The Craving (Rogues of Scotland #1) (7 page)

“That’s what I’m for,” he said, suddenly happy at the delight in her gray eyes.

“You would’ve been a good laird, Ronan.”

He looked away. “It was never my position to have.”

“Aye, but it’s in your blood.”

Ronan wanted to change the subject. He hated thinking of his past. “And how long will you be here?”

“Who knows,” she replied flippantly.

But Ronan instantly knew she was keeping something from him. “I thought you said your aunt gave you leave to remain here.”

“She did.”

He took a drink of his ale and surveyed the great hall before he turned his head to her. “What are you no’ telling me, lass?”

“Nothing,” she was quick to assure him.

Ronan let it go. For the moment. It was difficult for him to concentrate with his body aching with desire for her. She was sitting next to him, but he couldn’t touch her.

In all his years, not once had he held back from taking whatever he wanted. Why was he stopping now? Especially after already having Meg.

And the answer was the woman herself.

He wanted to protect her, shelter her. He saw the honesty and passion in her eyes. She looked at him as if he were worthy of her, and he found he desperately wanted to be worthy.

When the meal was finished, Ronan relaxed for a while before he scooted back his chair and held out his hand. “Walk with me, sweet Meg.”

Her gray eyes darkened from the shared attraction and intimacy. How he wanted to jerk her against him and kiss her in front of everyone. To claim what was his.

With her hand in his, Ronan escorted her up the stairs to the battlements and out into the night. 

“There are too many clouds to see the stars,” Meg said.

“I didna bring you out here to see the stars. I brought you out here for this,” he said as he pulled her against him and covered her mouth with his.

The explosion of desire was instantaneous, urgent. 

Blazing.

His hands slid into the cool locks of her hair and held her captive as he ravaged her mouth. She was beauty, innocence, temptation, and strength.

She was his weakness, and his power.

His.

Ronan ended the kiss, his breathing harsh as he tried to control his raging body. Meg rested her head on his chest as they held each other.

“This is like a dream,” she whispered into the night.

A dream that was unsettling. Ronan didn’t understand the fierce feelings rolling through him. Maybe if he did he could just accept them.

It wasn’t just the strange emotions, there was also the burning need to claim her again that pounded through his veins with a constant beat.

He smoothed her hair away from her face and rested his chin atop her head. “If you doona talk of something, I’m going to lift your skirts right here and take you.”

“That sounds...exciting.”

Ronan closed his eyes and groaned.  “Doona tempt me.”

“What do I talk about?”

“You can tell me what you didna in the great hall. How long do you plan to remain at the castle?”

He felt her take a deep breath before she said, “Until Aunt Tilly dies, I suspect.”

“Is she that aged?”

“She’s an old woman. Many are surprised she has lived this long.”

“And the castle is hers?”

“In a manner,” Meg answered. “It was her brother’s who had no heirs. He left the castle and lands to Aunt Tilly’s eldest who is laird of his own castle.”

Now Ronan understand it all. “You think your cousin will make you leave?”

“I’m sure he will.”

“Why? You’re taking care of his castle. I see it as a reason for him to want to keep you. If he doesna, he’ll have to hire a steward to do it.”

Meg’s head lifted as she looked at him. “I hadn’t thought of that. Do you really think he would consider it?”

“I doona see why you can no’ plead your case if you do a good enough job, which it seems you have. Who was here before?”

“Aunt Tilly for several years, but she’s taken to visiting family now. Until I came, there was no one.”

Ronan chuckled. “It almost sounds like destiny.”

“Almost.”

Their gazes locked, and the simmering passion flared again. Ronan turned her toward the door to walk her to his chamber when a lone shape in the darkness snared his gaze.

Even from the distance he recognized the gypsy woman from the cottage, and a ripple of unease rippled down his spine.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Meg knew something was wrong by the way Ronan’s body stiffened. She glanced over and spotted Ina just before the old woman moved back into the shadows.

“That was odd,” Meg said as they entered the castle. “I can’t remember the last time Ina left her cottage.”

Ronan said not a word as he escorted her down the corridor. A glance at him showed Meg that anger and worry simmered just below the surface.

“She won’t bother you,” Meg told him. 

