Page 19 of Savage Kilted Highlander (Temptation in Tartan #9)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

I t was not the first time Constance had seen Bane without his shirt on, but this time was different. This time, they were very close, so close she could feel the warmth coming off him and see the fine, smooth texture of his surprisingly pale skin. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in his exposed broad, muscular chest, and his powerful shoulders and arms. Her cheeks began to flush, and unsettling tendrils of heat unfurled deep in her belly. She had trouble dragging her eyes away from the fine line of dark hair that led from his navel, down his flat, muscle-ridged belly, and disappeared mysteriously into the waistband of his trews.

She took a few shallow breaths and tried hard to compose herself, reluctant to let him see how flustered she truly was by bending down and focusing her attention on his wound.

She soon learned that her attempt to hide her reaction from him was pointless. Clearly enjoying her embarrassment, he smirked down at her.

“Go on, ye can look as much as ye want. Ye can even touch if ye dare,” he teased, making her cheeks grow even hotter. Flustered but determined, Constance ignored his goading and focused on the task at hand. She avoided touching his naked skin while she dabbed at the swollen, blood-caked edges of the cut with the wet cloth as carefully as she could. So intent was she, that his sudden sharp intake of breath startled her.

She was immediately apologetic and looked up at him worriedly, saying, “I am so sorry, I did not mean to hurt you. I shall try to be more careful.”

“’Tis nae that,” he told her, shaking his head. “Ye’re bein’ too delicate. Ye need tae be rougher if ye mean tae clean it properly.”

“Oh, I see.” She returned to the task, this time doing as he said and putting more pressure on as she worked, dabbing and rinsing the wet cloth. Though she tried to focus on what she was doing, all the time she knelt at his side intensely aware of him next to her, her body tingling at his proximity. She sensed a peculiar tension in the air between them, and as her hands became more practiced, his words echoed in her mind.

Unexpectedly, she found her curiosity began to outweigh her shyness. She allowed her fingers to brush against his skin as she cleaned the wound, finding herself fascinated by the contrast between his rough exterior and the silky-smooth warmth beneath.

“I suppose this is this the first time ye’ve touched a man,” he remarked, his gaze boring into her, making her heart flutter.

“Of course, it is. It is the first time I have been this close to a man in general,” she admitted.

“Yer sheltered upbringing again.”

“Indeed.”

She worked in silence until, at last, she was satisfied the wound was clean enough to dress. “Thankfully, though it is quite long, it is shallow as well,” she explained. “I will do my best to bandage it properly to keep the dirt out.” She ripped off another length of the petticoat and pressed a pad of the remaining clean cloths to the wound before standing up to secure it with the longer strip.

As she reached around him to tie it, their eyes met, their faces only inches apart. A force in the air seemed to ripple between them, and Constance felt an almost overpowering urge to touch him, to have him touch her, to press her lips to his, just to know what it would be like. As though he could read her mind, Bane leaned forward slightly, and for a fleeting moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. She wanted him to kiss her.

But a sudden loud crack from within the trees broke the spell between them. She pulled away, her cheeks hot with embarrassment once more, confused by the powerful urge that had gripped her. Bane cleared his throat awkwardly, suddenly seeming to find it necessary to scan the forest surrounding them with great interest. “It may seem safe here, but we need tae stay alert fer any dangers,” he said in a peculiarly tight voice.

“Hmm,” she replied, tying off the bandage as neatly as she could. She was grateful to be able to step away from him and avoided looking at him while she disposed of the bloody water and rags, sensing that both of them would rather pretend the moment of intense closeness had not happened. But she made herself face him as she said, “I am by no means an expert, as you know, but I hope I have done a good enough job of cleaning it and that the bandage will hold until you can see a healer.” She felt a tinge of pride at having coped so well, never having seen anything more than a scratched knee before.

Bane touched the bandage lightly. “Aye, ye’ve done well, considerin’ ye’ve had nay practice with such things.” He looked up at her, his hazel eyes flashing in the gloom. “It was brave of ye. Thank ye.”

“Brave? Me? I do not think so.” She laughed lightly to disguise the pleasure she felt at his praise.

“Aye, ye have the courage tae face things that are new tae ye. That’s brave,” he told her. Embarrassed by his words of approval, Constance said nothing, and another awkward silence descended upon them as she helped him to redress, feeling unexpectedly sad as his body disappeared beneath his clothing.

