Devil's Own

Page 12

He’d only ever been with hardened women, who perceived sex as currency, or pursued it for their self-flattering pleasure alone. But Elspeth was gentle, and innocent still.
In her darkest, most passionate heart, who was she really? If he touched her, would he find the meek girl she showed to the world, or the woman with the spark in her eyes? Because such a woman would be a wondrous thing—over, under, and beside a man.
Which was the true Elspeth? He ran his finger over the brand, thinking he had a mind to shock the real woman right out of her.
Chapter 9
Elspeth nearly fainted as she led Imogen back into the paddock after milking. Aidan had showed up shirtless, wearing naught but his plaid, and was galloping down the hillside to the pasture. To her pasture.
He crested the hill. Hiking her skirts, she ran to meet him halfway.
Naked chest heaving, he swept her into his arms.
“I raced the whole way. I couldn’t stay away.”
She laughed as he spun her. “Are you come to kiss me?”
A sheep butted her hip, and she looked down to find a lean black face looking up at her. The creature was a scraggly thing, with a star of white on her forehead. “Aye, Athena, and so you’re right. A girl needs to remember what she’s about.” She stole a glance at Aidan setting to work in the distance. “And it’s not dashing rogues who don’t care a nit whether or not we’re alive.”
Digging a handful of oats from her pocket, she lured Athena back inside the gate. “I’m just a tutor, and we best remember that. Aidan only helps us because he owes a debt. I’m not a pirate bride—just a farmer’s daughter, and a decidedly poor one at that.”
She realized her palm was empty and dusted her hands, seeing the sheep had wandered off again. It happened to be in the direction of Aidan’s fence. Elspeth scurried to follow. “Going to steal a closer look, are you? Naughty lass.”
Aidan continued to work, but he ignored them utterly, and so she let her eyes linger. “Can you fancy that? The man is half naked. I’ll bet you thought you were dreaming the sight. He’s magnificent, like an Adonis.” She butted the sheep with her hip. “You’re a wanton to be staring so. What say you? Has the sun and sweat finally gotten to him? Is that why he’s come only in his plaid?”
Aidan’s head popped up as though summoned, his eyes landing directly on hers.
Cheeks burning, she gave a weak wave, and turned her attention back to the sheep. “Now look how you’ve embarrassed yourself. We need to concentrate—there’s work to be done. Shall we take you to the far hill for a graze?”
She let the other animals out of the paddock, stealing another look at Aidan as she held open the gate. “Losh, but his body is the same color as his arms. You mark me, ladies: this isn’t the first time the man has labored shirtless and bootless. They say he has a brand, but blast if my cursed eyes can make it out.”
She squinted. The sun shimmered on his skin, and there seemed to be an uneven glint of light and shadow. A scar? She couldn’t be sure.
He picked up a stone and hauled it into place.
“Look how he moves, lifting those rocks as though they were nothing.” The last of her flock had exited, and dragging the gate shut, she stepped closer to him. “I’m afraid we need to walk right by him, so mind your manners. None of you make fools of yourselves.” Herding the animals, she peered his way, and he came into focus as she neared.
“Losh,” she whispered, “he’s powerful indeed.” His was a broad expanse of flesh, and though she’d seen through his shirt how strong he was, it was nothing compared to how he appeared without it. He had muscles in places she’d never before seen—at the slope between neck and shoulder, on the backs of his arms. “Like a Greek marble.”
He angled toward them. Catching a glimpse of his chiseled chest, Elspeth cut her eyes away with a gasp. Her eyes went to her flock, and she spotted a few sheep toddling off. She scolded herself as she ran to herd them back into place. She dug her hands into her skirts to tempt the sheep with handfuls of grain. “Please come, girls. I’d sooner eat my bonnet than whistle like a fishwife in front of our pirate hero. So please just follow me, like the docile wee lambs I know you are.”
She shooed them along, adding, “And we must all of us stop spying.”
But she felt Aidan’s presence. He was like a grand ship on the horizon, inevitably drawing her gaze once more. He was settling a particularly large stone into place. As he braced it against his thighs, the rock snagged the wool of his breacan feile, hiking it up to reveal a glimpse of carved thigh.
“Oh!” She glanced away, then back, then away again, her cheeks burning with awareness. But she spotted more of her beasts making a break for it, and her exclamations grew more heated. “Oh, pish!”
She jogged to catch them, circling them back into place. “Stay put, you,” she said, digging in her pockets, and was surrounded at once by dull eyes and butting heads. “Crud.
