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“What’s his name?”
The man shrugged. “Our man’s a respectable fellow, see, who don’t like to give his name. By the docks, we just call him the Bishop. ”
“And this Bishop, he’s in charge of the whole business?” Though Aidan knew it wasn’t the man he sought, it was one step closer to the man he did.
“He’s in charge of the money, and that’s all I need to know. ” The yeoman pulled a greasy wad of papers from his breast pocket and riffled through till he found what he was looking for. “Here,” he said, pinning a scribbled address with his beefy finger. “You can find him here. ”
Aidan felt the yeoman’s eyes on him as he considered the meaningless scrawl he pretended to read.
“You can find it, aye?” the yeoman asked, a hint of insolent humor in his tone.
Aidan peeled his lips into a snarl and simply grabbed the paper out of the man’s hand. “I can now. ”
Chapter 11
Elspeth sat alone in the cavernous Dunnottar dining hall with naught to do but fidget. She knew she should’ve waited for Aidan to come to her, but when Anya casually mentioned that her brother had returned from his trip, she couldn’t wait. She had to seek him out.
I’ve not met your like before. The words had been a constant hum in her head since he’d left a week past. Her body, a constant hum, as she remembered the look in his eyes as they’d lingered on her mouth.
He’d had a sort of serious aspect, gazing at her with purpose, like he’d wanted to kiss her. Could such a thing be true? Never had a man studied her in such a manner, but then again, she’d never been kissed. What sort of expression did a man get before kissing a woman?
She nervously adjusted her quill and ink again, shuffling her pile of papers, again. What would he think of her appearing like this on his doorstep? What madness had overtaken her? It was time for another lesson, certainly, but to show up so shamelessly unsolicited?
Elspeth replayed their moment once more. I’ve not met your like.
Why had memory infused such simple words with such pretty meaning? Of course he’d never met her like— she was the awkward and bookish daughter of a poor farmer. He was used to exotic women, who’d wear richly brocaded gowns, draping ropes of gold along their sunkissed skin, with giant gems nestled in lush décolletage.
When she walked away from that silly hanging tree, she’d felt so close to him, like they were connected. But it wasn’t as though he’d really touched her, like a man touched a woman, so why did it feel as though he must have? Truly, she was the only one who’d been doing the touching, roving her hands down his arms like some Jezebel.
She looked nervously around the dining hall, feeling like a bird who’d had its wings clipped. She could simply leave, though if Aidan’s siblings found him, then they’d surely embark on a search for her.
Elspeth heard disembodied voices coming down the hallway.
She needed to fashion some pretext for coming. Fisting her hands in her skirts, she racked her mind for possible excuses.
“Did I misunderstand?” She smiled coyly. “Did you not say we should meet today?”
“If I didn’t make such a suggestion, then more fool I. ” Aidan took the room in three great strides, grasping her hands in his. “It is lovely to see you again, Elspeth. I’ve thought of little else but this moment. ”
“I don’t know where that girl has got to. Hiding like a church mouse. Such a strange creature! Who’s to understand the ways of … Ah!” Bridget leaned against the doorjamb, sticking her head through the door. She called back over her shoulder, “Here she is. ”
Elspeth sat tall, imagining refinement, poise. She’d be cool and collected.
Aidan appeared in the doorway, his magnetic presence eclipsing all else around him. Despite her preparations, she knew a dizzying rush. It was so good—and so terrifying—to see him again.
She’d begun to wonder if she’d imagined his virtues, if Aidan wasn’t really some boor, shorter or stouter than the man in her fantasies. But he wasn’t. He was better than she’d remembered.
He was tall and strong, and though the tan of his skin had faded, the sun had left behind fine lines at his eyes and mouth. His eyes na
rrowed on her, looking much like a dashing buccaneer.
She opened her mouth to speak, but feared she resembled a gasping fish more than a genteel lady, which had been the effect she’d hoped for. She forced words out. “I’m afraid … it seems …”
Aidan swooped past his sister, his expression dark and dour, storming in like a Viking set on plunder. “Just the woman I’d been wishing to see. ”
“Did I misunderst—” Elspeth froze. “Me? You’d been wishing to see … me?”
He held a rolled blanket and adjusted the awkward bundle in his arms. “There’s no lassies hiding under the table, are there?” Kicking a chair away from the table, he sat next to her. “I feel you at my back, girl. You can leave us now. ”
