Page 17 of The Laird’s Wicked Game (Highland Scandal #2)

RAE AWOKE TO a wet tongue lapping his cheek and hot dog breath.

Eyes snapping open, he found Storm in his face. His collie had somehow managed to open the door between the solar and his bedchamber.

He cursed, just as the collie licked him again—and this time got a mouthful of dog tongue. Spluttering, he lurched up out of bed. “Out, Storm!”

The shaggy dog withdrew, tail wagging.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Rae rose from the bed and crossed naked to the nightstand, splashing his cheeks with water. He then cast Storm a dark look. The collie sat a few feet away, watching him expectantly. “Ye are a right troublemaker, lad,” he muttered. “But ye got yer wish … I’m up now.”

It was hard to stay grumpy at his collie though—not after the night he’d just had .

Bedding Kylie had surpassed all his expectations. Lying with her was the closest he’d ever felt to true freedom. She’d been lustier and more adventurous than he’d anticipated, rousing a passion within him that had left him reeling. She’d slipped from his bed in the early hours and returned to her own, leaving him to sleep. And he had. Like the dead—until his rude awakening.

He went through his morning ablutions swiftly, concluding his bathing and brushing his teeth with a hazel stick dipped in salt. He then threw on a fresh lèine and braies and buckled his dirk around his hips before making his way through into the solar.

He’d risen later than usual, and his sons and their tutor were already seated at the table, awaiting him. A large tray of fresh bannock, cut into wedges, sat between them, and the wee lads were eyeing it hungrily. However, they were loath to dig in before their father arrived.

“Morning, Da!” They sang out, and Rae favored them with a smile. How differently he behaved toward them these days. Until recently, he’d greeted them both with a scowl each day.

“Morning, lads.” He then shifted his gaze to Kylie, who was watching him with a veiled gaze. “Sorry … I overslept.”

“I know,” she said softly. “That’s why Lyle let Storm into yer bedchamber.”

Rae snorted, casting his youngest son a mock-frown. “Is that why I awoke to foul dog breath in my face?”

Both boys started laughing at this, while Rae took his usual place at the head of the table.

They began their meal then, amidst his sons’ companionable chatter. Rae helped himself to a large wedge of bannock, smeared it with butter and honey, and ate with relish. After the night’s activities, he was hungry this morning. As was Kylie, he noted. Usually, she only ate a single wedge of bannock—aye, he noted such things about her—but this morning, she managed three , washed down with a large cup of weak ale.

They didn’t speak for a while, preferring to let Ailean and Lyle fill any silences. Ailean was enthusing about the pony he was learning to ride on, while Lyle was pestering him to let him help groom it.

“Did ye sleep well?” Rae asked Kylie eventually, meeting her eye.

To his pleasure, her cheeks went a charming shade of pink. “Aye,” she murmured. “Like a stone.”

“All is well this morning then?” He didn’t know why he was asking her this, only that he wished to reassure himself that she hadn’t awoken to regrets. He certainly hadn’t.

Their gazes held before she licked honey off her lower lip. The sight of her darting pink tongue sent a signal straight to his groin, and his rod sprang to attention. Curse it, he wouldn’t be able to rise from the table until the wood in his braies subsided. “Aye,” she replied, her voice slightly husky now.

Rae’s pulse quickened. How was he supposed to control himself around this woman? He’d been the one to stipulate that they’d meet in his bedchamber only once a week, but he regretted that now. He wanted her in his bed every night from now until spring.

Easy there, lad, the voice of reason checked him then. Once a week is sufficient. Ye don’t want to do anything foolish, do ye?

His mood sobered at the reminder. No, he didn’t. This arrangement was so that they both could enjoy the pleasures of the flesh they’d missed out on over the years—without getting entangled in a relationship.

After Donalda’s death, he’d made himself a promise. Marriage was a burden, and since he already carried much upon his shoulders, he wouldn’t take another wife.

Rae’s chest tightened then as he thought of Donalda, guilt spearing through him. The poor woman hadn’t meant to be a burden. She’d done her best. But being wedded to her had felt like a life sentence on The Bass Rock. Loneliness had dogged his steps of late, but he’d felt even more alone when he’d been married. He wouldn’t make such a mistake again—which meant he needed to keep the lovely Kylie at arm’s length.

Even so, her luminous gaze and the blush that had deepened upon her cheeks made it difficult not to stare at her now.

Yanking his gaze away, Rae reached for his cup of ale and took a deep draft.

He had to be careful.

The mist swirled in—its cool kiss feathering across Rae’s cheeks.

