I am to ye or how much I admire ye.”
He spun on his heels. “Admire me?” he exclaimed. “Admire me? ” He shook his head and turned away. “There is nothin’ about me to admire, lass. Ye do nae ken the first thing about me. If ye did, ye would be appalled, nae lookin’ fondly at me.”
Unable to resist the burning question, she asked, “Why would ye say such a thing?”
“’Tis none of yer bloody business,” he told her angrily. “Trust me when I say ye would nae like the answers.”
There was something hidden just under his anger; she could feel it to her bones. Deciding mayhap that now was not the time to delve into his past or ask him why he hurt so much, she changed the topic. “Ye should bathe and eat before we leave,” she told him as she began to walk back to their makeshift camp.
* * *
H e caught the scent of lilacs again when she walked past him. Tamping down the desire to take her in his arms, he kept a good distance as he followed her back to their camp, then watched as she began to light another fire. If she only knew the truth , he mused, she’d be runnin’ for the hills. ‘Twould help matters a great deal if she were not so beautiful nor kind.
“Why did ye take me away from Inverness?” he asked, his tone softening, the anger slowly subsiding.
Briefly, her hand paused in midair before she tossed a handful of sticks into the flames. “Ye made me a promise.”
“A promise?” he asked, cocking his head to one side as he crossed his arms over his chest.
Keeping her focus on building the fire, she gave a curt nod. “Aye,” she said, “and I ken ye do nae remember it.”
His shoulders sagged with guilt. “I be sorry, lass, but I was so bloody drunk I can nae remember a thing from yesterday.”
Silence filled the air betwixt them. “Tell me, what promise did I give?”
Another long interval of silence passed before she answered. “Ye promised to take me to Castle Allistair.”
He searched his mind for the smallest recollection but came up empty-handed. Aye, he’d been so drunk yesterday, he could have promised to take her to the moon and ‘twould not have surprised him. Unable to fault her for his own behavior, he came and sat next to the fire. “Why are ye goin’ there?”
Grabbing the small bundle of cloth that held dried beef, she took a long time to answer. “Me mother passed away a year ago,” she told him.
“I be sorry fer your loss,” he replied sadly. Ronna Coultier may have been a whore, but she was still Rianna’s mother. That fact alone afforded her some measure of respect. “But that does not explain why you are going to Allistair.”
“Because that is where my father resides,” she said, looking him directly in the eye.
Astounded, he laughed. “Yer father?”
“Aye, my father.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “Now, the last I remember,” he said as he leaned back onto his elbows, “yer father was some king from the east, was he nae?”
She did not appreciate his attempt at humor. Angrily, she tossed him the bundle of dried beef, which landed in his lap.
“No, wait! That is nae true. He was a duke, from southern England. Or was he an earl from Ireland?” In the short months he’d known her as a child, her mother had told many tales about who Rianna’s real father was. Each one was more unbelievable than the last.
She pursed her lips into a hard line as her bright green eyes grew dark. “On her deathbed she finally confessed my father’s true identity.”
“On her death bed, ye say?” he asked incredulously. “Well, then it must be the truth!”
“Of course it is, ye daft fool!” she spat at him. “Everyone kens a person does nae lie when they ken they are about to die.”
Aiden snorted derisively. “And how many people have ye watched die, lass?”
lilacs
* * *
“ I t matters nae . The fact remains she finally told me the truth,” she replied angrily. Aye, ’twas true her mother had lied to her countless times
He spun on his heels. “Admire me?” he exclaimed. “Admire me? ” He shook his head and turned away. “There is nothin’ about me to admire, lass. Ye do nae ken the first thing about me. If ye did, ye would be appalled, nae lookin’ fondly at me.”
Unable to resist the burning question, she asked, “Why would ye say such a thing?”
“’Tis none of yer bloody business,” he told her angrily. “Trust me when I say ye would nae like the answers.”
There was something hidden just under his anger; she could feel it to her bones. Deciding mayhap that now was not the time to delve into his past or ask him why he hurt so much, she changed the topic. “Ye should bathe and eat before we leave,” she told him as she began to walk back to their makeshift camp.
* * *
H e caught the scent of lilacs again when she walked past him. Tamping down the desire to take her in his arms, he kept a good distance as he followed her back to their camp, then watched as she began to light another fire. If she only knew the truth , he mused, she’d be runnin’ for the hills. ‘Twould help matters a great deal if she were not so beautiful nor kind.
“Why did ye take me away from Inverness?” he asked, his tone softening, the anger slowly subsiding.
Briefly, her hand paused in midair before she tossed a handful of sticks into the flames. “Ye made me a promise.”
“A promise?” he asked, cocking his head to one side as he crossed his arms over his chest.
Keeping her focus on building the fire, she gave a curt nod. “Aye,” she said, “and I ken ye do nae remember it.”
His shoulders sagged with guilt. “I be sorry, lass, but I was so bloody drunk I can nae remember a thing from yesterday.”
Silence filled the air betwixt them. “Tell me, what promise did I give?”
Another long interval of silence passed before she answered. “Ye promised to take me to Castle Allistair.”
He searched his mind for the smallest recollection but came up empty-handed. Aye, he’d been so drunk yesterday, he could have promised to take her to the moon and ‘twould not have surprised him. Unable to fault her for his own behavior, he came and sat next to the fire. “Why are ye goin’ there?”
Grabbing the small bundle of cloth that held dried beef, she took a long time to answer. “Me mother passed away a year ago,” she told him.
“I be sorry fer your loss,” he replied sadly. Ronna Coultier may have been a whore, but she was still Rianna’s mother. That fact alone afforded her some measure of respect. “But that does not explain why you are going to Allistair.”
“Because that is where my father resides,” she said, looking him directly in the eye.
Astounded, he laughed. “Yer father?”
“Aye, my father.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “Now, the last I remember,” he said as he leaned back onto his elbows, “yer father was some king from the east, was he nae?”
She did not appreciate his attempt at humor. Angrily, she tossed him the bundle of dried beef, which landed in his lap.
“No, wait! That is nae true. He was a duke, from southern England. Or was he an earl from Ireland?” In the short months he’d known her as a child, her mother had told many tales about who Rianna’s real father was. Each one was more unbelievable than the last.
She pursed her lips into a hard line as her bright green eyes grew dark. “On her deathbed she finally confessed my father’s true identity.”
“On her death bed, ye say?” he asked incredulously. “Well, then it must be the truth!”
“Of course it is, ye daft fool!” she spat at him. “Everyone kens a person does nae lie when they ken they are about to die.”
Aiden snorted derisively. “And how many people have ye watched die, lass?”
lilacs
* * *
“ I t matters nae . The fact remains she finally told me the truth,” she replied angrily. Aye, ’twas true her mother had lied to her countless times
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