Page 17 of Taken by the Heartless Highlander (Falling for Highland Villains #2)

CHAPTER 17

“What’s all this?” Noah asked as he entered the dining hall.

He had been expecting to eat alone, but instead, Keira and her siblings were seated at the table, looking up at him expectantly.

“We were told to prepare a meal for yer guests, Me laird,” a servant stated, looking worried. “Were ye not expectin’ it?”

Noah closed his eyes. This could only be Callum’s doing. No one else would think to make Keira and the children feel welcome in this way.

He nodded briskly as he walked to the table and sat to the left of Daisy, who looked a little startled by his proximity.

“Very good,” he said gruffly to the servants who dutifully approached and began serving the simple stew that Noah favored.

Noah’s eyes flicked to Keira, who had a charcoal gray shawl draped over her shoulders, the color making her skin glow, her dark eyes like a stormy sky.

She had tied her hair up with a simple hairpin, which glinted in the candlelight. She looked better each time he laid eyes on her, which was not helping his resolve to stay away from the lass. Even the presence of the male servants waiting to serve her aggravated him.

Nay man should lay eyes on her save for me.

A fresh wave of worry washed over him as his possessive urges took hold, and he tried to smother the feeling, disconcerted by the strength of it.

As he contemplated her face, she looked up at him, and their gazes collided. Noah felt such an intense bolt of desire shoot through him that he almost grunted aloud.

“Scott is learnin’ to be a warrior,” Daisy piped up suddenly, dispelling the tension immediately.

Noah looked at her in astonishment. He had been sure the girl was a mute until now.

“Aye,” Noah said, giving Daisy his friendliest smile, “he is already quite a fighter.”

Scott preened at the praise, and Noah wondered how many times the lad had been complimented in his life. He remembered what it was like to be fifteen. It was a time when everything he did was somehow incorrect, and his father would often scold him for being too weak.

“Are ye the one that taught him his right hook, lass?” Noah asked Daisy by way of a distraction and felt a flutter of happiness as the girl gave a tinkling laugh. It was not so much her reaction that pleased him, more the light that suddenly danced in her older sister’s eyes as he paid her some attention.

“Nay,” Daisy said, still giggling, “I am better at bakin’ than I am at fightin’.”

“Och aye?” Noah asked her. “Ye wouldnae be responsible for the excellent bannocks I ate in yer cottage, would ye?”

Daisy grinned. “Nay, not them. Keira is the one who makes the honey bannocks, and she is much better than I am at those.”

“That’s not true, flower,” Keira said affectionately, “ye are the best baker in the village. Me bannocks are just Maither’s recipe.”

“Ye made them?” Noah asked Keira in surprise.

She gave him a coy smile. “I daenae just weave spells and stir potions, me laird, I have other talents.”

Noah took a spoonful of his stew hurriedly, his mind racing with thoughts of the type of talents she might possess. The memory of her fingers clutching him as he drove his hips against her sprang to the front of his mind, and he almost choked on his food.

“And what is yer bakin’ specialty, Miss Daisy?” he asked, recovering himself and attempting to quell the desire rising in his chest.

“It is not quite bakin’ exactly; I make a good clootie puddin’,” she replied as her brother groaned around his spoon.

“That she does,” Scott added, “Daisy’s clootie puddin’ is the best in three clans, I’ll wager.”

Daisy’s little face was a picture of happy contentment, and Noah noticed he, too, felt utterly relaxed and calm in their presence.

He had not had company for supper often in recent weeks, but he would not object to them joining him for dinner every night. They were such cheerful children, and their fiery hair and bright smiles quite blew away his melancholy.

At least, it did until Keira rose abruptly and gave a small bow in his direction, her teeth worrying at her lip as she curled a lock of her dark hair behind her ear.

“I have had a long day, and I am tired. I think I shall get to bed early tonight.”

She had not taken even a mouthful of her food. Noah stood automatically as she walked to the door, leaving the room quickly without even a glance back at him.

“I dinnae think she likes the stew,” Daisy said, taking a thick slice of bread to the dark brown gravy and dipping it in with obvious relish. “Do ye think I can have her bowl?” she asked hopefully.

Where has she gone so fast and so suddenly? Noah thought. And why do I have a desire to follow her and demand that she come back?

Keira left the dining hall as quietly as she could, feeling a strange guilt that she could not shake.

I should be happy that he has welcomed me family, she scolded herself; I shouldnae be yearnin’ for more time with him to see our Daisy come out of her shell.

Keira had never seen Daisy speak so boldly before and certainly never to anyone she viewed as above her station. Initially she had worried that MacAllen might talk down to Daisy or grow bored with her small talk, but he had been all polite interest—even teasing her a little.

Keira had wanted to stay to continue the discussion, enjoying watching him allow her siblings into his life—and that was when she decided to leave. They should not grow used to him; none of them should.

“Oh, Miss Keira, ye are finished already?”

She looked up in surprise as the same maid who had delivered Lucas’s note to her appeared at the head of the corridor. She had a jug of steaming water in her hand.

“Yes, I wasnae especially hungry. Be about yer business, all is well.”

The maid approached, smiling warmly at her. “I was just fetchin’ the last of yer bath water, miss. Would ye like to take it now?”

Keira could not think of anything she would like more, and she smiled gratefully.

“I would, thank ye… er, I dinnae ken yer name,” she said as the girl joined her to walk to her room.

“Fenella, Miss Keira,” she said with a broad smile, and Keira returned it. The girl could not be much older than Daisy and Scott.

