Page 26 of Highlander’s Lust

Seated all alone at the long dining table, Jean found she had little appetite. If she were to be honest with herself, she had not had much of an appetite since the first time she had seen Charlie Brisbane. Her nervous fingers picked apart the fresh white bread on her plate until it was fragments of crumbs. Her thoughts were occupied with the manly image her husband had presented to the world at his father’s wake. The way he strode into the banquet hall, his slate grey eyes laughing with merriment at something his friend had just said to him, his dark hair cast into shadow and light from the slanting rays of sunshine coming through the slatted windows. The set of his broad shoulders, the way she could see the outline of his muscular thighs under his plaid with every step he took.

Jean’s fingers grew still, the breadcrumbs on her plate untouched.

What feeling had her first sight of Laird Charlie Brisbane generated inside her?

Her blood had rushed away from her head and into her stomach so fast she had felt giddy. The flood of pulsing heat, parts of her body tingling that she had paid no attention to before...was it love? Had she, proud, queenly Miss Jean Macanroy, fallen in love at first sight?

Without even knowing anything of his character, she had experienced something akin to what could only be described as an intense surge of love course over her.

Jean could not bear to wait any longer. She had to know what Charlie was doing at the tavern. She pushed her plate away and called a footman over to her.

“Make ready a pony for me. I want to go riding.”

After having to use her strictest tone to discourage one of the grooms from accompanying her, Jean drove her heels into the pony’s sides and applied her crop to its withers in her haste to get to Carnachscallie. She was less than half a mile away when she saw the recognizable shape of her husband mounted on his favorite destrier coming toward her. He must have recognized her at the same time, because he spurred his horse into a canter, bringing it to a sharp halt in front of her.

“What brings ye out, Wife?” Laird Brisbane looked anxious. “I gave specific orders to me grooms for ye to never be left alone. Someone’s head will roll for this neglect o’ ye!”

He looked so ferocious, Jean’s mind was cast back to the dangerous warrior she had seen training in the courtyard that morning.

“Nay! Charlie, I beg ye, no heads must roll. I gave me own orders. I used to ride all over the countryside on me own back at the lodge. Dinnae take that pleasure away from me.”

He frowned. “The man can ride hidden from yer sight, lass, but a groom ye must have.” Laird Brisbane stopped and thought for a moment. “Ye did nae answer me first question. What brings ye out?”

Jean gave her husband the truth unvarnished. “I came to check on ye.”

He shouted with laughter. “Ha! Ye came to reconnoiter the way o’ things, did ye, Wife? Well? Are ye satisfied? D’ye want to check me back?”

Jean returned his smile and began to turn her mount around to face the same way as his lairdship’s.

“After what ye told me about harlots preferring to face the other way—whatever that means—I doubt I should be looking for the scratches there. On yer toes, perhaps?”

They laughed and spent a very enjoyable time riding back to the castle together, with Laird Brisbane regaling her with stories about some of the more ridiculous situations men had found themselves in with harlots.

As they rode into the stables, the head groom overheard Charlie saying to Jean, “And then the wench left him tied to the bedposts, took his clothes and wallet, and rode off on the poor man’s horse!”

The groom watched Laird and Lady Brisbane laughing fit to burst, and shook his head. He would never understand the nobility.

When Charlie helped Jean off her pony, he did not immediately put her on the ground but held her in his arms and kissed her. Then they walked back into the castle hand in hand.

Later on that evening, Jean ran on tiptoes back to her maid’s bedchamber next to the dressing room.

“Eby, are ye awake? Tell me all that ye saw.”

Eby yawned, but was quite happy to recount what she had spied out in the tavern.

“Me lady, ‘tis a nasty, pox-ridden place! Indeed, it seems unnatural for any man to want to visit there frequently. It was so dark, however, I was easily able to conceal me face with the traveling cloak. Sure enough, the master was inside, but here’s the strange part—the two men argufying over the disputed land had no’ called for him! They were happy to discuss the matter over a mug o’ ale.”

“Is that all?” Jean’s feet were getting cold in her slippers, even though Eby’s bedchamber had a thick rag rug on the floor.

“Nay, ‘tis no’ all. The master joined them for ale and called for some whisky. The moment he had a few tasses of the stuff inside him, along came half a dozen nasty harpies, all eager to drag his lairdship upstairs.”

Jean gasped. Eby patted her hand.

“Never ye mind, me lady. The master told them all to be gone. And...then he called over the barkeep and told the man in no uncertain terms to rid his establishment of harlots before he—Laird Brisbane—cleared them out for him!”

Jean felt tears of joy prick her eyes. She gave Eby a hug and ran back to the master bedchamber.

Charlie felt his wife get into bed. He vowed to have a wash chamber built next to her dressing room so that she would not have to get up in the night and walk so far to the water closet. He must order it completed before the leaves fell and the nights grew cold.

As if she were able to read his thoughts, his wife moved closer to him and wrapped her arms around his waist.