Capturing The Reluctant Highlander (Lasses 0f The Kinnaird Castle Book 3) Read online

  She was well-spoken and completely cutting, each of her words dripping with disdain. He had never been spoken to by a woman. He, having once been the most fearsome pirate Captain upon the European seas, had just been rightly scolded like a little boy into his place. After the shock and slight embarrassment passed, a smile spread across his face. A woman who would fight for what she believed against someone, especially a man, especially the minister, is someone he could rightly respect. She had been right to be angry, but she had not listened to his excuse. Yes, this woman was trouble, because as he watched her body tense with anger and listened to her words exit her mouth expertly and with focused intention, he couldn’t help but feel a frisson of desire that made his cock harden once more. He had not felt such a strong desire for a woman in a long, long time. He wanted her, and that, he knew, could only lead to trouble.

  But now, she would most likely ignore him as much as possible as they worked together. That was for the best. Because with this realization, he would have to work even harder to avoid being alone too much with her and avoid these feelings he was developing for her. Now, with her anger, he could use it as a way to finish the preparations and then begin to avoid her again. It would have been a lot more difficult had she begun working with him with that eager look she’d been giving him since they’d met. He knew that she wanted to be around him, and that’s why he had tried not to talk to her as best he could. It was a little difficult since he, William, and Jamie had taken to spending quite a bit of time together.

  He sat down, smiling. What a little minx she was: fiery, passionate, and fascinating. Everything he had always desired in a woman. He loathed the demure, passionless, vapid interests of the women in the parish. None of them possessed one jot of the fire that Ruth had. That’s why she had gripped him so strongly in her moment of anger.

  He suddenly had a devilish thought. He should apologize to her, but what if he continued to play the rakish, rude man she assumed that he truly was? He could play the man he used to be, a carousing man who could charm any woman in his path if he so desired. He hardly remembered that man, but he knew he existed.

  Perhaps then, if he did so, she would lose her interest in him entirely once her anger cooled, and he could go back to his plan of being a boring, small-town minister with naught to think about but his congregation, making amends, and a woman with fire in her eyes.

  He sighed. He would have to plan this out well if it was going to work.

  * * *

  Ruth huffed and muttered to herself as she rushed away. She hoped he wouldn’t follow her and attempt to apologize to her again. She was not interested. The veil was finally pulled from her eyes, and she got to see him for what he truly was. She was grateful that it occurred before she felt any real feelings towards him. He was just like her father. Women were useless creatures, only intended for one purpose, and one purpose alone: to serve men. They had naught else to provide to society and should not waste their time filling their weak brains with anything substantial.

  She roared with anger. But, there was a tinge of pain in her fury. Troy Ferguson, who was so kind, so compassionate, and so utterly handsome, had turned into a brutish rake. She supposed she should not have been surprised, but it was so disheartening to learn that he felt this way. But no, no, she would not despair! That is just what a man would want a woman to do: feel helpless and weak, their feelings controlled by the man’s actions. She would simply continue on with her plan to get through the May Day festival and then find a way to begin her new life somewhere far away.

  This was a good thing. He was now out of the way, and she would not even have to spend one more second thinking or dreaming about him. The image flashed to her mind of him on top of her in the meadow, looking down at her, apology in his eyes, but also a heat she hadn’t noticed before. It had felt so wrong to be so close to a man, but she had not felt afraid or guilty. She had simply felt a warmth deep in her abdomen that made her want to pull him closer.

  Ruth threw up her arms at her own weakness. “Ruth! Get your mind together. You are strong, capable, and do not need anyone else! Do not fall for such a weakness as desire for a foolish, devilish man!”

  She nodded her head along with her words, hoping to strengthen their effect as she walked onwards. She would have to go home, but that was the last place she wanted to go since Marianne would want to discuss last night, and the fact that Troy would be working with her. What would she say to Marianne now? Something that would disappoint her sister, she was sure.

  * * *

  Marianne sat in the main room, reading a book and sipping tea. She treasured the moments she had alone while William was away working on the clan land and Ruth was off on one of her excursions. She could take a break from feeling guilty about Ruth and from discussing it with William. She could just be herself: Marianne Browne, recently escaped from her restrictive father, recently married to the love of her life, and about to have a baby. It was everything she had ever dreamed of. She was free to do as she pleased. William loved her with a passion that still made her blush even though it had been months since their first encounter. She was happy. She was so incredibly happy, except for Ruth’s unhappiness. But there was a glimmer of hope. Ruth had seemed so happy last night at the idea of Troy working with her, and Amelia had inspired her to work her matchmaking magic on the pair.

  Ruth burst in. She always burst in, but today she was fiery with anger. Marianne looked up from her book. “Ruth? What has happened? Why the furious entrance?” She smiled, hoping to kindle the old sisterly joking that they had always enjoyed together.

