Page 14 of To Wed a Laird (English Brides and Highland Vows #1)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The stallholder smiled at both of them as she put the dress away in a cloth bag, then looked in astonishment at the gold Cormac had given her.

“But M’Laird, it is too much!” she protested.

Cormac smiled and closed her hand over the coins he had just given her. “Do not argue with your Laird,” he said gently, smiling.

The money he had given her would buy enough fabric to make five dresses. The woman’s face lit up, and she gave him a deep curtsey. “Thank ye, M’Laird,” she said happily.

Rose and Cormac strolled along the street again, and she was impressed by how deferential people were to him. Even when a little boy of about three ran out in front of him, squealing with laughter, he knelt down in front of him, then asked him his name.

“Davie,” the boy said. “What is yours?”

“M’laird!” a young woman came up to them, looking very flustered. “I am so sorry! I couldnae stop him!”

Cormac stood up, but he was smiling. “Little boys are always naughty,” he replied, looking down at the child again. “You can call me Lairdy,” he said, then they moved away, and Rose noticed that they were walking towards the tavern.

“You are very good with children,” she observed.

“I have one of my own,” he replied, “and as you have found out, bringing up Elspeth is no easy task. Now, I think it is time for a drink and something to eat. Are you hungry?”

“Indeed I am,” Rose replied. “Do you think they have haggis?”

Cormac’s blue eyes widened in amazement. “What kind of monster have I created?” he asked. “I think you would live on the stuff if I let you!”

“Hmm,” Rose mused. “The haggis-eating Rose?”

He laughed heartily at that. “Well, you are very lucky, my dear monster because haggis is served here every day. Not only that, it is made to a special recipe that our cook at the castle devised, so I know you’ll like it.”

“Wonderful,” Rose murmured.

She looked up at the name of the tavern: The Shorn Sheep. It was very appropriate for a wool-growing area, she thought.

They went inside, and many of the patrons stood up to greet Cormac, who knew a lot of them by name, which surprised Rose enormously.

She had a notion that someone in Cormac’s position would consider his tenants and the villagers far beneath his notice.

Yet, the more she found out about Cormac, the more she realised that his own experiences had moulded him into a sympathetic and caring person, which was one of the reasons she liked him so much.

They found a table by the hearth and Rose was glad of the warmth, since dusk was just beginning to fall and there was already a chill in the air. A young woman came to their table almost at once and Cormac ordered the haggis, as well as two glasses of whisky.

“I thought I told you I don’t like whisky?” Rose asked mischievously.

Cormac raised his eyebrows, then assumed an expression of mock severity. “You will like this one,” he ordered sternly. “Or I will want to know why!”

Rose pretended to be cowed, but a moment later they both burst out laughing. This caused the other patrons to look at them in curiosity, and a buzz of conversation began.

It looked as though their Laird was courting again!

If Rose sensed the villagers’ interest, she said nothing, but gazed into the fire, smiling in contentment.

Presently, the landlord of the inn arrived bearing a tray with two glasses of amber liquid on it. Cormac thanked him and gave him a few coins. “For the staff,” he said.

The man smiled at him and said, “Thank ye, M’laird,” then hurried away to share the coins amongst his workers.

For the second time that day, Rose was astonished by his generosity. “You are very kind to everyone,” she said.

Cormac shook his head. “Not really,” he said. “Without all the people who work for me, I would have a great deal less than I have now. It is only fair that I should give a little back.”

Rose stared at him in wonder. With all the misfortune he had suffered, she would have expected him to be a bitter and twisted man, but he was exactly the opposite.

“Try the whisky,” Cormac said, interrupting her reverie. “In fact, why do we not drink a toast? To Elspeth, Nell and Rose.”

“And Cormac,” Rose supplied.

“And him too,” Cormac said with a sigh. “Sláinte Mhath!”

Rose frowned. “Sláinte Mhath!” she said uncertainly, then took a sip.

The whisky burned a fiery path down her throat and she coughed, but after a moment its aromatic aftertaste came through.

“Mmm! This is lovely. I have to admit, I was truthful when I said I was not keen on this spirit, but this is lovely.” She took another sip.

“Thank you,” Cormac said. “We distil here on the estate from our own barley. We sell most of it, but quite a bit of it is kept for our own use. The MacTavish name means something special around here, so next time you see a bottle, you will know where it comes from.”

He took another sip of his whisky, and Rose watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed. The differences between her body and a man’s had always fascinated her, but she had never experienced a surge of desire before as she observed a man drinking!

“Tell me about your home, Rose,” Cormac said suddenly. “I believe you have two sisters?”

Rose’s heart lurched. This was the subject she least wanted to talk about, in case it led to her revealing secrets she did not want him to know. She pasted a smile on her face, however.

“Yes,” she replied. “Claire and Amanda.” She laughed.

“They could not be more unlike each other. Claire has a wild sense of humour and can light up a room just by walking into it. Amanda is so gentle that everyone goes to her with their problems because she is not a talker, but a listener. I love them both so much, and I miss them terribly, but it is because of them that I’m here. ”

Cormac frowned. “When I met your father,” he said, “I had gone to buy some livestock in the north of England and I met him there. He was selling some cattle. He told me that you wanted to train to be a governess, and I said I needed someone to look after Elspeth. It seemed like fate.”

Rose sighed. She had tried to keep her father’s true nature and motives secret, but now she knew that she could trust this fine man, she decided to tell him everything.

“My sisters are the reason I am here,” she told him, then she launched into the story of her father’s devastation after the death of her mother, his descent into depravity and dissolution, and finally, she told him the real reason she was working for him.

“He became a selfish tyrant,” she said. “So here I am. I need to earn some money to send back to the family, and you pay very generously. It was not the life I had envisaged for myself, and definitely not what I would have chosen, but I am so glad that things turned out this way because I feel as though I am helping someone.”

