Page 77
Story: Knights, Knaves, and Kilts
Thomas laughed softly, his eyes glimmered at her.
“Then I shall make certain to avoid angering her,” he said.
Then, he sobered, but the humor, the appreciation, never left his eyes.
“I am quickly coming to see that you are the defender of the weak and less fortunate. That is a noble calling, my lady. And admirable.”
There was that warmth again, something that Maitland had sensed from Thomas since nearly the beginning of their association.
At first, she thought it was simply flirting, but now…
now it was something different, something deeper.
Something confusing but thrilling. It would be so easy to give in to his warmth, but Desmond’s words kept ringing around in her head– I cannot count all of the women he has taken to his bed.
Maitland had always thought she was too strong, too noble to fall victim to someone like that but in Thomas’ case, she realized that she wasn’t so strong when it came to him.
That made him a little frightening.
Unsure what to say to him that wouldn’t begin that fluid repartee that started so easily between them, she simply nodded her head gratefully and turned for the stairwell.
But Thomas shot out a big arm and blocked her path, his hand on the wall as his arm prevented her from moving forward.
When she looked up at him, curiously, he smiled faintly.
“Will you answer a question for me?” he asked softly.
It was a tone that sent chills down her spine. “If I can.”
Even though his arm was still up, somehow, he was moving closer to her. “I told you that if I had met you before that harpy came into my life, I would have pursued you,” he said, his voice low and purring. “You said that you would have let me catch you. Is that really true?”
Maitland quickly averted her eyes, fearful of what would happen if she looked at him. “I said it,” she said. “I meant it. May I pass now? There is much to do and Tibby cannot do it alone.”
He dropped his arm but when she took a step to move past him, he grasped her left hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing it gently.
It was enough to cause a gasp to come from Maitland’s lips, feeling a chill run down her arm as her heart began to race.
Breathing became a chore as she struggled to stay on an even keel.
“Please… do not do that,” she whispered.
“Why not?”
“Because you said you came to Edenside with me as a friend and patron,” she said. “A friend would not have taken the liberty you just took.”
He didn’t let go of her hand, although he knew she had a point. But he simply couldn’t help himself. “I lied,” he murmured, his mouth against her flesh. “God help me, I lied. Mae, I cannot help my attraction to you. I cannot help any of it.”
Maitland was growing increasingly frightened, mostly because she knew if he sincerely pressed his attention, she wouldn’t be able to fight him off. She wouldn’t want to fight him off.
“Stop, Thomas,” she begged softly. “ Please .”
“Must I go through the rest of my life wondering what could have been between us?”
With her last shred of strength, she yanked her hand from his grasp, turning to him as she backed away.
“It is infatuation and nothing more,” she said.
“You are in a miserable existence with Lady Adelaide and I am a fresh, new face. That is all it is. Would you truly treat me with such disrespect? Am I worth nothing more than a passing fancy? Please do not tempt me anymore, Thomas. I beg you. It is not fair to me.”
With that, she fled down the stairs, leaving Thomas standing in the doorway, feeling ashamed and disappointed, more than he’d felt in a very long time. God, was she right? Was it really only infatuation and nothing more? He didn’t think so. He’d been infatuated before and it never felt like this.
Never like this.
Maitland wasn’t simply another pretty face; she was smart and creative and compassionate.
She was everything a woman should be but, in that instant, he realized that she was right– he had been treating her with disrespect.
If she’d let him, he would have bedded her, right now on the cold and dirty floor. God help him, he would have.
But it would not have been a mere conquest.
It would have been something more, something… emotional .
A sampling of what could have been.
Feeling contrite and weak, Thomas realized he couldn’t do that to her. If he had a shred of respect for her, he couldn’t treat her as he’d treated nearly every other woman who had ever caught his eye. She’d been absolutely right.
She deserved his respect.
Feeling disheartened as he hadn’t felt in his entire life, Thomas followed Maitland’s path down the stairs.
It was nearing sunset now, with streaks of orange and pink across the sky as the clouds moved through the coming dusk.