  Ruth huffed and sat down at the table with her. Marianne began to pour her a cup of tea. Ruth began, “‘Tis only men and their frustratingly similar ideology. Here I thought that there was one man who could understand an independent woman,” she paused, “but I was wrong. Troy Ferguson is just as bad as the rest of them, excepting William and Jamie, of course. Women cannot read to improve their minds or work to fight against their restrictions.” She laid back and crossed her one arm over the slung one, the full cup of tea steaming before her.

  Marianne was puzzled. This did not sound like the Troy she knew at all. She had many theological discussions with him in which he respected and encouraged her opinions. He even sought her out for advice and conversation. “Ruth, are you certain? What has happened to make you change your mind so?”

  Ruth paused. Maybe Marianne would appreciate her candor in this situation. Marianne knew well enough about the frustrations of an overbearing man who didn’t believe in a woman’s abilities.

  “I was out reading in the meadow, as I usually do, and I was reading about navigation.” Marianne nodded. Jamie had told her what Ruth had often been searching for in his library. She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about her sister reading those topics and what it meant, but she knew that her sister should be free to read what she pleased in their new life.

  “Suddenly, Troy arrived and tripped over me! He nearly broke my arm again!” Ruth’s anger had had time to fester in her walk from the meadow. She remembered with annoyance how she had not been so upset when it had originally happened, but now she was looking for anything to blame him for. “The book I had been reading lay open in front of us, and he picked it up. He was so shocked that a woman would be reading such things, and he said as much! I could have murdered him right there with the very book!”

  Ruth exhaled loudly before continuing. “He is meant to be working with me, but I have told him that he will receive no kindness from me any longer, if he is to be as rude and thoughtless as that. And so typically male. He would do well to stay away from me.” Ruth felt a slight sadness at that idea, but she pushed it aside.

  Marianne furrowed her brow. “I am sorry, Ruth. ‘Tis most unusual behavior for Troy. I would not have expected that of him myself. Perhaps you have misunderstood him? Did he have a chance to explain?”

  Ruth grumbled, “I gave him no chance. He needs no chance in order to cover up his true
thoughts and feelings. They are out there now, and it is best I knew it before I began to feel…” Ruth stopped herself. Normally, she would have been happy to disclose to her sister her feelings for a man, but she feared Marianne would only use it as a way to keep her here in Brechin, and that would not do.

  “Feel what?” Marianne asked curiously, her heart filling with hope at what she assumed Ruth meant. If she could admit to feelings of interest for Troy, then maybe her matchmaking would be easier than she thought, and Ruth could abandon all ideas of departure.

  Ruth’s face turned into a mask. It had looked so open and vulnerable, but now, she had shut it off from her sister’s inquiry. “Nothing. It is just good we know how he truly is. Although, I am sorry for it.” Marianne thought she noticed Ruth make a quick swipe of her finger under her eye before standing up. Her heart went out to her, but Ruth was never one to succumb to tears or endure comfort from another.

  Ruth stood, abandoning the teacup. “‘Tis nothing. I believe I will go to rest.”

  Marianne smiled weakly and nodded. “Yes of course. You need it.”

  Then, Ruth rushed off, leaving a bereft Marianne behind her. Marianne bit her lip in concentration. She would need Amelia’s expert help. The matchmaking would now not be so easy with an angry Ruth threatening to be unkind to the very man her sister hoped could become her husband.

  Chapter Five

  The next day, Ruth was back in the village again. She intended to find willing participants to dance around the May Pole for the festival. It was ideal for young ladies and younger female children to perform, crowns of flowers in their hair, wearing beautiful white dresses. She knew a few of the clanswomen who had agreed, but she needed just one more dancer to complete the circle. She kept a small journal with her in order to write down the new name, but she knew it would prove difficult to write with the sling still slowing her down. As she entered the group of brick and stone buildings, thinking about which home she should stop at next, a smiling Troy Ferguson waved at her from across the way.

  Rage boiled in her belly as she watched him, and she practiced what she had told herself in her room last evening. No matter how handsome he is, be cold and distant. Treat him with a haughty air. Do not weaken!

  She repeated these words to herself once again as she watched his tall, strong body approach her as if nothing was wrong, as if he hadn’t only yesterday revealed his inability to believe in the intelligence of women.

  He stood over her, grinning. “Hello, Ruth. Marianne told me ye would be here, and I thought I’d accompany ye on yer duties. I am tae help ye after all.”

  Ruth was taken aback by this new, confident air which lacked any hint of regret. Who was this man grinning almost devilishly at her? She did not like it. He smiled, his eyes soft, yet piercing. He was clean, and his familiar scent was strong today as he stood far too close to her. It nearly made her forget her mantra. She shook her head and coughed.

  “Hello, Mr. Ferguson.” She lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders. “So, you have decided to continue working together? You are a brave man.”

  Troy chuckled, and moved to walk beside her as she began to leave. “Aye. I can be known tae be quite brave, depending on the situation.” He lowered his voice and whispered in her ear. “And quite dangerous too.”

