Page 20 of Taming the Highland Misfits

Isla took the basket from him and studied the mushrooms, then smelled one of them. It had a musky, earthy aroma and she knew that it would taste delicious when Finley cooked it. In fact, she thought, it would be a lucky woman who married Finley! She had never been allowed to cook anything in her life, although she had often wished she could. Even her mother had not allowed her near the stove, telling her that she might learn to cook a bit when she grew up, but she was too young to handle hot plates and pots at the age of nine.

If only she could have seen into the future, Isla thought sadly, she would have crammed as many experiences as she could into the short time she had had with her mother.

Her attention was jerked back to the present as Finley addressed her.

“May I have my mushrooms back, please?” he asked politely, his eyes twinkling. “Ye were away in another world there!”

“I am so sorry, Finley.” Isla laughed and shook her head, a little embarrassed. “I was daydreaming. Can you teach me how not to poison or kill myself when I pick mushrooms, please?”

Finley chuckled. “Of course, but I must tell ye, Isla, I have nearly killed myself once or twice!”

“That is not exactly reassuring,” she remarked wryly. “You must show me how to prepare the rabbit.

“This can be a bit messy an’ bloody, Isla.” He looked at her doubtfully. “Are ye sure?”

“I will have to learn sometime,” she pointed out. “Why not now?”

He frowned. “Open the door,” he ordered.

“Why?” Isla was puzzled.

“Because I have just put clean straw on the floor, an’ I dinnae want tae have tae put more on when you are sick!” he replied, a little irritably. “Ye can just run out if ye feel ye need tae throw up.”

Isla did as she had been bid and opened the door, letting the cool breeze flow into the kitchen, then, taking a deep breath, she turned back to where Finley was butchering the rabbits. To her surprise, she did not feel at all nauseous, but watched with interest as he plied his knife and sliced the meat into portions for their evening meal.

“I could learn much from watching you,” she remarked. “I have been sheltered all my life from working people, except for the servants, of course, so I have experience in running a household. Yet cooking, cleaning, laundry and suchlike are things I have never done before in my life, but it would certainly do me no harm to learn how to do them. I have no idea where life will take me in the next few years, and I want to be prepared.”

Finley listened to her with pity. Butchering rabbits was an easy skill to learn, but so were all the other activities she had mentioned. Those were not difficult things; what would be extremely hard to learn would be adapting to a whole new way of life. To go from a life of privilege and wealth to one of relative poverty and extremely hard work would be extremely difficult for her, and he did not know if she realised quite how much. How was she going to make her way in the world? What would she live on? He hated to think that she would end up like him—a criminal and someone whose soul had been scarred for life by the things he had done to others. He had despised himself for a very long time and hated to think that Isla would end up feeling the same way about herself.

“I am sure life will be kind tae ye,” Finley told her, although he was far from certain about what he was saying. “Although I worry about what you will dae when ye leave here.”

Isla looked up into his kind, concerned face. He was truly worried for her, but then Finley had always been like that. She could remember half a dozen times when she had seen him comforting local children when they had fallen and hurt their knees, or helped ladies carry buckets of water from the well. He was one of those rare individuals who was truly kind.

“I am sure I will find work to do and somewhere to stay,” she replied brightly, then abruptly changed the subject. “I have not seen Raffy for a few days. She must be missing me. I know I am missing her.”

Finley smiled then washed his hands in a bowl of water before escorting her outside. It was a fine day, and the sky was white with hazy clouds; there was a stiff breeze blowing. Although it was not cold, it was refreshing, and Isla gulped down lungfuls of the clean air, finally feeling free again after her confinement of the last few days.

Raffy was enormously glad to see her mistress. As soon as she laid eyes on Isla, she neighed loudly and began to dance about in her stall, banging her knees and hooves on the door. Isla laughed and opened the stall door, then hugged Raffy. The horse was so excited that she rubbed her nose all over Isla’s hair, once more turning it into a mess of tangles and knots. Isla laughed heartily and fed her the slices of carrots and turnips she had brought as a treat.

When she tried to leave her horse’s stall, Raffy grabbed the back of her dress with her teeth and began to pull her back to stop her from getting out. It was only Finley’s intervention that saved the day, as he pulled Raffy’s jaws open and let Isla slip out.

“Years o’ workin’ wi’ these beasts have taught me a thing or two,” he explained, as he saw Isla look at him in amazement. “When ye have been kicked fittin’ horseshoes as many times as I have ye learn a thing or two!”

“Thank you,” she said faintly. The experience had left her a little shaken, even though she was sure Raffy would never have hurt her. She shook out and smoothed down the skirt of her dress, then looked up to see Finley’s eyes gazing straight into hers.

A tingling sensation ran over her skin, and for the first time in her life, she felt aware of herself as a woman facing a man whom she was suddenly seeing in quite a different light. This was not the kind of feeling she had experienced for the boy she had loved quite purely and innocently. This feeling involved her body too, a body which had changed in the intervening years from that of a child to an adult. However, with all the alterations came some hopelessly complicated emotions that Isla could not even identify, never mind come to grips with.

Finley, too, was wrestling with the same feelings. As a man, he had been aware of his carnal feelings much earlier than Isla had, but he could tell by looking at her that the realisation that these emotions existed had just struck her. She was flushed, her lips were parted, and her eyes had darkened as she gazed at him fixedly.

They stood for a moment as if paralysed before Isla gave a nervous laugh. “Had we not better finish cooking?” she suggested.

“Aye,” Finley replied, glad to turn away. “Have ye ever peeled an’ chopped onions before?”

“No, but I have heard it is not a job for the faint of heart!” Isla replied, glad that they had changed to another topic of conversation.

“You said you wanted new experiences,” he pointed out, his eyes twinkling.

“I suppose I did,” Isla acknowledged, laughing. “I have a feeling I am going to regret this!”