“The sea fret is as thick as porridge this morning,” one of his men grumbled behind him. “We’ll ride straight into the water at this rate.”

Rae cast a glance over his shoulder. “That’s why we need to be out here,” he pointed out. “The Ghost Raiders sail in on days like this. ”

The warrior’s brow furrowed. “ The Night Plunderer could be out there, Maclean.” He gestured to where a bank of thick, drifting mist obscured the Sound of Mull. “Right in front of us … but we’d never know.”

“Aye, but we’re waiting for them.”

Rae turned back to face the direction of travel and raked his gaze over the fog-shrouded landscape. He’d sent Jack and a party of warriors to scout the coastline north of Dounarwyse, while he took his party south.

His jaw tightened then. We’re ready for ye this time, ye bastards.

No, he wouldn’t be taken unawares this year. The wall around Dounarwyse village had been completed at the end of summer, and he now posted guards around it after nightfall. The defenses would prevent the Ghost Raiders from sacking the hamlet.

Those reivers had plagued his thoughts for a while now—even so, this morning, he found it difficult to brood on them as he often did.

A day had passed since the best night of his life, and he kept catching himself grinning like a fool at the most inconvenient moments. Indeed, his mood was so buoyant that he’d caught his brother watching him quizzically earlier that morning, when they’d talked in the barmkin before setting off on their patrols.

“I thought ye’d be scowling at the sight of such thick fog,” Jack had noted, his gaze narrowing. “But ye look almost cheerful about it.”

Rae had hurriedly schooled his features into a more solemn expression at this observation, for Jack was as sharp as a boning knife and would wonder why his surly elder brother was walking around with a daft smile upon his face .

Even so, as he’d ridden out with his men, a sense of well-being had settled over him. He felt a decade younger this morning.

It hit him then—as the rumble of waves on the shore below drifted through the damp air, and somewhere in the mist, a goat bleated—how smothered he’d felt over the years. He’d been weighed down by responsibilities he’d taken on too young. But Kylie Grant had blown into his life like a spring storm and freed him from his troubles. Thanks to her, he could breathe once more.

And now, as he rode amongst the swirling mist, another smile tugged at his lips.

He was ready for the Ghost Raiders and now bedded a beautiful, lusty lady once a week. Life was looking brighter than it had in a long while.

“Lady Grant.”

Kylie’s head jerked up, mortification prickling her skin as she focused on the lad seated across from her. How many times had Ailean said her name? He was looking at her quizzically now.

Embarrassed to have been caught a thousand leagues away, she cleared her throat. “Aye, Ailean?” Curse her, she needed to concentrate. Instead, she’d been reliving her delicious encounter with the laird of Dounarwyse, and wishing the days would pass faster so that she could go to him again.

“I’ve finished.”

She smiled. “Good … let me see what ye have written. ”

The boy handed her his pine-wood board, and she read the sentences he’d painstakingly etched upon it.

I am called Ailean Rae Maclean. Rae Baird Maclean, chieftain of Dounarwyse, is my father.

“Well done,” she murmured, glancing up to find Ailean watching her intently. She couldn’t let thoughts of Rae distract her. She’d been hired to teach his sons, and that had to be her focus. She’d moved to Mull to gain a modicum of freedom and independence—as much as a woman was allowed—and she had to carry out her role well to ensure her place here remained secure. “Yer hand is improving.” She flashed him an encouraging smile. “Soon ye shall be ready to write with a quill and ink, like yer father.”

“Will I too?” Lyle asked, glancing up from where he was still writing. The lad sat next to Kylie this morning upon a long bench.

“No,” Ailean replied with a snort. “Ye are too wee. I shall write with a quill long before ye do.”

In response, Lyle muttered an oath and was about to jam his elbow into Ailean’s ribs when Kylie caught his arm.

“Of course, ye will,” she said firmly. “Yer brother is only riling ye.”

“Baby,” Ailean muttered, and Lyle’s blue eyes started to gleam with unshed tears.

Kylie cut Ailean a quelling look before she focused on his little brother once more. “Ailean will always be yer elder,” she said gently. “And ye must get used to it.”

“But I want to learn to ride … to write with a quill,” he replied, his voice a trifle querulous .

“And ye shall.” She paused then before giving a rueful shake of her head. “I have two elder sisters and two younger … I know what it’s like to compare yerself to a sibling.” Confusion shadowed his gaze at these words, so she continued. “My two elder sisters, Sonia and Alma, are beauties … while my two younger siblings, Liza and Makenna, have fiery natures that make them impossible to ignore. Growing up, they received all the attention … while I sometimes felt invisible.”

