“Leith…” Mary said while parting from his embrace, “why do I sense that there is a lot more than what you are telling me?”
Please don’t look under that rock, lass. Ye cannae handle what ye will find.
“Believe me, lass,” and forgive me God for lyin’. “There is naything else.”
She did not say anything more but he could feel that she did not believe him. Reaching out for her hand he smiled when she looped her arm around his. It was the only touch he could tolerate at the moment as he took her back to the great hall. Supper was winding down with half the hall empty. Tarrant was back at his seat and so were his wife, Logan and Adair Allanach but the steward and the two ladies, McCreery and Tulloch, were gone.
He was glad Lady McCreery was gone. He had never liked her and kept wondering what Lady Robasdan saw in her. He seated Mary at the top of the table and went to the other end. There, he took his goblet and grasping the jug of water, while wishing it was wine, poured himself a glass. Lady Robasdan began to engage Mary in conversation and he was happy for her to be distracted.
As he sipped the water, he reflected on the last few moments. The devil himself could not have done a better job as planting those seeds of lust in his gut. The thought of tasting her luscious lips, leaving a trail of possessive marks down her neck to sampling her breasts, had him spinning with lust, unlike anything he had ever felt before.
Now, the fire or desire had settled into a smoldering blaze in his chest and reason was taking over passion. He knew he would have hated himself if he had kissed her, but now that he had not, he hated himself even more for losing the chance but felt deep within himself what he had done was right.
He felt that a sleepless night was forecast for him and he did not object. He needed to get his priorities in order and figure out what he needed from himself when it came to Mary. He had offered to take her to his home where the temptation was going to be even stronger. But he would never rescind his offer. He’d rather jump into the nearby loch than take away her place of asylum.
Mary was chatting with Lady Robasdan and picking at her slice of pie while Tarrant came close to him. “Dinnae break yer vow I can see.”
“It was a test from hell,” Leith said dully. “It was like walking over coals barefoot when there was a lake of water beside me. Tarrant, I cannae explain to ye the temptation that gripped me before I forced meself to walk away.”
Tarrant looked over to his wife, who was speaking to Mary, and dipped his voice, “How are ye going to control yerself when she’s there?”
“I dinnae ken, friend,” Leith sighed in despondency, “and with the troubles of me Faither…I’ll have to find some way to make do.”
* * *
It was a mirror of the morning they had set out for Aunt Linda’s house but this time, the air was white with fog. Mary was bundled up with her coat and a knitted scarf around her neck. His goodbyes were said already and he waited for Mary to say hers. She was kissed on the cheek by Lady Robasdan and hugged too before she mounted her horse and came over to him.
“Lead the way, Leith,” she said. Her pleasant voice was half muffled from the scarf but he heard her. Nodding, he lifted his hand to salute Tarrant and then they were off.
They crossed the bridge and traveled the short distance of the forest in silence. He took another route, sliced diagonally atop of Ettrick Waters as they had to get to Glasgow then past Loch Lamond and then into the Highlands. He did not want Mary to sleep in the forest so he took them on the roads. Roads always led to towns and towns always had inns.
When they came to a halt in a small copse of trees miles beyond the northern gate of the Robasdan’s stronghold, Mary stopped her horse abruptly and turned to face him. “I will not ride a foot further until you tell me the truth, Leith.”
“Beg your pardon?” he asked, askance.
“What you told me last night was a pile of, God forgive me, hogwash. I know you’re keeping something from me. What is it? Haven’t I earned your trust by now.”
“Drop it, lass,” he warned her, “it is not good for ye to ken.”
“Then we’ll be here all night,” Mary announced.
His jaw began to work in agitation. This Mary was not the lovely, soft-spoken person he knew. This was another side of her, probably the side of her that had spurred her to run from England. It was a side he was not prepared for and one he could not handle in his unstable state of mind.
Last night he had twisted and turned on his bed with his heart in conflict with his mind when it came to Mary. Even when he rose before dawn, he still had not come to a set conclusion on how he was going to dispel or even hide his attraction to Mary.
And now, she was not helping his case either. With her head tilted up so stubbornly, her lips flat and her cheeks red with determination, he found it too alluring to resist. If he stayed there one more moment, he was going to splinter down the fractured seams and crack in half.
“Ye’ll be there all night,” he said stonily, “not I.”
Pride took a fall and he shamed his ancestors by turning around and riding off. He sped
