstition and myth? How can ye deny what ye saw and what ye heard?”
“What I saw was us drag some stray dog’s whelps out of the water. The lass could have heard someone talk of drowning the pups. All the rest was just the upset of a tenderhearted child.”
It was difficult to resist the urge to pound her heels against the bed in frustration. “Fine, we willna argue the truth of her sight. ‘Tis up to ye to believe it or not. However, how do you mean to treat poor Sibeal as ye debate this matter?” When he just stared at her, she pressed, “Well, I want an answer.”
“Ye act very arrogant for a wench who is naught but a tool of revenge,” he drawled.
That was cruel. Ailis fought desperately to hide the truth of that from Alexander. As she learned more about him, she was beginning to understand him, even to recognize the occasional hints of meanness as his hurt and bitterness lashing out. It was her own fault that she had let her emotions become so entangled that his anger could hurt her. She just had to keep remembering that she was not the cause of that fury, did not deserve to be stung by his bitter words, and therefore would ignore them. She would also not allow herself to be intimidated by this cold, angry Alexander.
“I am as much a blood kin to Sibeal as ye are,” she said in a cold voice and noticed a fleeting look of discomfort on Alexander’s face. “I willna let ye hurt the child.”
Alexander was outraged and cursed. “I would never hurt a child!”
“Not intentionally, but ‘tis just what ye did when ye turned from her after she revealed her skills. Ye have to let her see that ye still care for her. Ye are cold, Alexander MacDubh, but—“
“Cold?” He abruptly turned so that he was lightly sprawled on top of her. “I dinna feel very cold now.”
Ailis found it impossible to ignore how the feel of him heated her blood, but she refused to let him divert her. “I have asked ye what ye mean to do about Sibeal. I must have an answer.” Her last words were muffled as Alexander tugged off her chemise.
“I will speak to Sibeal in the morning.” Alexander began to brush soft kisses over her face as he gently stroked her body with his hands and enjoyed the way her desires flared to life with a swiftness to equal his.
“And say what?” She found the speed with which he could make her want to forget everyone but his touch a little frightening.
“That she is my niece even if she grows a beard and a second head, and assure her that she isna what I draw back from. I will make it clear that, although I may dislike or disbelieve her gift, I dinna extend such feelings to her herself. Does that make ye happy?”
“It at least makes me confident that ye will try to spare the child’s feelings.”
Alexander studied her face, the way her golden-hued skin was blushed by desire’s heat and her eyes had darkened almost to black. In the depths of her alluring eyes he saw a sadness and realized that he wanted to banish that sorrow, yet doubted he would be able to do so.
“Ye have never really been happy, have ye?” he asked softly.
“Happy enough. As happy as most people.” Ailis did not appreciate the man’s sudden insight.
He slowly eased their bodies together, enjoying the expression of pleasure she could not hide. “Does this make ye happy?”
“Aye, for a while. For the time it lasts.”
“Then we had best try to make it last as long as possible,” he murmured and kissed her.
As Ailis let his lovemaking take her into that welcome realm of blind need, she wished she could make him say such things about far more than their passions.