Page 51 of Taken By the Highland Villain
“Nae afore my sister’s wedding. My siblings and I didnae have a clan, and we werenae welcome in the nearby villages because of my faither’s reputation.” Her voice was soft, but there was a note of wistfulness and regret in her words that made his heart ache for her.
“It isnae a large celebration, but this is a cèilidh for me and ye. To celebrate yer bein’ here.” He offered her his hand. “Shall we dance?”
“I… I’ve never learned how…”
There was a trace of hesitation, but Jude took her hand and led her into the cleared section anyway.
“It is all right. I could teach ye, if ye let me. This is a slow song, and we can take it easy.”
He guided them into slow, easy steps, the two of them moving across the floor in an odd, strange pattern that was all their own.
Their hands linked, and Jude drew her closer so that the flare of his kilt touched the fall of her skirt, the two of them swirling together like water. The music danced over them, and Jude let himself flow with the sound, enjoying the closeness and the pleased smile on Valerie’s face, along with the light blush of happiness.
They danced together for some time, until finally Valerie broke the spell with a soft, almost mournful question. “Jude… what is this? Why…?”
“I didnae lie when I said it was to celebrate yer presence here.” Jude considered leaving the matter at that, but he had made a decision, and he was determined to abide by it. “And I want to offer ye a chance to remain.”
Valerie stiffened, and her gaze met his. “What do ye mean?”
“Ye announced a false betrothal, but we dinnae have to discard it. I can still write to Laird MacKane. I can ask him to formally break any agreement with Laird MacOlley, and declare a betrothal and alliance between us.”
“But ye dinnae want to marry. Ye said ye cannae stand to do so.”
“I did. But there are nay rules about how long a betrothal has to last. It can last as long as ye wish, until ye find where ye’d rather be.”
Jude held his breath as he waited for her response.
The soft, sad smile that graced her lips was unexpected. Then, she shook her head. “I cannae.”
“Why?” Jude frowned. “I promise, I’ll nae?—”
“BecauseIcannae stand it.” Valerie shook her head again, more emphatically. “I despise Laird MacOlley, that is true enough, but it would be less painful to endure a man I hate, in a marriage I never wanted, than to remain here and endure kenning that I’m with a man I care for but can never have.”
Jude’s heart skipped a beat, the force of his surprise making him stumble. “Ye…”
“I’ve come to care for ye. And I ken that I can never have ye. That nay matter what ye offer, it will never be yerself and a proper place at yer side.”
The soft, frank admission made Jude’s heart clench, his whole body aching with the impact of her evident sorrow. Despite himself, his resolve faltered.
“Does it mean so much to ye?”
“Aye. I never thought it would, but… I dinnae wish to be claimed by a man who isnae willin’ to truly claim me. As much as I value my freedom, if I must be bound to a man, then I would have it be a true connection or no connection at all.”
Jude slowed their steps, then lifted one hand to stroke her cheek and cup her chin. He tilted her chin up gently, then claimed her lips in a passionate but chaste kiss.
They broke apart when Valerie’s breath stuttered, and he bent close so he could whisper in her ear, “I dinnae ken what I can offer ye, but I can promise ye this—ye have me, for as long as ye wish. As much or as little as ye wish of me.”
“But ye… ye said…”
“As much or as little as ye wish of me,” Jude repeated.
He bent and kissed her again, and this time Valerie surged up to meet him, her passion matching his own, her fingers tangled in the soft fabric of the shirt she’d made for him.
He drew her closer, his arousal beginning to build, desire surging like a warm wave through his blood and filling his muscles with heat and need. Valerie responded, her fingers beginning to tug on the laces of his shirt and the buckle of his belt.
He was just beginning to consider taking her into his arms and carrying her to a more private location when there was a commotion at the door. A moment later, Craig staggered inside, his face taut with barely concealed fear and anger.
“My Laird, I am sorry. But please… Please, I beg ye, help her.”