I’m afraid that’s it for the oats. We must all stay where we belong.” She sighed, knowing her place. It was alone, with only a flock of dull-eyed sheep for company. “All of us.”
Reaching the base of the hill, Elspeth did a quick head count and frowned. She was off by one. And so she counted again. “Nineteen. Fool chit of a fool lovesick girl,” she grumbled to herself. “Who’s missing?”
As the sheep began to graze, she scanned them. A runty, wee thing with a jet-black face and white patch at the forehead was notably absent. “Wee Athena has given us the slip.”
Her eyes went from the sheep, all busily eating, to Aidan, hard at work in the middle of the valley. “What say you, girls? Do you think our mysterious hero has seen her?” Standing tall, she beat the dust from her skirts. “No time like the present to ask. And none of you budge,” she ordered, though amid ankle-high grass, she knew none would.
She walked toward him, imagining confidence, practicing in her head what she might say, but she frowned at the results. Do you know where my sheep is? Has a sheep wandered by? It all sounded ridiculous.
“Have you seen my sheep?”
He threw the heavy rock from his hands as though it weighed nothing. “Forget the sheep.”
Stepping close, he wrapped his hand about her neck for a deep kiss. He smelled of earth and sweat.
Breathless, she parted from him. “What sheep?”
Elspeth clenched her fists, forcing herself not to clap a hand to her mouth. She saw Aidan clearly now, as well as the thick scars that crisscrossed his back, gruesome testament to whippings past.
She hovered behind him, waiting in silence, but he didn’t look up from his work. No longer able to bear the sight of his back, she finally blurted, “Have you a sheep?”
He turned to face her, his expression flat. “No, luvvie. But haven’t you twenty already?”
She cringed. “I mean … have you seen my sheep?”
“Aye, and I’ve smelled them too.” He bent, returning to his work.
“No … that is to say … one went missing. Have you seen her?”
He gave a brusque shake to his head, this time not even sparing her a glance.
Elspeth’s gaze lingered on him a moment more. Shirtless and gleaming with sweat, the man truly did look a pirate from the seven seas. Or a boxer. Or a gladiator. She imagined him conquering a bloodthirsty lion with naught but a splintered pike, the wind ruffling his hair. Of course such a man wouldn’t spare a glance for a woman like her. “Oh, then,” she said to that scarred back, “well … thank you.”
She was a fool and a ninny.
She smoothed her skirts, wishing it were as easy to smooth her pride. Looking down, she noticed a bit of sheep muck smeared along her hip. She frowned. What a plain homely-dowdy she was, in last year’s frock of threadbare tan linen, speckled with the ghosts of stains too stubborn to wash out.
She trudged back to the flock, deep in her despairing thoughts. If only Aidan could see the true Elspeth. If only he could see into her heart, he’d realize what a passionate and deeply feeling soul she was.
Driving the dull-witted beasts back into the paddock gave her too much time to think. If only she could have more in life. Not more money—though she could certainly do with some of that—but more of things like love, or adventure. It was why her books called to her. They transported her to a life greater than her own.
But when she put her books down, she was always reminded of her real and dreadfully boring life. Sometimes she wished she were as dim-witted as her livestock, and maybe then her days might be easier to tolerate.
She thought of Aidan’s world, so mysterious and dangerous and tragic. How he’d managed to escape indentured servitude was surely something worthy of epic poetry.
If only he could see that she too would never shy from adventure. Never would she turn from his pain. She’d trace her fingers along his scars, and ease his haunted memories.
They could sail the seven seas together, avenging his stolen youth. She’d wear loose trousers and a scarf tied about her head. There’d be thick ropes of gold looped around her neck, to match the hoops in her ears.
But she was no pirate bride. Instead she was a supposed sheep farmer, and doing quite the mediocre job at that. And Elspeth knew for a fact that poets weren’t exactly inclined to sing the virtues of shepherdesses in their romantic sonnets.
She shooed the last of her flock back into the paddock and then turned a circle, scanning the surrounding hills, but it was no good. Athena was long gone.
They couldn’t afford to lose a single one of those blasted animals. Her eyes snagged on the old dule tree at the top of the hill. She’d climbed it a thousand times and would just have to climb it once more. It afforded a panoramic view of the glen, and if she couldn’t spot Athena from that vantage, then Athena wasn’t to be spotted.
Dules were good for hanging, and apparently this particular one had seen its share. It was ancient and gnarled, and folk had called it the hanging tree for as long as she could remember. Though she’d never been allowed to witness, Elspeth knew for a fact it’d served as a Covenanter gallows in her own lifetime.