Capturing The Reluctant Highlander (Lasses 0f The Kinnaird Castle Book 3) Page 11

  Troy’s heart melted at her words. This fiery, passionate woman who lived life in the way she pleased was actually apologizing to him for something he hadn’t even thought about? He wanted to pull her into his arms right then and kiss her senseless.

  He smiled. “Och, lass, I thought nothing of it.” He couldn’t possibly say that his frustrated expression was due to the fact that Dougal would be joining in the swordfight and accompanying him on a walk. So he just accepted her apology.

  At his reply, Ruth brightened, and she stood up happily. “Come, let us decorate the May Pole then, and we shall be completed our duties for the festival. Until we must play dancer and sword fighter on the day. I’m rather enjoying these Highland activities.”

  Troy felt a little of the worry about Dougal sliding away at her excited expression. “Am I tae play the dancer then?”

  Ruth sighed dreamily. “And I could be the sword fighter. ‘Tis not a bad idea.” And she chuckled before handing Troy a few flowers to place on the tree. He took them up the ladder, and from below, Ruth guided him along as he decorated according to her wishes.

  There was no awkwardness between them now for the angers of last evening or the previous nights. There was only a slight tension, a feeling that something else was there, yet unacknowledged as they laughed and joked, Ruth berating him for his lack of skills as a decorator, and Troy stating that it was all due to her lack of skills as a communicator.

  Ruth forgot about her father’s arrival and thought only of the man above her on the ladder, who laughed at her and with her, who seemed so different from the man she’d first met or the man who had scoffed at the idea of ladies learning navigation. Today, he seemed to be just Troy, a man who was increasingly making her heart flutter in her chest and turning her mind to other things besides adventure.

  Chapter Thirteen

  They stood back admiring the tree, their finished work before them. The tree was dressed up in beautiful linen ribbons and lovely wildflowers, with long streaming white ribbons coming down from its trunk for the dancers to hold on to. The men from the castle had shorn the low branches of the tree, so that the trunk was tall, like a pole, and that had made it easy to tie the long ribbons to it.

  “Not bad, for a minister.” Ruth said with a smile although she stared straight ahead.

  Troy crossed his arms. “I am a man of many skills, lass, although ye refuse tae believe them. Ye’ve seen them yerself in many ways.”

  Ruth looked over, feeling a tingle of heat as he spoke his last words. She nodded wordlessly. “Yes, I daresay I have.”

  After a pause she replied, “But I would not want you to get cocky about such things. Pride on a minister does not suit.”

  Ruth seemed to have lost the fire in her words when saying ‘minister’, but even now, Troy tired of it. Perhaps he was not meant to be a minister after all, and his heart began to long for the life Dougal described, the life he had once known. But this time, he wanted a brown-eyed, bewitching maiden to be a part of it.

  He turned to Ruth and turned her to face him. He moved close and began softly, “Ruth, I…” He could see her pulse quicken at the base of her throat, and her eyes were open wide, the pupils. widening, taking him in. He wanted nothing more than to tell her all of the thoughts about her and him that had mixed and swirled, but they would sound nonsensical. At the moment, there was nothing clear he could say to her. All he knew was that he wanted to be near her, to kiss her again, and he kept seeing an image of her in front of him, laughing, on a ship’s deck.

  It was all so ridiculous. Would she even want to hear it? Ruth replied. “Yes?”

  Troy had not spoken for a long time. Ruth was concerned, since he looked almost pained by what he was about to say. But, Ruth felt the warmth between them, and she wished more than anything that he would kiss her. She would not, could not, be the first to kiss him again, even though she felt fire running through her veins, and with every pulse, it screamed for her to do so.

  Troy opened his mouth to speak again and was interrupted by William and Jamie, coming along, swinging their swords. “Well, well, well, have we interrupted a quiet tryst, Jamie?” William asked, sneering.