“Are you happy here?” Cormac asked, smiling tenderly.

“Yes, I am,” Rose replied. “I am glad to have met Elspeth, and Nell, and you, of course, and this is such a lovely place.”

They finished their meal and Cormac poured them another glass of whisky. Rose laughed softly. “Are you trying to make me drunk?”

“No, Rose,” Cormac replied. Then he said wickedly, “But if you don’t want it, I can dispose of it for you.”

“No more after this, then,” she said, laughing.

Cormac looked at her empty plate with a bemused expression. “Haggis is not safe around you, is it?” he asked.

“No, indeed it is not!” Rose replied. “It’s the most delicious thing I have ever tasted.” Then something occurred to her. “Do you have any brothers and sisters?”

Cormac shook his head. “No,” he replied. “My mother, like yours, died in childbirth, as so many women do, but I was too young to remember her. My father was killed in battle when I was twenty, and I have been master of the estate since then.”

“That must have been a heavy responsibility at such a young age,” Rose remarked sadly.

“I have a good steward,” he replied. “He was my father’s man, and he has stayed by my side all these years. He has taught me practically everything I know, and I doubt I could have managed without him.” He took another sip of his whisky and fell silent, as if something else were on his mind.

“When were you married?” Rose asked tentatively.

Cormac gulped down the rest of his whisky in one swallow, then looked down at his hands, which were resting on the table. Rose could see that it was a painful subject for him, and was about to apologise and change the subject, then he replied.

“Shortly after I became Laird,” he replied.

“Against my will, but my father had left instructions that if I did not marry, I would not inherit.

It was not a love match at first, but it quickly became one.

Elspeth was born almost exactly nine months later after we married.

I loved Catherine so much that when she died, I almost did too—of a broken heart.

Somehow I survived, but I always felt that I should have died instead of her. In fact, I know I should have. Catherine would have known how to bring Elspeth up properly. I am only a man, and we are not good at these things.”

He gave a humourless laugh and ordered another glass of whisky. Rose looked at him in alarm, wondering what quantity of whisky it would take to make him completely intoxicated.

“Cormac,” she said gently, “perhaps you should make this your last glass. You don’t want Elspeth to see you drunk.”

“She has seen me drunk before,” he told her, then he looked into her dark eyes and saw her anxiety. “But you are right, Rose. I will not have any more.”

“You know, you are too hard on yourself,” she said, feeling infinitely sorry for this big, strong man who was desperately trying to mend a shattered heart. She reached across the table and laid her hand on his, once more marvelling at how small hers was compared to his enormous one.

“You never gave up on her, Cormac, and she never stopped loving you. And it is perfectly all right to ask for help.”

Cormac looked down at the little hand lying on top of his, then he raised it to his lips and kissed it. “Thank you for your understanding, Rose. I am so glad you came to us.”

“So am I,” she replied, with a gentle smile.

“More haggis?” Cormac asked suddenly, his eyes twinkling.

Rose burst out laughing. “I think perhaps I will leave it till tomorrow,” she replied. “Or I might burst.”

“Then what would Elspeth do?” he asked.

They left the tavern and moved out into the calm evening air, then walked towards the horses.

Rose was reluctant to go, but it was not safe to ride home in the dark.

The sun was low on the horizon now, and stripes of deep pink and pale gold were gradually moving in to replace the blue of daytime.

It was a truly beautiful sight, all the more so because it was so rare in Scotland, and it fitted Rose’s mood perfectly.

The horses were tethered in the deep shade of an ash tree by the side of the tavern, and Rose approached them reluctantly.

It had been such a wonderful day that she had no wish to end it.

She had never seen Cormac smile so widely and happily before; he looked as if some inner light was shining out of him suddenly, and it warmed her heart to see it.

When they reached the horses, Rose turned to Cormac, expecting to be helped up, but she found him standing gazing down at her. His look was one she had never seen before, intense, concentrated, focused on her to the exclusion of everything else around them.

“Cormac?” she asked, her voice uncertain.

“Have I ever told you what beautiful eyes you have, Rose?” he asked gently.

“No… but thank you,” she replied, smiling, albeit a bit shy.

“They were the first thing I noticed about you,” he went on, then laughed softly. “I think they cast a spell on me.”

Rose’s heart skipped a beat, and she felt herself blushing.

She could think of nothing to say in reply.

She was standing so close to Cormac that she could feel the heat of his body and smell his now-familiar scent, which always had the same effect on her; her arousal was stronger than it had ever been before.

“A spell?” she asked, laughing. “Are you calling me a witch?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “But a good witch.”

He tilted her chin up so that he could look into her eyes even more deeply, and for a few moments something passed between them.

It was a warm, silent, beautiful tension, which ended when Cormac leaned down to touch his lips to hers, at first so gently that the touch was feather-soft. After a moment, however, it became a deep, passionate caress as he pressed his tongue-tip against the seam of her lips and Rose opened to him.

He swept into her mouth, his tongue tangling with hers, and she gave a gentle whimper of pleasure, loving the sensations he was arousing, not just on her lips, but all over her body.

Unconsciously, she stepped closer so that they were pressed against each other, and Rose felt a surge of pride and triumph as she felt how much he wanted her.

Cormac was astounded. He had not planned this when he asked Rose to accompany him to the market; yes, he was attracted to her, yes, she had all the qualities he valued in a woman, but he had not foreseen this at all.

But he loved it. It was heavenly to feel the caress of a pair of soft, yielding woman’s lips again, and he felt his body surge into glorious life as it obeyed all his masculine urges.

He wanted Rose quite desperately, and he was afraid it was more than just desire.