The Highwayman of Tanglewood (31 page)

“I will send someone to assist you with your exodus,” he said. Then, still holding Faris to him, he turned to leave, yet paused. Looking back at the two women, he added, “I do not believe it necessary, yet I will now inform you that you are no longer welcome in my father’s house. No matter the circumstance.”

Faris stood in astonished disbelief at what had only just transpired. Had she understood correctly? Had Lochlan Rockrimmon ordered Lady and Tannis Stringham to quit Loch Loland?

Lochlan swept her into the cradle of his powerful arms, rendering Faris further astonished and even more breathless. As he carried her from the room, Faris looked back to see Lady Stringham standing unbelieving, mouth agape. Tannis burst into tears and began wailing about her loss of prospective husband.

“It is your fault, Mother!” Tannis sobbed. “You had to offend his little pet!”

“I?” Lady Stringham screeched. “You struck first, Tannis! Would that you had kept your envy in order for one more day!”

Lochlan closed the door to the parlor with a swift kick of his foot before continuing to walk down the hallway, cradling Faris in his arms. Uncertain as to what action she should take, Faris simply stared up at him. His brow was deeply creased with an angry frown, his jaw still tightly clinched.

“Sire?” Faris ventured. At the sound of her voice, Lochlan stopped and looked at her, though he did not release her. “Sire—I am well,” she told him. “Certainly well enough to walk.”

Lochlan’s massive chest rose and fell with the heavy breath of anger. Still, after a moment, he nodded. He dropped her feet to the floor, further releasing her when her balance was certain.

“Thank you, sire,” Faris said, gathering the fabric of her open bodice into one closed hand.

“I am sorry you endured such treatment, Faris,” he said. His teeth were still clinched, his anger yet lingering. She was quite certain the emerald fire of his eyes would next set Loch Loland Castle to flames.

He reached forth, taking her chin in one hand and studying the welts on her cheeks. “It wounds me to see your tender flesh so injured,” he said.

“It is nothing so lasting as to give you concern, sire,” Faris said. Her heart was hammering in her bosom. His presence was unraveling her somehow—rendering her weak and adrift in confusion.

“But I do concern myself, Faris,” Lochlan said. His voice was low, alluring suddenly, and Faris was instantly breathless. Again, he tenderly stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, and Faris closed her eyes as he bent, placing a soft, lingering kiss to it.

“Sire, you are not responsible for…for…” Faris stammered. Her words were lost as Lochlan Rockrimmon’s lips pressed her other cheek. Oh, where was her Highwayman? If he would only come to her more often, give her a thread of hope of spiriting her away, of still loving her as time passed—then perhaps she would not find such unsettling distraction in her young master’s presence.

“Sire, please…” Faris breathed.

He meant to kiss her, she knew it! And imp that she was, she wanted him to! How could she be so unfaithful to her beloved? How could she be so easily seduced? And yet Lillias was in her thoughts then. Lillias who so desperately loved Lord Kendrick—Lord Kendrick, who had deceived them both. Yet she loved him! Whether Lord Kendrick or not, Faris loved the Highwayman of Tanglewood! How could she be so unfaithful? How could she allow Lochlan Rockrimmon to affect her so? Her undeniable attraction to Lochlan, the trembling that was washing over her body, the moisture gathering in her mouth as she anticipated being kissed by her young master—she knew all of it was simply her wish the Highwayman were standing before her.

“I favor you, Faris,” Lochlan whispered, his voice deep and resonate. He lightly kissed the corner of her mouth. “Yet I know your heart is owned by another.”

Faris swallowed the excess moisture in her mouth. “It is, sire,” she whispered.

“Still, you tremble at my touch, a crimson blush upon your soft cheek each time we meet,” he said. “And I think you may not deny me a kiss.”

“I…I should deny it,” Faris whispered as Lochlan cupped her face in his hands. How she reveled in the feel of his hands to her face—the rather rough, calloused feel of his palms against her tender flesh.