  Ruth and Troy pulled apart, and the two men chuckled. “I believe we may have, lad. Dinnae let us disturb ye, wild girl and minister.” Jamie bowed. “But, we thought Mr. Ferguson may like a bit of practice for the morrow before he has tae fall again tae the ground.”

  Troy reddened slightly, and Ruth put her hands on her hips, glaring at William and Jamie. She motioned to the tree. “Does this look like what two people accomplish on a tryst? Surely, in a tryst, they have better things to attend to.”

  William and Jamie laughed, and William came to place a hand on Ruth’s shoulder. “My wild sister. She has quite a wit to her. Come, lass. Come and watch the men at work with their swords.” He winked over at Troy.

  Troy couldn’t help but smile at William’s innuendo. William always made people smile. Ruth put her hands up and moved away. “Nae, for I have better things to do myself.” She gathered up her things and walked on, holding her head high. William laughed after her, and Troy, although disappointed at the interruption, sighed with slight relief, since he still didn’t know what he wanted to say to her.

  “Come, lad. Let’s see if ye can beat us now after such a romantic moment. Ye may have gone all soft.”

  “Soft? I dinnae think so.” William chuckled. “Men cannae get so close tae a woman they love without getting a bit hard.”

  Jamie and William laughed together at their ribald jokes, and Troy replied, “Joke now, but it shall be ye two on the ground this time.”

  They held up their arms. “We shall see, lad. We shall see. And the new Dougal character should prove a good fighter, I hope.”

  Troy remembered Dougal’s arrival. He knew he had to beat everyone then. Perhaps Dougal’s defeat in the sword fight would scare him off, and he would leave Troy in peace. He took the proffered sword from William and swung it in his arms, ready for Dougal whenever he arrived.

  * * *

  Ruth hurried away. She rolled her eyes and sighed at William. She knew what he was trying to do, and although it was very much something William was wont to do, it frustrated her. They interrupted what Troy was about to say. What were his words going to be? Now she would go crazy thinking about what it was he was going to say to her in that soft, soothing voice of his, his green eyes looking down at her, his handsome face pained with the words.

  She huffed and gathered up her skirts, so that she could run towards home. “Men!” she cried out. “They drive you to insanity!” She chuckled as she realized this could apply to Troy, William, and her own father, although that last figure sobered her.

  As she walked along, busy in her own thoughts, she didn’t see Dougal approaching. He waved and called out. “Ahoy!” She looked up and waved back. He looked very handsome today, but if she was being honest with herself, he did not make her heart flutter and her abdomen tingle.

  “Hello, Miss Ruth. How do ye fare this morning?”

  “I am well, thank you. And you?”

  “Aye, I’m always fine. Stout and steady I am. I am off tae practice for the sword competition with the three gentlemen.” He smiled. “Care tae watch us fight tae the death?”

  She smiled in return. “Although that does sound intriguing, I’m afraid I have flower bouquets to wrap and place on the doorsteps of the village before the bonfire this evening.”

  He nodded, “Aye, o’ course. Yer turning intae a true Scotswoman, are ye not?”

  She shrugged. “As a city woman, it’s all very fascinating to me. I want to make sure everything is perfect.”

  “Oh, I wanted tae thank ye again for yer generosity last eve. Had a lovely time. Thank yer sister for me.”

  “I shall.” She bowed in acceptance. “How did you find your conversation with the minister? ‘Twas helpful, I hope.” Dougal saw her concerned face. This lass was as innocent as a sunrise.

  �
��Aye, all is well. He’s an interesting lad. What do ye think of him?”

  Ruth was taken aback by the question. What did she think of Troy? That answer seemed to be forever changing. She found herself opening and closing her mouth, ready to begin a sentence, but finding she couldn’t find the words.

  Dougal laughed. “That seems tae be a complicated question for ye, lass! But, I will tell ye something ye may find interesting.”

  Ruth collected herself and was intrigued by Dougal’s idea. “What is it?”