“There will be little you can do to stop the gypsy.”

“How do you know she’s a gypsy? No one has ever said anything like that about Ina.” Especially Aunt Tilly. In a short order of time, Meg had begun to think there really was something like magic in Scotland. And someone had to be able to use that magic.

“I know what she is,” Ronan stated coldly. “It’s in her eyes, and the way she stared at me. A gypsy recognizes one who has been cursed.”

Meg stopped and faced Ronan, forcing him to halt as well. “You earned your freedom.”

“Have I? I’m no’ so sure. Knowing Ilinca, it wouldna be so easy as to find a woman who said I didna have to return to the mirror. Ilinca would make things much more difficult.”

“What could you possibly do to ensure that the mirror would never be your prison again?”  The thought of Ronan disappearing left her...cold.

“That wisdom she didna impart, and I suspect on purpose.”

Meg might not be in control of her own life, but she could help Ronan. She covered her mouth as she faked a huge yawn. “It’s been a long day.”

“Aye,” he said and frowned at her. “Let me see you to your chamber.”

How deeply his mind was entranced with the curse was evident by the way he deposited her at her chamber door with a quiet good-night and turned on his heel to walk in the direction of his chamber.

Meg let out a long sigh. Magic. Gypsies. Mirrors as prisons. It was all laughable, or should be. 

If Ina really were a gypsy, then she would be able to answer Meg’s questions. Meg hurried down the stairs into the great hall and came to a halt when she saw Aunt Tilly standing in the doorway.

Aunt Tilly was a loud, boisterous sort that even old age couldn’t dim. She was laughing at something one of the maids said, her voice easily carrying around the hall while she leaned heavily upon her cane.

Meg smiled as soon as Tilly’s direct blue gaze landed on her. Her aunt opened her arms, and Meg walked into them to be enveloped in a fierce hug that was unexpected from the thin, frail looking woman.

“You look more yourself,” Aunt Tilly said and then pulled back. She scrutinized Meg’s face with shrewd eyes for several silent moments. “Meg, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you found yourself a man.”

Meg could feel the color drain from her face. No one was supposed to know. How had her aunt figured it out?

“About time,” Aunt Tilly said and pulled her in for another hug.

Once released, Meg turned so that Tilly could lean on her as they walked to the solar. “I had no idea you were coming.”

“I didn’t either, my dear. Just a feeling I had that I wanted to see you. It seems your time at Ravensclyde has done you good.”

“Very much so.” Meg thought of Ronan and how he had touched her so gently.

“And the man?”

Meg swallowed, unsure of how much to tell Tilly. “He arrived recently and needed work. He’s helping with odd jobs.”

Aunt Tilly made an odd sound at the back of her throat. “And the furniture in the attic. Did you find anything that appealed to you?”

“Several pieces.” She helped Tilly into a chair and sat beside her. “Some are being refinished or recovered. A few have already been dispersed throughout the castle after a good cleaning.”

“That’s good to hear, but was there anything in there that drew you?”

Maybe it was the way that Tilly’s sharp blue eyes watched her so carefully, or maybe it was the tone her aunt used, but Meg had a feeling Aunt Tilly knew all about the mirror in the attic.

Her aunt suddenly smiled and sat back, both of her hands resting atop her cane. “Ah. I see that you found it. I suspect that your new worker is Ronan.”

“You know him?” Meg felt as if the chair had been yanked from beneath her as the world tilted precariously. 

“I do. He’s the one who put that glow in your cheeks, isn’t he?”

Meg nodded woodenly, still trying to grasp what was going on. “If you know Ronan, then you let him out of the mirror?”

“That was me, aye. Newly married into the Alpin family, I just happened to find the mirror that had been hidden in the attic.”

“You put him back in that prison. Why?” Meg couldn’t believe her aunt could be so cruel.

Aunt Tilly glanced at the floor. “I didn’t want to, but Ina said I must.”

“Ina. I was on my way to see her when you arrived.”

“She wouldn’t tell you anything, Meg. You see, she told me to put Ronan back in his prison until it was time for him to be released again.”

Meg stood, appalled and angry. “So Ina is a gypsy? Do all gypsies hate Ronan so much that they want him to suffer for eternity? Ilinca said he could earn his freedom. I’ve given it to him.”

