Page 31 of The Laird's Wicked Game
She observed him with interest. It was hard to reconcile the serious man he’d become with the light-hearted lad he’d once been. Suddenly, she was curious to know more about the events that had shaped Rae Maclean. However, now wasn’t the time or place for such conversations. She was relieved though that they’d spoken frankly about other matters. She didn’t want there to be awkwardness between them.
“Would ye have supper with me in my solar, this eve?” he asked then, taking her by surprise.
Kylie stiffened. The last time they’d been alone in his solar, he’d kissed her. All the same, a while had passed since then, and they’d patched things up. He’d put the incident behind him and was clearly trying to mend things between them. She should let him. And so, after a moment, she nodded. “Very well.”
Rae’s mood gradually lightened on the way home. He’d needed to get away from Dounarwyse for a few hours, to put this morning behind him. When he’d ridden out of the broch earlier, he’d been tense, his blood still boiling after dealing with Tormod MacDougall. The knave’s parting words to Makenna had made him long to string the whoreson up by his neck from the walls. But since the flogging had already upset many of the broch’s residents, he didn’t wish to traumatize them further.
Even so, it was only when they’d reached the top of the mountain ridge that the anger finally drained from Rae. Guilt had needled him then. Maybe his decision to force everyone in the broch to watch MacDougall’s punishment had been a little harsh. His sons were still wee, after all.
Ye need to be softer with them. Aye, and he would be. Ailean and Lyle would leave childhood behind soon enough. From now on, he’d let his sons enjoy their innocence and freedom while they had it.
Ailean rode double with him now, his arms wrapped around his father’s waist, while Lyle traveled perched in front of one of the laird’s men. Kylie followed close behind on her sure-footed garron as they picked their way down the mountain slopes. As soon as they reached the foothills, they quickened their pace to a brisk canter. Storm bounded next to Rae’s courser, a streak of white, grey, and black against the swathes of heather surrounding them.
It had been a good day out, an overdue adventure for his sons. The lads had been pestering him to take them to the top of Dùn da Ghaoithe for a while, but he’d kept putting the trip off.
Dounarwyse lay just a few furlongs distant now—and for the first time in a long while, Rae felt almost at peace with himself and the world.
Indeed, he’d felt so at ease with Kylie earlier, as they stood shoulder-to-shoulder, looking out over the spectacular views, that he’d invited her to supper.
Was that wise?
Probably not. His invitation had been impulsive, and he’d marked her hesitation.He’d then braced himself for her refusal and inwardly chided himself for feeling relieved when she’d accepted. The truth was, he liked talking to Kylie and didn’t want to spend yet another evening with only his thoughts for company.
It’s just a meal between a laird and the woman who tutors his bairns, he told himself firmly.Where’s the harm in that?
By the time they clattered into Dounarwyse’s barmkin, the broch’s stone gilded by the early evening light, supper was approaching. Both lads were exhausted after the day’s adventures, and Rae carried Lyle upstairs to his bedchamber, with Ailean at his heel.
Esme was waiting with a hot bath for the lads.
Usually, Rae would have left the maid to her task then, but something made him linger this evening. Was it guilt? He’d been such a grumpy bastard with Ailean and Lyle of late. He intended to remedy that.
To everyone’s surprise, he sent Esme away to fetch the bairns’ suppers and set about bathing his sons himself. Kylie would be joining him shortly for supper in his solar, but in the meantime, it pleased him to see the lads splashing around in the large iron tub together. He wanted them to relax in his company, as they once had.
Ailean grumbled good-naturedly while Rae washed his hair, although Lyle wailed when his father accidentally got soap in his eyes. Ailean then called his wee brother a ‘mewling babe’, and Rae had to pull them apart as they started scrapping.
These two were just like him and Jack at the same age. As the elder, Rae had often teased his wee brother—behavior that usually ended in a fight.
A few stern words reminded both lads of their manners, although Storm, excited by the noise the bairns were making, nosed his way in then, licking Ailean and Lyle’s faces until they squealed. Muttering, Rae pushed the collie aside. However, thinking this was a new game, Storm barked, reared up on his hindlegs, and raced at him.
The collision nearly sent Rae headfirst into the tub.
“Storm wants to play!” Lyle laughed.
“Does he?” Entering the chaotic spirit of the evening, Rae shoved the dog playfully away. “Off with ye then!” His sons giggled as, once again, Storm backed up, gave a feisty bark, and then barreled into him.
By the time Esme returned with their suppers—two bowls of leek and haddock stew with fresh oaten bread—father and sons were all laughing while Storm bounced around them, his barks echoing through the bedchamber.
The lass murmured an oath under her breath as she surveyed the scene. “That was a ruckus indeed, Maclean,” Esme observed. “I could hear ye from the kitchen.”
Grinning, Rae rose to his feet and ordered Storm to go and sit by the bed. “Aye, sorry about that.” He then nodded to his sons. “Come on, lads … let’s get ye dried and dressed.”
It was a mild evening, and so the hearth was unlit. Even so, Ailean and Lyle perched on stools before it, while Rae sat cross-legged on the sheepskin nearby, watching them eat. After the day’s adventures, both boys were ravenous.
And as Rae observed them, his throat tightened. He’d missed out on much of late. He’d let loneliness and bitterness, and his worries about the security of Dounarwyse, blinker him. But the truth was his sons mattered as much to him as his responsibilities as laird. He couldn’t let them think otherwise.
“Can I have a riding lesson tomorrow, Da?” Ailean asked as he wiped up the last of his stew with a scrap of bread.
“I’m out on patrol tomorrow, lad,” Rae replied. Ailean’s green eyes guttered, and he added. “But next week, I will give ye a lesson … ye have my word.”