  “Ye’ll have tae wait until the bonfire tonight. That is, if ye’ll let me sit near ye.” Ruth flushed at such forwardness. Yesterday, she would have whole-heartedly agreed, but today, something was different.

  “You are a brutish storyteller, Mr. Menzies, hanging out the end of a tale before me like a carrot on a stick.” He chuckled. She continued. “I shall definitely require an explanation tonight, and yes, you may sit near me, although I’m afraid I will be moving quite often, as I helped to organize the celebrations.”

  He nodded. “O’ course, lass. Say no more. I shall be the one tae find ye tonight.”

  She nodded in reply. “See you then. Best of luck with your sword!”

  “Should be easy. A seasoned sailor against two clansmen and a minister? No problem at all!”

  Ruth waved. She enjoyed a man with easy confidence and wit, but she wasn’t so certain about his victory.

  * * *

  Jamie spoke to the clan with a loud voice. “All right, ye lads, we shall pair up tae practice our sword skills. Switch partners if ye like. Tomorrow, we will compete in pairs until there is only one man left. And may the best bloody blaigeard win!”

  A cheer went up from the crowd of men, all shirtless, many of them with long hair and beards, red, brown, and ruddy, the full range of Highland men all in one place. One man called out, “And ye, laird? What if a man beats ye tae the ground?”

  Jamie looked stern. “Well then, I’ll have tae become a lonely bedfellow, willnae I?” The crowd laughed, and William joined in.

  “Aye! She’ll be in search of a new laird, I expect!” A new wave of laughter erupted from the men, and Jamie couldn’t help smirking at the joke.

  “Now, come! Get tae yer practice!”

  The men formed pairs, and Jamie and William paired up. Troy stood to the side, searching out his partner, but he knew who it would be. He spied Dougal approaching the fighting grounds, and his every muscle clenched as he watched the smug smile on Dougal’s face.

  Once they had been friends, nearly brothers, their goals and dreams aligned. But now, it was battle. And Troy knew he did not want Ruth to see him fall to Dougal, who he knew was vying for her heart for his own nefarious purposes.

  Dougal came up to Troy. “Well, lad, I suppose yer my fighting partner.”

  Troy nodded sharply. “Aye. But are ye not afraid of yer old pal? We’ve never crossed blades before, but ye’ve seen my skills in battle more than once.”

  Dougal removed his shirt, and Troy was reminded of their battles as he spied the long scar running down from Dougal’s shoulder to his upper chest. Dougal followed his gaze. “Do ye remember it, lad?” He whispered, but Troy still looked nervously around him, hoping none of the other men, especially Jamie and William, had heard him.

  “Nae?” Dougal continued. “Let me remind ye.” He began to assume his fighting stance, with his sword pointed towards Troy. Troy followed, swallowing back his nerves and the anger that seemed to twinge and boil at his throat. He would not be bested by Dougal. The air was filled with the clanging of swords and the grunting of men as they heaved their strong bodies into action, hoping to turn out to be the victor against their opponent.

  Dougal hit Troy’s sword. Lightly, but then he moved to make another swing. “‘Twas the night we battled the redcoats in the rain aboard their ship.” Troy dodged Dougal’s swing, and his stomach fell at the memory of that night. “I remember the battle was fierce. We couldnae bloody see,” Dougal continued, despite both of their heavy breathing at the onset of their fight. His teeth were bared at his old friend who had now become a foe. “We thought we may lose tae those bloody bastards.” He took a heavy swing towards Troy, who dodged again. “But in the end, we were victorious. We cheered aboard the ship as proud men. Men who had fought against the thieves of our land whose blood deserved tae be spilled.”

  Troy thought briefly about Ruth. Those were Ruth’s people. Could he really have done such a thing, and could he still think the same now?

