Unwilling (Highland Historical #2)

at ease.  In the white light of morning,
his strong, tanned face took on a boyish cast as he quirked a mischievous smile
at her.
    Suddenly she couldn’t catch her
breath. 
    “What kind of occupation?” Evelyn
queried, her eyes narrowing on the both of them.
    “A rigorous study in conquest, you
could say,” Connor answered, his hot gaze never breaking from Lindsay’s.
    Lindsay bit back a discomfited
smile.  “I’ve become quite fond of your library, sir.”  Popping a grape in her
mouth, she rolled it about with her tongue before biting down.  “So far, I’ve
found it quite gratifying.”
    Connor’s hand fisted.  “I should
show you the old Rectory, I can promise a religious experience.”
    Roderick made a choking sound
around a mouthful of smoked fish. 
    “Just promise me that nothing
happened to my chaise.”  Evelyn managed to look horrified and pleased at the
same time.  “I imported that from the continent!  I won’t even let Roderick
have me on it.” 
    Roderick swallowed, smirked, then
said, “Ye would if I tried.”
    Evelyn swatted him.
    “Actually,” Connor addressed his
brother.  “It was your magnifying glass that didn’t survive the night.”
    The younger berserker’s brows drew
together.  “What… were you doing with my magnifying glass?”
    “Nothing, it just got in the way,”
Connor shrugged.
    Lindsay hid her abashed smile
behind her hand.  How could this family discuss such things at the breakfast
table of all places?  She took some responsibility for her banter with Connor,
but here they were, easy as you please, reporting the casualties of their
new-found passion. 
    She’d never been so mortified in
her life.  But neither had she never been happier.  Nothing could ruin such a perfect
moment.
    “My Laird, I have a missive from
the MacKay.”  Jamie Dougal, Connor’s man-at-arms unceremoniously strode across
the solarium.  A solemn expression sobered his animated face.  “Angus is
calling for your blood and demanding his bride.”
     

Chapter
Fourteen
     
    Two days, eight hours, and twenty
seven excruciating minutes.  Lindsay calculated the time since Connor had
strapped his sword to his waist, his double-bladed axe to his back, and kissed
her good-bye at the gates of the stables. 
    “I have things to say to ye,
Lindsay, but I doona want them punctuated in the blood of your betrothed.”  His
gaze had been intense, meaningful .
    She’d fingered his scorched black
leather armor, unwilling to let him out of her sight.  “Will you not take
Roderick with you?”
    He shook his head, “Angus wanted me
to bring Roderick, which makes me worry that he’s planning violence against
castle Lachlan.  I canna leave ye unguarded, ye’ve become too… precious to
me.” 
    He hadn’t looked at her as he’d
said the words and Lindsay understood that such declarations were alien to him. 
    “Roderick would lay down his life
for my mate as well as his own; ye’ll be safe with him.”
    Heart full, Lindsay hadn’t been
able to say the rush of words bubbling up her throat either, for fear she’d beg
him to stay with her.  He couldn’t do that.  He wouldn’t put the people of
Straithlachlan and the surrounding clans under his protection in danger on her
behalf.  And it would stain her soul to ask it of him.
    He’d meet Angus on MacKay lands,
and there her vile betrothed and his remaining band of pillagers would meet
their deaths at the hands of his berserker.
    She grasped his neck, pulling his
head down to meet his lips with her own.  Throwing her maelstrom of emotion
into the kiss, she pressed her full body against the hard leather of his armor
and he crushed her to him in an almost painful grip.  Yes, their bodies did
seem to be able to convey what their words could not. 
    “When will you return?” she’d asked
breathlessly when they broke apart. 
    “I’ll revisit your bed in two
night’s time.” he promised, before mounting Colm and galloping south, toward
MacKay lands. 
    ***
    Lindsay kept herself busy in the apothecary
with Evelyn, or out in the market with Roderick.  She enjoyed an easy rapport
with Connor’s younger brother, appreciating his quick wit and easy smile. 
Though evening meals with the three of them were full of lively conversation,
an undercurrent of tension laced through every moment their Laird was absent. 
Lindsay tried to fill it by slaking her curiosity about their kind. 
    “Do you and Connor ever