The Clan MacDougall Series (29 page)

She had assumed they all danced with her at Duncan’s request. “Nay! I thought they only danced with me because you asked them too.”

To think for even a moment that it had been for any other reason was something that neither her heart nor her mind could grasp. “I thought you did it to be brotherly to me.”

Duncan let out a very deep and heavy sigh and ran his hand through his hair. He could not hold himself in any longer.

“Aishlinn, I dinna ask any of them to dance with ye!” He began pacing around the small area in which they stood. “They danced with ye because yer a beautiful woman, no’ because I put them up to it!” He hadn’t meant to raise his voice and he was very glad to see that she did not cower in fear, as she would have done not too long ago.

He continued to pace. “If ’twere up to me, ye’d no’ have danced with any of them!”

Certain she was that it was just his brotherly affections for her that made him want to protect her, she walked to him and placed her hand upon his arm.

“Duncan, ’tis nothing to worry over.” She tried to get him to look at her. “Such an overly protective brother you are!”

His fierce blue eyes pinned her in place as he let out a very slow breath. “Aishlinn, I can assure ye my thoughts and feelings for ye are far from brotherly.” His jaw ached from clenching it. “They’re down right sinful.”

She was completely astounded by his remark and she knew not how to respond to it. Certainly he had consumed far too much ale. Her heart warned her against thinking anything else.

“Aishlinn, if I were to kiss ye right now ye’d know it no’ to be a brotherly kiss, but one filled with great passion and want of ye.”

Such a strange look he had upon his face. As she stood frozen, too flummoxed even to blush, she tried to make sense of what he was saying but her mind was unable to focus. Certainly he could not be serious that he wanted to kiss her.

’Twas then that he did the most remarkable thing. He took her face into his hands. He paused long enough to look into her eyes for just a moment before he bent and touched her lips with his own.

Good Lord above she could not breathe! ’Twas the most tender and gentle of kisses. Her knees buckled, her heart stopped beating and for the life of her she still could not breathe!

She melted into him them, returning his kiss as she wrapped her arms around his waist. Certainly it was instinct that kicked in, helping her to respond to his touch, for she had no experience to guide her. It seemed her heart was having a fierce battle with her stomach to see which could jump from her body first.

The kiss deepened becoming more passionate as the moments passed. He slid a hand around her neck and drew her in closer. He did not want this moment, the kiss or the way he felt to ever end. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted any woman or any thing in his life. His heart pounded ferociously when he felt her melt into his arms. It was nearly all he could do to keep from taking her then and there on the rooftop.

When she felt she was about to faint from lack of air she pushed herself away. She wondered how long it would be before she would regain the feeling in her legs. Her mind swirled with excitement, shock and wonder. Many a time in the past, she had wondered what her first kiss would be like. What the earl had done to her, as far as she was concerned, did not count. Duncan’s kiss was the kiss dreams were made of.

Standing there in the dark she looked at him, still quite surprised at what he had said and what they had just done. It took a moment or two before she found her voice.

“Why?” It was the only word she could find the strength to utter.

“Why what, Aishlinn?” he said as he smiled at her, wanting to take her in his arms again and to kiss her for the next fifty years or so. He, too, thought it a most splendid feeling when his lips touched hers. It was something he was quite anxious to feel again.

“Why did you kiss me?”

Duncan smiled as he pulled her back to him and looked deep into her eyes. “There are many reasons, Aishlinn,” he told her.

“’Tis yer beauty. ’Tis the way yer dark green eyes get a fire in them when yer sore at me. ’Tis the way ye walk and talk and the way ye laugh. ’Tis the way ye treat everyone so kindly. ’Tis everything about ye, Aishlinn.”

She could not have been more stunned had he sprouted a second head. “But certainly you would want a more buxom woman, someone worldly, someone who would set your soul on fire. I am not that kind of woman Duncan! Look at me! I’m—”

He kissed her again before she could say anything else. Her mind raced in a thousand different directions at once. She had wished for this moment, had prayed for it. But she had convinced herself weeks ago that such a thing could not be. As their kiss deepened, she felt all those disinclined thoughts begin to fade away.

She was melting into a pool of something unrecognizable. She wrapped her arms around his neck, unable to think of anything but this kiss. Playfully he nibbled at her bottom lip with his teeth and as she opened her mouth to gasp, his tongue began to search for hers.

Unbelievable sensations began to come over her. Certainly it was not a proper and ladylike thing to do, to allow a man to touch her tongue with his own! She tossed that notion aside. She cared not if it were proper for it brought the most magnificent sensation to her body. She grew quite warm and her knees grew weaker the longer they kissed.

It was as if a deep fire of want and passion had been set aflame in his belly. ’Twas more than just a physical desire to be with her, to lift her skirts and take her then and there. Nay, it was so much more than that. His soul ached for her to be his, for her to love him with the same intensity that he loved her. He wanted her heart.

He had not lied to her; it had been everything about her that made him mad with want and desire. His heart melted like the wax of a candle when he felt her return his kiss again. Knowing well that she had not ever been with a man made him want her all the more. It was more than her beauty and her heart, ’twas her innocence that made him love her.

Aishlinn felt that if she did not come up for air soon she most assuredly would faint. Knowing it would probably not impress Duncan much, to have her drop to the ground from lack of air, she finally pushed herself away.

“I must come up for air, Duncan!” she whispered to him, afraid to let go of his arms for fear she would fall. She fought to take air into her lungs and her body seemed to have lost all control of itself.

“Now,” he asked smiling at her, “do ye believe me when I say that yer beautiful?”