  “And yet, when we searched for our captain tae celebrate our victory, he was nowhere tae be found.” With those last words, Dougal grunted and hit Troy’s sword as hard as he could. It clanged loudly, and Troy felt the vibrations deep in his arm muscles as he clung tightly to his blade. He saw in Dougal’s eyes something much more than anger. He had been hurt by Troy. Betrayed. Dougal was right to feel so, for it had been a betrayal, but Ruth did not deserve to get mixed up in this. And Troy could never return to who he once was. He was a changed man.

  At one point, Troy swung, and he pulled Dougal close to him, their blades crossed in front of each other. He whispered to Dougal. “Aye. I remember. I left. ‘Twas a betrayal, tae be sure, but ‘twas not the kind ye seem tae feel so deeply that it fills ye with bloody revenge.”

  He pushed Dougal away, and Dougal fell to the ground. He gave Troy an angry look. Troy knew the look well. It meant Dougal would not forgive him, and Troy would have no hope but to fight his former friend. Troy raised up his sword, but then Jamie was calling out to end the fights.

  “All right, lads! The sun willnae be too long in the sky. Go home tae yer wives and children. Ye’ll be bleeding and sweating enough tomorrow.”

  There was a collective sigh from the men as they relaxed, dropped their swords, and wiped the sweat from their brows and bodies. How long had they been fighting? It had seemed only a few moments, but when Troy looked up at the sky, he saw that Jamie was right. The sun would not be showing itself above the mountains for much longer. He gave one more look to Dougal, whose silent anger could be felt in Troy’s bones. He leaned down to pick up his shirt to wipe his face. Dougal stood and did the same.

  “Dinnae be playing the good, kind minister with me, Ferguson. Ye’ll get yer comeuppance sure enough. Remember, after May Day tomorrow, ye’ll need tae tell me yer answer.”

  For these last words, Dougal had stepped forward to whisper them gruffly in Troy’s ear. Troy grimaced as he felt the warmth and sweat from Dougal’s body. After he spoke, Dougal pushed Troy’s shoulder back firmly, and Troy staggered back. Dougal then walked away.

  William came up, and said, “Och, what’s with the lad? Cannae take a defeat?”

  Troy tried to smile. “Aye, I suppose not.” He attempted to put on an easy confident air, while inside, his mind was racing for solutions.

  “Good night, lad,” William said to him. “Sleep well, for I know who yer dreams are filled of.”

  Jamie rolled his eyes at William’s joke and scowled as William laughed at his back. William was all too right.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The bonfire burned brightly on the hill closest to the castle that looked down on the full breadth of Kinnaird land, its forest, its village, its laird’s home, and the sea. Ruth looked on the overall spectacle with astonishment. The moon was high and full as it shone its pearly light down across the sea and upon the happy faces in the crowd.

  Everyone was laughing or smiling, dressed festively, yet warmly, for the chill of the winter had still not quite left. One of the maids had told Ruth that those who dress with extra layers are the ones who plan to have trysts in the shadows far away from the fire. Ruth had laughed at such an idea. How wonderfully wild of them. But now, as she spied Troy across the fire, speaking to Robyn, the idea of a tryst was not far from her mind.

  They had gone to the church service before the merry blaze, where Troy had spoken of bounty and gratitude and said a prayer over the land and the people working it. Ruth had
watched in a daze; his kind face, soothing voice, and sensual smile looking down at his congregation. Over and over in her mind she kept saying, What were you going to say to me? Out by the May Pole? What are you hiding and why?

  They had all marched to the hill as a congregation, singing songs, and some people began dancing as they went. They’d built up the fire high and strong, and some of the older women of the village whispered incantations, placing a blessing on the bounty of the land in the next year.

  It was all so wonderful. Jamie and Amelia were given chairs to sit upon, which they hardly did. Casks of wine were passed, and glasses were filled. Ruth was touched by the joviality and hope of this clan. This clan who loved their laird for what he had done for them. He had transformed the land and saved their homes and livelihoods. While other clans had broken, the men and their families traveling to coastal towns or new countries, Jamie had preserved an ancient, Highland way of existence.