“But you will not,” he whispered, smiling at her. His eyes held her gaze fast with their bewitching emerald brilliance.

“I-I will,” Faris stammered. She felt as if the very threads of her being might ascend instantly to the heavens as Lochlan Rockrimmon caressed her lips with his thumb a moment before pressing them tenderly with his own.

“Sire,” Faris began, turning her face from him. His kiss had unnerved her, for its quality was as such to send her mind and senses spinning. She thought of her Highwayman, of his passion’s kiss. She winced, furious that her mind and body should be so affected by another man’s attention—angry that Bainbridge Graybeau’s kiss had not affected her so. She wanted to cry out—to call to him—to cry,
My Highwayman! Come! Champion me now when I am in the deepest depths of peril!

She did not cry out. She only remained silent, attempting to muster her courage and resolve to resist succumbing to Lochlan Rockrimmon.

Faris’s mind struggled with her heart, with her mouth, watering for want of his. The Highwayman owned her heart. Indeed she knew he would own her were his circumstances ever to allow it. Still, the imp on her shoulder whispered to Faris in that moment, reminding her she may never belong to the Highwayman the way she dreamed—he may never belong to her. How could he when Lillias stood so beautiful and perfect between them? Further, she knew Lochlan Rockrimmon could never belong to a chambermaid. Still, in the deepest corners of her mind, she gave herself admission—she cared for Lochlan! Cared deeply and lovingly for him—secreted strong desires where he was concerned. Her loyalty to her Highwayman kept her from inwardly facing any further feelings for Lochlan, but in those moments, Faris knew Lochlan Rockrimmon was in her heart as well.

Would one kiss tear the Highwayman from her heart, or her from his? The Highwayman who would not claim her? The Highwayman whom another owned claim to?

“Faris?” Lochlan whispered, placing a hand beneath her chin and tipping her face up to meet his.

“Only one,” Faris heard herself breath. “Only one,” she whispered.

The emerald fire in his eyes caught blaze as he smiled, and she was undone. Closing her eyes as Lochlan Rockrimmon’s head descended toward hers, Faris harshly scolded herself—scolded herself until the instant she felt Lochlan’s lips press against her own. She gasped as he drew her body against his with great strength and determination.

His kiss lingered upon her lower lip—lingered against her upper lip. She was near to crying out for want of his mouth full pressed to hers.

He whispered then, “A shared kiss is required, Faris—if you wish to be free of me.”

Instantly, his mouth captured hers, coaxing her lips to part. Faris melted against him, her resolve to resist in returning his kiss utterly vanquished as passion caught flame and smoldered between them. He was strong—powerful! His kiss was moist, demanding, overpowering in rendering a sense of intoxication to Faris’s full body and mind. Faris despised herself—for she reveled in the bliss evoked by Lochlan Rockrimmon’s kiss as deeply as she ever reveled in the bliss found in the arms of the Highwayman of Tanglewood!

His rough whiskers assaulted the flesh about her mouth. His strong hands caressed her arms, tightened about her waist, wove fingers through her hair.

“Will you not touch me, Faris? Will you not embrace me?” he asked in a whisper. “Will you not let me feel the warmth of your full self in returning our kiss?”

Faris knew she must break from him, but not before she had held him in return. His words were as a warm rain, and she melded to him, letting her arms go around him—her mouth working with his to generate a passionate exchange the like she had shared with just one other.

A deep moan rose from his throat as he pushed her back against the wall. His body pressed hers as he kissed her, his hands fisted and hard-pressed on the wall at either side of her head. His kiss was ambrosial in nature—perfect in its heated application and coaxing response.

Faris pulled away at once, stepping out of his embrace and away from him. What had she done? She had never imagined herself capable of such unfaithfulness.

“No!” he growled, taking her by the shoulders. “You have done nothing, Faris. He loves you, you love him—it is the truth. You are simply uncertain, I suspect. Uncertain he can ever—”

“Hush!” she told him covering her ears. “It is not his fault!”

