Page 49 of Laird of Twilight

She tapped a finger on his chest. “Never bargain where it concerns fairies.”

“Does it concern fairies?” he asked quickly. Had she sorted that out somehow?

“‘Tis the road to fair Elfland, where you and I this night maun go,’” she quoted.

“It seems a fair bargain to me, and could solve our immediate dilemma.”

“Only in part. Well, perhaps. I am thinking.” She looped her arms around his neck. He could not resist her, felt a spinning within, so that he kissed her, pulled her close. He felt like a man drowning, and she his only hope.

“Any more of this, my girl, and we had best marry quick.”

“If we both agreed, but I sense that you do not—”

The door to the study pushed open then, and Osgar entered, Nellie and Taran trotting behind. James scratched the tall hound’s head as he butted between the humans. “Enter the fairy hound, just when his fey mistress needs him.”

“I must go home,” Elspeth said. “We will not be alone here for long.”

“I will go out and look at the road.”

“Wait.” She stood with her back to the window, silhouetted in the light. “Someone is coming. A girl on foot. A coach not far behind. Aye, and my grandfather is in his gig as well. Very far off. He will be home tonight.”

Puzzled, James walked past her to look through the window at the view spanning to the east. He saw only drizzle and mist on the hills.

Then, in the distance, he glimpsed a woman walking along the crest of a hill. Within moments, a coach appeared around the curved base of the hill, making its way along the muddy track. It stopped, and the female stepped. The vehicle moved onward.

“Your ghillie is coming back,” Elspeth said, joining him by the window. “He just saw the maid walking alone, and so is bringing her to the house.”

James frowned. “Even if you had the eyes of a hawk, you could not have seen that. Your back was turned until now.”

“When will you believe me, Struan?” she asked quietly. “I know things. I am not what you think I am, nor am I who you think.”

He did not understand what she meant, entirely, but he felt an undeniable desire to know more about her, to be with her. Hope, however rusty, awoke in him. Still, he would not fall for fairy nonsense. Every blessed thing had an explanation.

“I suppose we should get you home,” he said. He went with her to the door. As they crossed the corridor, an overwhelming feeling welled up in him, a yearning both physical and inner, and with it an emotion he dared not name. “Elspeth—”

She spun, reaching out even as he did. Suddenly she was in his arms again and he was kissing her deeply, thoroughly, with hunger and longing. Forcing himself to pull away, he brushed her hair from her brow. “There is something between us. We must both admit that.”

“I know,” she murmured.

“Let us just agree on an engagement, and see where it leads us. I will speak to your grandfather.”

She shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Fickle,” he said wryly, affectionately. “I hoped that kiss meant you had changed your mind.”

“It is just the fairy blood,” she said lightly. “Fickle, as you say. They say it runs in the family, that fickleness, from our ancestry.”

“If only it were true. You have no idea how much I want to believe it.”

“Yet you are still not convinced?” She smiled, turned, and walked ahead of him.

Chapter 12

Soon enough and too soon, Elspeth sat in a gig beside Struan as they went carefully along the muddy road. He drew on the reins as the coach slowed as it approached. James leaned out to speak to the driver, who stopped as well.

“Good afternoon, Angus MacKimmie!” he called. “And Mrs. MacKimmie! How nice to see you so soon.”

The housekeeper, seated in the coach with a maidservant, leaned forward. “My lord, aye, we’re back. Our daughter has enough help, and with your guests arriving next week, we thought we would be needed here more. This is Annie MacLeod, who is one of our maidservants at Struan. Good day, Miss MacArthur,” she added, nodding, looking a bit startled to see her.