“It’s not that simple,” Tilly said softly. She let out a long sigh, her stare hard and unmoving. “Sit, Meg. Please.”

She wanted to rush up to Ronan, or out to Ina, and demand to know the truth. Instead, Meg resumed her seat and waited.

Tilly rubbed her swollen knuckles. “Aye, Ina is a gypsy. As I’m sure you’ve figured out, there is such a thing as magic in our wonderful land. The gypsies have a way with curses that make them so unbreakable that not even another gypsy can destroy it.

“Ina knew of the mirror. Her family had remained on Alpin land to keep watch over the times Ronan was let out.”

Meg’s shoulders slumped.  “The first time he was released from the mirror he ran away. It was a gypsy that sent him back wasn’t it?”

Tilly’s face scrunched. “In a way. It was also his prison that pulled him back. I wanted to help Ronan.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Ina said there would be another Alpin woman who would release him. There was a chance that he could earn his freedom at that time.”

Meg licked her lips. “How does he earn his freedom?”

“Ina wouldn’t tell me. Nor will she tell you,” Tilly quickly said when Meg started to rise.

Meg huffed out a breath as she stayed seated. “I want to help him. He made a mistake, but he didn’t kill Ana. She killed herself because she couldn’t take rejection. Why should he be punished for that?”

Tilly reached over and set her gnarled hand atop Meg’s. “Not everyone is as strong as you, my dear. Even in your darkest hour after that bastard ran off with your dowry and left you waiting at the altar, I knew you would come through it all.”

“My chances at finding another man to marry are nonexistent, aunt. I have no dowry.”

“For some, you won’t have to.”

Meg looked up at the ceiling as she once more thought of Ronan. “Wishful thinking on both our parts.” Meg hated the pain she felt in her heart as she realized the truth of her words. “Ronan abhors marriage, and he has every right to after what his mother did to his father. He doesn’t trust women.”

“Do you...care...for him?”

Meg met her aunt’s gaze. “I didn’t think I’d ever be able to have feelings like this again. Ronan barreled into my life, but he has opened my heart and my mind to the possibility that happiness could be mine. If I dared to reach for it.”

“Are you willing to fight for him?”

“Fight for a man that will do anything to keep from being married?” Meg asked in disbelief. The answer swelled within her. “If there is even a wee chance I could have a future with Ronan, I would have to do it honestly. No manipulation, no lies, and no deceit. I would have to win him with my feelings.”

Tilly nodded in approval. “If anyone can do it, you can. You keep saying you care for him, and that you have feelings, but is it love?”

Was it love? Meg recalled how he had taken her in his arms and kissed her with such abandon, touched her with unrestraint. 

Made love to her as if there were no tomorrow.

Her stomach quivered as she recalled the hungry desire that had flared in his eyes right before he kissed her. He hadn’t spent all his time with her, and the women of the castle had certainly taken notice of him. Yet he hadn’t eased himself with any of them. Only her.

Was it because she held the key to whether he returned to the mirror or not? The euphoria blossoming within her withered at the thought.

“Meg?” Aunt Tilly called.

Meg rose to her feet, her stomach a ball of knots. “I’ve had a very long day.”

“Of course,” her aunt said with sharp eyes. “Why don’t you send Ronan down to me?”

Meg nodded as she hurried out of the solar and ascended the stairs. Each step weighted her down until she felt as if she carried the world upon her shoulders.

Her hand shook when she raised it to knock on Ronan’s door. The door was yanked open, and Ronan stood before her, his eyes as troubled as before.

“You doona look well. Are you all right?” he asked.

Meg couldn’t calm her heart it beat so fast. “Aunt Tilly just arrived. She would like to see you in the solar.”

“All right. First, tell me what’s wrong.”

She hated the concern in his gaze. It made her feel special, and she knew better than most how easily she could be duped. She was afraid to ask Ronan why he was really with her, because she was terrified of the truth.

Meg tried to turn away, but Ronan pulled her against him, his strong arms wrapping around her. He held her to his chest, giving her comfort. “I doona know what I’ve done, but it wasna on purpose, whatever it is.”