had been quiet long enough to try
her curiosity.
“That
he is verra weel built. The wenches put it a wee bit less delicately. Called
him quite the stallion.”
“Oh.”
Aimil frowned. “Do ye mean that he could hurt me? I mean hurt me simply by
doing what is natural?”
“Nay,
lass. If what ye said is true, that he doesnae hold with the abuse of women,
then he will be careful with ye for he will ken that ye are untouched. A
woman’s body can shape itself to fit most any man. ‘Tis not the size of the
horse that matters but the ride it gives.”
“I
think, nay, I truly feel that it willnae be so bad. In truth”—she took a deep
breath to brace herself for her confession—“my body has already taken notice of
his good looks and fine form. To be plain, I desire him greatly. Would it be so
verra bad if I took the pleasure with him that I ken weel Rory Fergueson
willnae give me? Is it wrong to do something to please myself before I must
sacrifice so much to please others?”
“Nay,”
he replied. “Ye deserve some pleasure and I fear ye have the right of it when
ye say Rory will give ye none. I only wish it could be done without shaming ye.
The rules are set firm, and the Black Parlan kens weel that he forces ye to
shame yourself by making this bargain. For that, I will kill the man when I get
the chance.”
Aimil
shivered. She hated the coldness in her brother’s voice. Nevertheless, she
offered no argument. Parlan MacGuin would have dishonored her whether she had
been given a choice or not. She did not see it as dishonor but others would.
Because of that, Leith would feel he was honor bound to make the man pay
dearly. That she chose to go to Parlan made no difference.
Malcolm
entered at that instant after a soft rap upon the door. “The laird wants his
answer now, lass.”
She
sat up slowly. “Does he now? Weel, mayhaps he can wait a bit more. Could give
the big ox some much needed humility.”
“It
isnae wise to make the laird wait,” Malcolm said as he barely restrained a
grin, “nor to try his patience.”
“He
sore tries mine,” she grumbled, rising to don her hose. “I dinnae ken what he
needs me for. Surely a lusty wench with more flesh upon her bones would serve
him better. I think the fool’s great size doesnae extend to his brain.” The
last thing she wished to reveal was how Parlan’s desire for her thrilled her
even as it puzzled her.
Looking
at Leith, Malcolm received only a crooked grin. The girl plainly did not see
how appealing she was to a man. Malcolm wondered if her total lack of vanity
was part of her draw for Parlan. The laird had certainly known his fair share
of vain women.
Answering
Leith’s signal, Malcolm edged closer to the bed while Aimil continued to ready
herself.
“Can
ye nae talk the man out of this? She is a maid of good birth and doesnae
deserve the shame he will bring her.” While Leith sympathized with Aimil’s
reasons, he could not resist trying to stop her, even if obtusely.
“I
tried but ‘tisnae any use. The laird has the heat on him. Aye, I have ne’er
seen it so strong. He will have her before she leaves here. This bargain is
only to make the having come sooner for he feels she wouldnae be verra easy to
seduce though ‘tis a skill he has refined weel.”
“Nay,
she would laugh at sweet words and warm looks. She sees them as foolishness and
falseness.”
“So
they ofttimes are. He willnae hurt her. Even though he sometimes doesnae like
the woman, he treats her gently. He doesnae hold with treating the lasses rough.
Ye ken as weel as I do that many another man would have tossed her down and had
at her before now, hostage for ransom or not. ‘Tis seen as a right, a right won
by capture.”
“Aye,
‘tis true, but I will still kill Parlan for the shame he deals her.”
“Ye
can try. Aye, he kens ye will when ye get all your strength back. It matters
not. As I said, he has the heat upon him.”
Deciding
she had dawdled enough, Aimil moved
her curiosity.
“That
he is verra weel built. The wenches put it a wee bit less delicately. Called
him quite the stallion.”
“Oh.”
Aimil frowned. “Do ye mean that he could hurt me? I mean hurt me simply by
doing what is natural?”
“Nay,
lass. If what ye said is true, that he doesnae hold with the abuse of women,
then he will be careful with ye for he will ken that ye are untouched. A
woman’s body can shape itself to fit most any man. ‘Tis not the size of the
horse that matters but the ride it gives.”
“I
think, nay, I truly feel that it willnae be so bad. In truth”—she took a deep
breath to brace herself for her confession—“my body has already taken notice of
his good looks and fine form. To be plain, I desire him greatly. Would it be so
verra bad if I took the pleasure with him that I ken weel Rory Fergueson
willnae give me? Is it wrong to do something to please myself before I must
sacrifice so much to please others?”
“Nay,”
he replied. “Ye deserve some pleasure and I fear ye have the right of it when
ye say Rory will give ye none. I only wish it could be done without shaming ye.
The rules are set firm, and the Black Parlan kens weel that he forces ye to
shame yourself by making this bargain. For that, I will kill the man when I get
the chance.”
Aimil
shivered. She hated the coldness in her brother’s voice. Nevertheless, she
offered no argument. Parlan MacGuin would have dishonored her whether she had
been given a choice or not. She did not see it as dishonor but others would.
Because of that, Leith would feel he was honor bound to make the man pay
dearly. That she chose to go to Parlan made no difference.
Malcolm
entered at that instant after a soft rap upon the door. “The laird wants his
answer now, lass.”
She
sat up slowly. “Does he now? Weel, mayhaps he can wait a bit more. Could give
the big ox some much needed humility.”
“It
isnae wise to make the laird wait,” Malcolm said as he barely restrained a
grin, “nor to try his patience.”
“He
sore tries mine,” she grumbled, rising to don her hose. “I dinnae ken what he
needs me for. Surely a lusty wench with more flesh upon her bones would serve
him better. I think the fool’s great size doesnae extend to his brain.” The
last thing she wished to reveal was how Parlan’s desire for her thrilled her
even as it puzzled her.
Looking
at Leith, Malcolm received only a crooked grin. The girl plainly did not see
how appealing she was to a man. Malcolm wondered if her total lack of vanity
was part of her draw for Parlan. The laird had certainly known his fair share
of vain women.
Answering
Leith’s signal, Malcolm edged closer to the bed while Aimil continued to ready
herself.
“Can
ye nae talk the man out of this? She is a maid of good birth and doesnae
deserve the shame he will bring her.” While Leith sympathized with Aimil’s
reasons, he could not resist trying to stop her, even if obtusely.
“I
tried but ‘tisnae any use. The laird has the heat on him. Aye, I have ne’er
seen it so strong. He will have her before she leaves here. This bargain is
only to make the having come sooner for he feels she wouldnae be verra easy to
seduce though ‘tis a skill he has refined weel.”
“Nay,
she would laugh at sweet words and warm looks. She sees them as foolishness and
falseness.”
“So
they ofttimes are. He willnae hurt her. Even though he sometimes doesnae like
the woman, he treats her gently. He doesnae hold with treating the lasses rough.
Ye ken as weel as I do that many another man would have tossed her down and had
at her before now, hostage for ransom or not. ‘Tis seen as a right, a right won
by capture.”
“Aye,
‘tis true, but I will still kill Parlan for the shame he deals her.”
“Ye
can try. Aye, he kens ye will when ye get all your strength back. It matters
not. As I said, he has the heat upon him.”
Deciding
she had dawdled enough, Aimil moved
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