“Ye are bonnie too, Lady Grant,” Ailean piped up then, his voice contrite. He didn’t like being ignored in favor of his brother. “ And fiery.”

She flashed Ailean a smile before focusing on Lyle once more. “The point remains that in families there will always be rivalry.” Her mouth quirked again. “And there are some benefits to being the younger sibling, ye know?”

“There are?” Lyle looked doubtful.

“Aye, yer father will be harder on his firstborn and more lenient with ye. And ye can learn from Ailean’s experiences and mistakes too … and avoid some of them.”

“I can?”

“Aye.”

“I won’t make any mistakes,” Ailean said boldly.

Kylie huffed a laugh and reached across, ruffling his mop of auburn hair. “Aye, ye will, lad … we all do.”

“That is a lovely tune … I haven’t heard ‘Wild Mountain Thyme’ in a long while. ”

Seated on the window seat in the lady’s solar, continuing the embroidery that Makenna had left behind, Kylie glanced over at where Tara had just entered the chamber.

“Thank ye,” Kylie replied, embarrassed. In truth, she preferred to sing when she was alone. Her voice wasn’t as good as some of her sisters’, or her mother’s. “It’s always been my favorite.” Her gaze shifted to the tray Tara carried, bearing a jug and two wooden cups. “What have ye brought?”

Tara flashed her a smile. “The first of the apple wine … I thought as the mist is finally clearing, we could share a cup.”

Kylie grinned back. Indeed, it was a relief to see the world again. The last tendrils of fog were now rolling out to sea, revealing one of those autumn afternoons when the light was golden, and every detail outdoors stood out in sharp relief. From her vantage point by the window, she had an arresting view over the pastures and tilled fields that rolled west of the broch. The sight had been so bonnie that she’d been compelled to sing.

Casting aside her embroidery, she made space on the window seat while Tara placed the tray on a nearby table and poured them cups of wine.

“How are ye faring since yer sister left?” Tara asked, bringing over the wine and perching next to her. The sunlight burnished the woman’s red mane, making it look as if it were aflame. Kylie had never seen anyone with such bright hair.

“Well enough,” she answered with a half-smile. It wouldn’t do to appear too exuberant, or Tara would wonder at the reason. “Although, I do miss Makenna.” She paused then. “I worry about her too.”

Tara’s mouth curved, even as her silvery gaze shadowed. “That is only natural … all of us fret about our siblings. ”

“Aye … but Makenna is a proud one and wedded to serving in our father’s Guard.” Her brow furrowed, and she took a sip of the sweet apple wine. “I fear yer brother may be disappointed in his bride.”

Tara snorted. “On the contrary, Makenna is likely exactly what Bran needs.” Her mouth kicked up into another smile then. “A strong-willed man requires a woman to match him.”

Kylie smiled, even as she thought about her own marriage. Errol had been dominant, yet she’d smothered her feisty nature to please him. It hadn’t worked. Perhaps if she’d shown more spirit, things might have been different between them. Shaking herself free of a past she couldn’t change, she eyed Tara. “Well, it’s fortunate for Jack that ye have a nature to match yer hair.”

Tara threw back her head and laughed, and when her gaze met Kylie’s once more, it sparkled. “I’m glad ye came to live with us,” she said, still smiling. “As much as I love it here, I’ve missed having someone to talk to.” She paused then, sobering. “Donalda and I were never close … but I can be myself with ye.”

Kylie took this admission in with interest. “What was she like?”

“Quiet … self-restrained,” Tara replied with a rueful shake of her head. “I don’t think I ever saw her and Rae bicker … not like Jack and I do.” She paused then. “Donalda was an excellent chatelaine though … I always admired the way she managed the broch.”

Kylie nodded at this yet refrained from asking anything else. It wouldn’t do to appear too interested in the laird’s wife.

Meanwhile, Tara continued to drink her wine, observing Kylie over the rim of her cup .

Her gaze had turned speculative now, and Kylie tensed. “What is it?”

Tara shook her head. “I’m not sure … I can’t put my finger on it … but somehow, ye are different today.”

“I am?” she replied, taking care to appear amused rather than flustered by this observation.

“Aye, there’s more color to yer cheeks, yer eyes are brighter, and ye smile more readily.” Tara paused then, her lips curving. “And I caught ye singing like a bird just now.”

Kylie’s pulse quickened, even as she shrugged. “Maybe living at Dounarwyse suits me.”

Tara’s smile widened. “I’d say it does.”