Then, looking for distraction, she knelt by the fire and washed out the pan with water from the waterskin before refilling it and placing it back into the fire to boil. If ever she had needed a cup of tea, she felt that was the moment. As they waited for the water to heat up, she resumed her seat opposite Bane. She was shocked at herself for wanting him to kiss her and wrapped her arms around her knees in an unwitting gesture of protection. She was hardly aware that it was more to guard against her own urge to explore the way he made her feel than any threat he presented. Searching desperately for a way to banish the awkwardness, she found herself talking nervously.

“You know, when I first found out about my mother’s infidelity with Laird Kerr, I was very shocked. It completely shattered the vison I had of her in my mind as the perfect, dutiful, devoted wife.”

“Aye, I can imagine.”

“Yes, because I could not make sense of her actions. They were so scandalous, and they seemed so unlike the memories I have of her.” Without even noticing she was doing it, her fingers sought he gold locket and held it firmly. “She was always so gentle, so loving, it was almost impossible for me to imagine her being unfaithful to her husband and even giving birth to her lover’s children.”

“She must have had good reason tae risk sacrificin’ her reputation, since ’tis so important fer a woman of her class tae keep it intact,” Bane remarked.

“Exactly,” she replied, warming to her subject. “Then, when I thought about what it must have been like for her to be married for so long to Lord Ashbourne, I found I could no longer blame her for what she did. It is for some measure of his unpleasantness that even his true children, my siblings Henry and Amelia, also quickly forgave her. We concluded that she must have fallen very much in love with my father and grasped at well-deserved happiness where she could.”

“Aye, I dinnae ken much about such things but it seems likely. Folks say love makes ye dae strange things.”

They exchanged a rapid glance. “Yes, it must do. What else can have made her forget her wedding vows so completely? That is why I think that, despite what you have told me about him, my father cannot be an altogether wicked man. After all, he did everything he could to protect her from scandal and her husband’s fury by separating Agnes and I at birth.” She pursed her lips and frowned. “Although Lord Ashbourne obviously found out the truth at some point afterwards. I do not know how though. I try not to think about how she may have suffered at his hands for it makes me angry, but knowing him, I am sure he found a way to punish her.”

“Aye, he sounds like the type tae enjoy makin’ someone’s life a misery,” Bane replied softly.

“Oh, yes. He would enjoy that certainly. But all within the bounds of keeping the scandal hidden.”

“’’Tis a shame we cannae read a man’s mind, eh? In me own experience, I’ve found life is rarely as simple as it seems and understandin’ folks’ actions even less so.”

“That is true, as I now know.” She smiled at him, finding his words of reassurance comforting. An unusual warmth blossomed inside her as she realized that by talking like this, they were building a bridge that spanned their vastly different experiences. By finding common ground, they were drawing closer together, and she found she liked it far more than she knew she ought to.

Later that night, while Bane leaned back against the tree stump and sharpened his blades by the fire, he heard Constance humming a lilting melody. At first, he was struck by the sweetness of her voice, and then he realized he recognized the tune.

“I ken that tune very well. I remember hearin’ at as a bairn,” he broke in. She stopped humming at once, her blushing cheeks making her embarrassment at being caught in such an unguarded moment obvious.

“It is a tune my mother used to sing to me,” she said finally, adding with an air of sadness, “I do not know where it is from though.”

“I dae. ’Tis an old Scottish air.”

She looked at him keenly. “Is it? That is quite surprising. Perhaps Mama learned it from my father. Do you think you remember it from when your mother sang it to you as a child?”

He shrugged, casting his mind back but finding no answer to her question. “It would be nice tae think so, but in truth, I can remember hardly anythin’ of me parents, let alone what lullabies me maither sang tae me in the cradle.”

“That is a great shame. I know my younger sister Amelia regrets not remembering our mother,” she replied sympathetically.

“I sometimes wish I could, but I had Tav tae look after me.”

Constance gave him an encouraging smile and said, “I should like to hear more of this famous brother of yours.”

Bane could not help smiling back as he thought of Tav and all he had done for him. “I was but five years old when our parents died, and Tav was ten. We were kicked out ontae the street tae fend for ourselves, just two lads with naught but the clothes on their backs and me faither’s knife. We lived on the streets, beggin’ and stealin’ tae survive. Somehow, even though he was so young, Tav was clever. He used his wits tae keep me safe. He taught me how tae survive against the odds. He always made sure I had something warm in me belly and somewhere safe tae sleep at nights, whatever it took.”

“He sounds like a fascinating man,” Constance put in, seemingly rapt by his tale.