As they entered her bedroom, Keira was delighted at the sight of the hot bath that awaited her, the water gently steaming. She could smell lavender pervading the air and watched as Fenella poured the final jug into it, almost filling the bath to the brim.

She was a lovely-looking girl with a friendly round face and dark brown eyes. Her hair was dark brown to match, and she had freckles across her nose, just like Keira.

“Shall I help ye?” Fenella asked, looking up at her enquiringly.

Keira nodded. “Thank ye,” she said, feeling strange to be treated like a lady by the servants.

She was grateful to dispense with the itchy shawl she had brought from the cottage and the borrowed dress she still wore.

“I must return this,” she said, removing the gown as Fenella folded it carefully for her. “Although I dinnae have anythin' to wear besides that,” she added.

“Oh, I can lend ye a dress if ye need one, miss,” Fenella said. She had a dimple in her left cheek that made an appearance every time she smiled and a crooked front tooth that gave her an endearing look.

“Och, I wouldnae wish to put ye out,” Keira said hurriedly as she stepped into the heat of the bath, sighing as she sank beneath the scented water.

“Not at all, miss; I shall collect it and leave it for ye.”

The girl dutifully fetched a cloth and helped Keira wash her back, making sure her hair remained pinned above her neck and did not dangle in the water.

Taking advantage of the plentiful hot water, Keira scrubbed her fingers, trying to remove the green staining that MacAllen had commented upon.

She should, by rights, not be embarrassed about the state of her nails, but she didn’t like the fact that he had mentioned it. Perhaps he did not think she was clean.

The memory of his lips meeting hers and his tongue driving into her mouth came to mind. Nay, clearly he thinks I’m clean enough for him, she thought with a strange swell of pride in her chest.

She was lost in her memories again; his strong hands encircling her waist, the heat in his eyes as he had devoured her, crushing her in his arms in the most exquisite embrace.

She felt arousal wash through her and hurriedly shook herself, mortified to have let her thoughts wander with Fenella right beside her.

“Tell me,” Keira said impulsively, “what sort of a man is Laird MacAllen?”

She wondered if the girl would be shy about speaking of her master, but Fenella seemed more than happy to gossip. Perhaps it was the way of servants in a place such as this. She had a bubbly, sing-song voice that Keira found soothing.

“He is a good laird, ma’am, very attentive and caring of his people. Me maither has lived here all her life, and she has always had a MacAllen for a laird. They are an honorable family.”

Keira waited for a while before asking another question, not wishing to sound too eager.

“What is he like as a man? Did he really sell his sister to a rival laird to secure peace?”

“Och, yes, Lady Amelia? She is the bonniest woman I have ever seen. So kind and gentle. She hasnae been to this castle very often, but she loves her brother. Laird Dougal was a good match. They’re havin’ a wee bairn now.”

As though that proved anything, Keira thought with aggravation, Lucas would get me with child just to ensure I could not leave him.

“So she did marry Laird Dougal?”

“Och yes. Laird MacAllen wouldnae have done it if he dinnae have any choice, and they are quite settled now. A love match, some say. Laird MacAllen will always do right by his people, though me brother says he has a nasty temper. Sometimes quick to anger if his wishes arenae met.”

This is me castle, ye are me guest, ye do as I say until I tell ye otherwise, Keira felt a throb of heat run through her at MacAllen’s remembered words on her first night in the castle. What would he do if I truly disobeyed him? She wondered. The thought was nothing if not exciting.

She leaned forward against her knees, picking at the underside of her nails as Fenella ran the cloth over her neck and arms. The warm water soothed her feelings, if not her racing thoughts.

“I’ve heard things that the council are nae happy with him though,” Fenella continued conversationally, as though she were speaking of the weather.

“Really? Why is that?”

“Och, he hasnae taken a bride!” her voice dropped to a lower level as though she were suddenly speaking out of turn. “They wish for him to marry and secure the lairdship, but he doesnae seem to have any wish to take a wife.”

Or to take a mistress.

Keira said nothing in response, and after a while, when Fenella rang the cloth out into the bowl beside her Keira turned to her with a smile.

“Thank ye Fenella, ye have been most kind. I’ll carry on from here, ye should be about yer duties.”

Fenella nodded as she handed her the cloth, collecting her things and leaving Keira alone with her thoughts.

She ran it over her body, her skin sensitive and raw somehow, as though his kiss had set something in her body alight that she could not extinguish.

She thought of what she would do if he were to burst into the room right now, demanding that she treat his shoulder again, be damned to her privacy.

Would he pull her forcefully from the bath? Maybe throw her on the bed, his dry clothing rubbing against her naked body as he claimed her for his own? She moaned at the thought.

She opened her eyes, glancing about guiltily as though somehow he might hear her thoughts and know of her fantasies.

Why does he not wish to marry? She wondered. Perhaps he is already in love with someone and is pining for them.

She looked at her little finger, happy to see it was quite pink again, no trace of green anywhere.

Perhaps he was in love with the previous healer. He had called her by her given name. Deindre had left to tend to his grandparents in the other castle. Perhaps he was yearning for her, and that was why he would never marry.

I dinnae even ken his name, she realized suddenly, I have kissed a man and I havenae any idea who he really is.

She got out of the bath, feeling annoyed at her own thoughts as she pulled on the robe that Fenella had left for her. She tied it too tightly, wincing as it pinched her skin.

What kind of a healer is this ‘Deindre’ anyway? She couldnae discover what was wrong with his chest. Well, I shall, I shall prove what real healers can do!