She shook her head, unable to think clearly, unable to find her voice. “I think so,” she said, her legs still quaking.

“Did ye like that kiss?” he asked her.

“Aye,” she said taking in deep breaths. It took several moments before she could finally look into his eyes. She knew not how to describe the intensity of it, the way her body quivered. She decided she needed to say something for fear of appearing a fool. “It was quite nice.”

Her face burned when he laughed at her. “Quite nice?” he asked as he bent down and kissed her upon her neck, in that tender spot right behind her ear. She had to remind herself to breathe again.

“Did it make yer legs quiver?” he asked playfully.

Her eyes were closed and she could not answer for his lips made it impossible to say anything. She could not even respond by nodding her head. She’d been reduced to a quivering pool of jelly, unable to think let alone form any type of coherent sentence. Who knew such power could exist in a kiss or a touch?

“Did it make yer heart feel as though it would leap from yer chest?” He asked as he ran the very tip of his tongue along the whole length of her slender neck. She wondered how he knew it as chill bumps came to her skin. ’Twas an exquisite sensation.

He finally put his lips upon hers to kiss her, to taste her, to let her know through that kiss that he wanted her, needed her, and that he loved her. He traced the outline of her arms with one hand while the other clung to her waist.

He wished he could feel her bare skin against his own as he traced his fingers along her arm up to her shoulder before gently moving down her back. A passion swelled in him, a passion that ran deeper than any ocean as he felt his manhood begin to swell.

Fervent want, a desperate need to have her skin against his, to feel her naked and warm against his own body, the thought of taking her then and there became too much. No matter how badly he wanted it, he could not do that to her. Aishlinn was special, sweet and innocent. She was everything he never knew he would want in a woman.

Though he could no longer hide his feelings for her, he could give her the respect she deserved. He would take his time to court her before he would ask for her hand in marriage. A few months ago he would have laughed at such the notion of marriage, of settling down. Now it was all he could think of. How long, he wondered was a proper courtship? If he had not worried she would run from him in terror, he would have summoned a priest immediately.

Excitement began to swell in parts of her body that she had not known she even possessed until he had kissed her. She found herself aching, wanting and needing him with a hunger she had never experienced before. It was all so very new and very exciting yet it terrified her at the same time. How could he want her? Would she sorely disappoint him?

Duncan could stand it no more and knew well that if he did not end the kiss that he could not be held responsible for the actions that would most assuredly follow. Gently, he pulled her away. “Aishlinn, I fear we must stop now.”

Disappointed, she gasped, “Why?”

A broad smile came to his face. “I fear if we do not stop now, I’ll do all manner of quite sinful and wicked things to ye.”

Aishlinn took a deep breath, certain she knew what he meant. She was tempted to tell him that he could do anything he wanted to her as long as he continued to kiss her.

He rested his chin upon her forehead as he tried to steady his own breathing. He was glad that he had finally succumbed to the need if not to directly tell her, then to show her how he felt about her. His only hope was that he could be patient with her during the proper courting process.

When she felt her heartbeat begin to slow, she could not resist the urge to hug him. There were so many questions she had, questions she was terrified to ask. Did he want her as he would a wife, or would she be nothing more than a conquest? Not having the courage to ask it outright, she whispered into his chest, “What now, Duncan?”

He kissed her tenderly upon her forehead and smiled. “I would verra much like yer permission to court ye properly, lass.” He closed his eyes and prayed she would say yes. “If that is something ye would like as well.”

As she hugged him again, he could feel a sense of relief wash over her. “I would like that very much,” she said softly. “But I must warn you, I’ve never been courted.”

Duncan chuckled at her. “’Tis all right, lass. I’ll help ye through it.”

She could hear the mischievousness in his voice and found she rather liked it. She held on to him, wanting never to let go. She smiled when she thought of this tall, handsome Highlander who not long ago terrified her and now whose arms were the only place she felt truly safe. He wanted to court her. ’Twas delightful indeed.

T
oo much whiskey consumed over the past few months had turned his eyes yellow and glassy. His skin hung loosely on his face and it held the gray pallor of someone much older than his true years. It gave one the impression that death was probably not far off. When death finally came for him there would be no one to mourn the loss.

He lay there in his dirty bed, propped up against dingy pillows. Attacked by a fit of coughing that brought large wads of phlegm to his mouth, he spat across the room. He wiped his sweaty face and phlegm-covered mouth onto the sleeve of his stained nightshirt. His lungs begged for fresh air but he was far too ill to leave his room.

It wasn’t a disease that had attacked him; it was his own mind. He tried yelling for the chambermaid but he was too weak to yell loud enough to be heard. Angry that he had been like this for far too long, he picked up the mug from beside his bed and threw it against the wall. Moments later, a very frightened chambermaid came rushing into his room to see what was the matter.

“Where is Edward?” His attempt at shouting sounded more like a harsh whisper. “I need Edward now!” The yelling brought about another coughing fit. The frightened young chambermaid curtsied and left quickly without saying a word.

“Once I’m well again,” he said to the closed door, “You’ll not be looking at me that way, ye whore!”

He lay there for a long while before his champion, Edward, came into the room. Trying to hide the pity and disgust he held for the sickly man, Edward said, “What is it you need, sire?”

“Have you found the whore yet?” he demanded to know, needed to know. Death might be nearer than he wanted to admit to, but he refused to die until the wench was returned to Penrith and he had killed her with his bare hands.

“As I told you earlier sire, we are still looking for her.” Edward had returned just that morning from searching the lands north of Castle Firth. There was no sign of the one the earl referred to simply as “the whore”.