“Aye he has all the brains in the family, he’s a man of many talents. Of course, with the life we were livin’, there was often a good reason tae keep movin’. Eventually, when Tav was about twelve or thirteen we had a stroke of luck that changed our lives forever.”

“Oh? What happened?” Constance asked curiously, paying close attention.

“We came tae a village in the lands of Laird Stewart, up in the Highlands. Tav got caught stealin’ food from the house where the blacksmith’s family lived. I was scared, I thought he was gonnae be beaten and I’d be left all alone. But the blacksmith turned out tae be a kind man. He and his wife could have nae children so there was nay son tae leave the forge tae. He gave Tav a job, and over the years, he taught him all he kent about smithin’. And where Tav was, so was I, so pretty soon I was followin’ in his footsteps. When the old couple died, they left us the forge.”

“What generous people they must have been,” Constance observed. “But wise as well.” He saw her eyes flicker over his well-toned muscles on his shoulders and arms before she added, “I can see that you must have worked very hard.”

“When ye grow up fightin’ fer all ye have, ye learn the value of workin’ hard. Anyway, ye can understand why Tav is everythin’ tae me, and this year without him has been very hard.” Tae tell the truth, I’ve been lost.”

“But why did you not try to find him sooner?”

“Because of our sister. She still needed me. I couldnae leave her.”

“Oh! You have a sister?” she asked, her face a picture of surprise.

“Aye, Fia. She’s nae our sister by blood, mind ye. Tav found her wanderin’ the streets half-starved when she was about fourteen. He felt sorry for her and brought her home tae live with us. We’ve been together ever since. Well, up until Tav went missin’ and Fia got married.”

“She got married?”

“Aye, tae our own laird, Knox Stewart himself nay less.” Bane could not help the flash of pride her felt at his sister’s great accomplishment.” He looked at her. “That is a great love story as well, like yer maither and Laird Kerr perhaps.”

“How wonderful!” Constance exclaimed, seemingly delighted. “I should like to meet your sister.”

Bane did not say it, but he thought it highly unlikely since they would be parting forever in a few days’ time. “Aye, she and Knox got married about a month ago. After that, I was free tae pack up and come and find him at last.”

“So, what will you do when Tav is finally free?”

“Return tae our forge and build the business up again, I suppose. It was too much fer me tae run alone. But it depends a lot on him.”

He was deeply touched by her kindness when she said with the utmost sincerity, “I really admire you for being so single-minded, Bane, and loving your brother enough to go to such lengths to free him. Although, of course, I cannot wholeheartedly approve of your methods.” The twinkle in her eyes told him she was joking. “As you know, I have never met my father, but I assure you, if I have any power over his decision, I shall do my very best to make sure you and Tav are reunited. You deserve to be back together after all you have been through. And I am sure Fia feels the same.”

Bane felt an unusual rush of heat to his face. He was unused to the tenderness she was offering him. “Thank ye, Constance. I appreciate yer kind words.”

“I know what a special bond there can be between siblings. Even though Henry and Amelia are technically my half-siblings, I do not love them or miss them any the less. My only regret at leaving Ashbourne Manor was having to say goodbye to them and not knowing when we will meet again. Sadly, I cannot see it happening while their father is alive. He would never allow us that happiness.”

Bane listened attentively while she talked some more about her upbringing, and it sounded to Bane as if she was better off out of Ashbourne’s hands. Whatever sort of man Kerr really was, Bane thought he could hardly be worse than the cruel, manipulative Englishman with his fine manners and court connections. It made his heart break to think what she had suffered at his hands.

“I admire yer strength fer leavin’ that place,” he told her. “It must have been very difficult, leavin’ all those comforts behind when ye knew so little of the outside world.”

“I cannot say that I was not afraid. But though it sounds strange to say it, once I was far enough away from him, I felt happier. Even though my future with my father was by no means assured. But I kept the thought of seeing Agnes in my heart to drive me on.”

“So, ye see, I am right. Ye have a brave spirit, Constance, and ye should be proud of yersel’.”

“Proud of having let myself be kidnapped? Oh yes, I suppose I should,” she said, laughing, a sweet melodic sound that sent a shiver down his spine.

They talked a little more, for which Bane was grateful because it made him forget the pain for a little while. As darkness fell in earnest, they laid down to sleep. As he lay beneath his blanket, conscious of Constance’s nearness, he felt his defences dropping. They had learned more about each other, and it worried him. There was no denying that a connection had formed between them. He felt it intensely but with sorrow, knowing it could come to nothing and that they would soon have to part.