The smell of the meat was very heavy in the air as he made his way over to the spit where the soldiers were starting to cut off succulent strips of pork and eating it.
Maitland was there, as was Tibelda, and the women had been given small wooden cups to put their pork and beans in.
But Thomas stayed away from the fire. He couldn’t face Maitland at the moment so it was best he simply avoid her.
He was greatly confused by his words to her, and her subsequent reaction.
As he headed over to his horse, kept away from the other animals, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, seeing Maitland with her cup of beans and meat heading towards the outbuilding where Artus and Queenie had disappeared.
As she moved away, he watched curiously.
He watched her with longing.
He simply couldn’t help it.
For her part, Maitland knew Thomas was looking at her.
She could feel his eyes upon her like a gentle touch, inviting and warm, like something she couldn’t shake.
But she didn’t look at him in return because she was still trying to overcome their encounter in the tower.
Part of her was wishing she hadn’t walked away, so she kept her focus away from him.
She couldn’t let that weaker part dictate her morals or actions.
Therefore, she kept her focus on something other than Thomas’ heated kiss– she focused on the children, hoping to lure them out of their hiding places, so she made her way to the doorway she had seen Artus and Queenie enter, standing just outside as she called out to the occupants.
“Artus?” she said. “I have a nice, hot meal for you and the others. I know you can smell the meat and you must surely be hungry. Please come out. This lovely food is for you.”
There wasn’t an immediate answer, but she could hear hissing back in the darkness of the outbuilding. In fact, there was a good deal of conversation and she thought she heard a child crying. Seizing the opportunity, she took a big bite of the pork.
“The food is delicious, Artus,” she said, mouth full. “Won’t you have some? There is so much of it and we cannot possibly eat all of it. Please come out and bring the children. Surely they would like to fill their bellies with this wonderful food.”
There was more hissing and it was growing louder. Maitland leaned forward, trying to hear what they were saying, but she couldn’t quite make out the words. She could, however, hear Artus as he whispered loudly in a somewhat pleading tone. But still, no children were forthcoming.
Thinking her plan to lure them out of their hiding places was not working, Maitland turned her back on the outbuilding, finishing off the piece of pork in her cup because, much like those children, she was quite hungry.
She thought to, perhaps, return to the fire and consult Thomas and Desmond on what they should do to bring the children forth, but just as she began to walk away, she could hear something behind her.
Turning around, she saw a little girl with beautiful long, curly blonde hair standing just outside the door.
She couldn’t have been more than five years of age, a tiny little creature no bigger than a sparrow.
Before Maitland could open her mouth and speak, the little girl rushed towards her, wiping at her teary eyes and smearing dirt across her pale cheeks.
“I’m hungry,” she said. “I want a’bit.”
Her Scottish accent was heavy, coupled by the fact that she was simply very little and not particularly articulate. Maitland immediately held out a hand to her.
“Then if you are hungry, you must come with me,” she said. “I will make sure your belly is full. Will you come?”
The little girl nodded firmly, still wiping at her watery eyes, and reached out to take Maitland’s hand. When Maitland clutched the little fingers, they were like ice. She was so little and so very cold.
“What is your name, lass?” Maitland asked.
The little girl simply looked up at her as if she didn’t understand the question. Maitland was very gentle with her as she bent over to ask her again, but the words didn’t come forth before she heard a voice by the outbuilding door.
“’Tis Pride, she is.”
Maitland looked up to see Queenie standing there with a group of children around her. She didn’t look so drunk any longer. In fact, she sounded rather sober. But Maitland wasn’t really looking at her. She was looking at the children, shocked by what she saw.
It was worse than she thought.
She’d never seen such destitute children in her life, all of them in rags, all of them skinny and malnourished. They were all bunched up around Queenie and Artus, and the younger ones were weeping. Queenie pointed to the little girl in Maitland’s grip.
“Her name is Dyana, but I call her Pride,” she said. Then, she began to point to the children around her. “This is Lust, Gluttony, Sloth, Wrath, Greed, and Envy. Ye have Pride with ye. ’Tis the only way I can remember their names.”
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