“But it is! Do you not see it?” he asked, his hands tightening at her shoulders. “He—he should not expect you to wait—wait until his valiant escapades are over! He should not expect you to spend your life waiting.”

“He has never asked me to wait,” she said. “I wait because—because I love him.”

Lochlan was silent for some moments.

“Then I am the villain,” he whispered. “To try and coax you away from him with my weak attempts at chivalry, ridiculous pie conversation, and inept attempt at making love to you. I am sorry, Faris,” he said.

Drawing a deep breath, he turned and walked from her. He left her trembling—left her wanting to run after him—left her wanting to throw herself in his arms and beg him to kiss her once more. It was then she wondered—if Lochlan Rockrimmon were a common man, a man with no title, no wealth—if he were such a one as that, would she run to him? In knowing she might have him, would she claim him? Was it because Lochlan Rockrimmon stood more unobtainable than even the Highwayman of Tanglewood—was this what kept her from him? Was this what kept her loyal to the Highwayman of Tanglewood instead—loyal to a man she had seen but five times?

Faris wept bitterly upon her pillow. She had been unfaithful of heart to her Highwayman. She had reveled in the passionate kiss of Lochlan Rockrimmon. Further, she may have caused the greatest heartache of all to her dearest friend—to Lillias. She thought of Lord Gawain Kendrick—wondered could she yet love him if he were the Highwayman of Tanglewood if he had lied to Lillias—and to her. Yet she loved the man she had met in the midnight meadow a year before. Oh, how she loved him! She loved him more than even she loved Lillias, and the thought sickened her. At the end of all her self-loathing, self-doubt, and confusion of thought, Faris simply cried herself to sleep. She dreamt not of purple twilight meadows or of delicious kisses borne of passion. Instead she dreamt of nothing but an uncertain heart lost and wondering in a dark, heavy fog, void of amethyst sunsets or the silver beacon of a rising moon.

A Greater Understanding

Sunlight streamed through the window of Faris’s small bedchamber, bright and warm and inviting. Yet as Faris busied herself on preparing for the day, she fancied that even the bright light of morning had done nothing to dispel her confusion, self-doubt, and trepidation. She was to meet him—this very night—near the old Castle Alexendria ruins. What would the Highwayman of Tanglewood say to her? What would he do when she confessed to kissing not only Bainbridge Graybeau but Lochlan Rockrimmon as well? Certainly the kiss she had shared with Graybeau was far less in consequence and feeling than the one she had so willing shared with Lochlan. Still, to have kissed two men since last she saw him—it was abominable.

But what of the Highwayman himself? Was he Lord Gawain Kendrick as she suspected? If he were, his dalliances with her and Lillias were far worse than her own with Lochlan, were they not? And still she loved him—for he had renewed her hope, her dreams, when she was certain there was little dreaming left to be had.

She was wrong, she was certain. All through the night, she had awakened at residual intervals to thinking Lord Kendrick could not be the Highwayman of Tanglewood! He could not! She was certain the Highwayman would not so blatantly lie to her. She was certain Lord Kendrick loved Lillias as no man had ever loved a woman—loved her as deeply and truly as Faris loved the Highwayman. Lord Kendrick would not betray Lillias, of this she was certain. She believed also that neither would the Highwayman betray her to such lengths. The Highwayman of Tanglewood could not be Lord Kendrick. This assurance was burned into her heart.

And yet, Lillias’s outburst of the day before remained unexplained. Perhaps it had simply been a lovers’ first quarrel. Perhaps Lillias and her beloved Lord Kendrick had quarreled, and the fact of it had distressed Lillias to tears. Still, why had Lillias asserted she could not to speak of it—particularly to Faris?

Faris’s head throbbed with the confusion of it all—the pain of her own guilt in having shared such a kiss with her young master. Even now, as she prepared to leave her chamber in beginning her duties—even now the thought of kissing Lochlan Rockrimmon caused excess moisture to flood her mouth. She sighed, feeling quite defeated.