  Ruth turned, surprise evident on her face. She blushed at the intended meaning of his words. He winked back at her shocked expression. Her mouth dropped open, but she quickly recovered. She turned straight forward. “So I see that since I know your feelings about women, you have removed the husk of your minister’s personality and resorted to simply being a rake?”

  Troy smiled inwardly. It was working. He imagined she would lose interest in him entirely in a few weeks, and he would be free to return to his goal. He began to walk backward in front of her as she walked forwards. “Aye. Ye have discovered my secret. Although, ‘tis not quite as ye imagine, but there’s nae point in discussing the details. Ye have made up yer mind anyway.”

  Ruth nodded, and she gripped the journal closer to her chest. “Yes, yes I have. Now, it would just be best if we continue on in our duties without the pretense of friendship.”

  He shrugged. Who was this man? So calm, relaxed, and uncaring of her opinion. It was night and day, the difference between this man and the man who had lain atop her, his eyes full of apology. He began walking next to her again. “Aye, so what is it ye’d like me tae do today for ye?” He paused to bow slightly. Ruth rolled her eyes. “I will not dignify that ridiculous movement with a reaction. I am searching for another young lady to dance at the May Day festival. We have everyone we need, but I think there should be one more, and no one has decided to volunteer. They paused at the village’s well, and Marianne pulled out her journal, to look over the names that had already been selected. She fumbled to open it and hold it with only one arm, and Troy reached out to help her.

  As he grabbed the journal, his fingers touched hers, and she couldn’t help but look up briefly to find him staring at her. Ah, this man was a well-practiced rake. In his gaze, she felt hot and melting, like wax from a warm candle. The feeling slid down her chest and into her loins. She began to breathe a little bit quicker, and she found her eyes traveling to his perfect lips. What might they taste like? She wondered idly.

  Troy then brought her out of her reverie. “Ruth? Would ye like me tae open it for ye?”

  Ruth coughed, and glanced at his eyes again to see them dancing in merriment. He was enjoying this! He was enjoying torturing a woman with his frustrating views and beautiful lips and confident swagger. No, no! She was not like the rest of the women at the church who begged for his attention.

  She responded sarcastically. “Yes, please. How kind of you. Sometimes we women do need a strong man to assist us.” Troy laughed again. In addition to being passionate and interesting, Ruth was funny.

  He held the journal open to the page, so she could scan the names. “Yes, we just need one more I believe. That will fill out the circle nicely.” On the next page were the list of names of those participating in the athletic games: archery, log tossing, and sword fighting. William and Jamie’s names were at the top of the list.

  “That’s fine, thank you.” Ruth said quickly, attempting to pull the journal away from Troy’s grasp.

  Instead, Troy turned the book so that it faced him. “Hmm...I do not see my name on the list for the athletic endeavors.”

  Ruth smirked. “I did not ask you. I did not think a minister would enjoy such things, being cooped up in a church all day.” Ruth attempted to make her voice as sarcastic as possible, hoping it would wound his oddly cocky spirit. She did not mention that his athletic physique had not escaped her eye.

  Troy smiled, thinking about all of the secrets that Ruth did not know. He thought it might be fun to prove her wrong. He grabbed the pencil from her hand and scribbled his name onto the list. “I told ye that ye dinnae know everything. I may surprise ye after all.”

  Ruth snagged the journal and pencil back from him quickly, and he laughed. “Funny that,” she said, “You have such expectations that I must adjust my perceptions of you and your abilities, but you do not possess the same belief that a woman may also surprise.”

  She stood tall, daring him to make an adequate reply, and Troy fumbled for a moment. Why he did believe in women, even though he had been taught about their weaknesses from his father, the bastard man. Did Troy make that evident in the way he treated the women of his acquaintance? He wanted desperately to change Ruth’s opinion of him, but why? Why should he care what she thought when he didn’t want her in his life or in his mind anyway? He didn’t, though his body was betraying him. He would have to fight against it and lead her to believe whatever was necessary to make her leave him alone.

  He continued to adopt his new rakish air. “Do they? Well, if one does so, ye’ll be the first tae know about it.” Then he grinned as he leaned onto the side of the well, rather enjoying the way her face looked as she sto
od in defiance against him. Simpering desperation did not suit her. Rage was a far better look for Ruth Browne.

  Ruth nearly growled at him and flipped around and sped up her walking pace. Troy ran after her and touched her on the arm. “Lass, I have an idea,” he said.

  Ruth hated the way he started calling her ‘lass’ since the endearment in his Scottish brogue sounded like a sweet caress and made goosebumps rise on her flesh. She forced out an angry reply instead. “Not interested!” She continued walking.

  “It’s about the May Day dancers,” he returned teasingly.

  She paused and turned. “What?”

  Was it her or did he step just a little bit closer once she’d turned back to face him? Ruth waited, holding her breath as she watched his face expectantly. “Well, are you going to tell me about it?”