Ghosts of Culloden Moor 13 - Kennedy by LL Muir

Author:LL Muir [Muir, LL]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-12-06T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Gerard worked his way toward the bow of the large boat and dragged his companion along behind.

Companion. And a female companion at that.

Now that he was holding her hand again, flesh to flesh at it were, he was back to experiencing those strange emotions. They’d been so overpowering on the road, he’d stuffed his hands into his pockets on the pretense of keeping them warm. But in truth, he’d needed to step away from the strange spell cast over him by the feel of her.

Like a hungry man who’d over-fed himself at a grand feast, he’d needed time to let his innards settle. When they reached Kessock, however, he’d been struck by an urgent need to keep the lass close so she didn’t slip away from him.

A damned nuisance, that. After all, it was he who planned to slip away from her once they reached Jean-Yves’ home. And if he they did much more touching, he would have a difficult time walking away.

There was no question—he would rejoin the prince’s forces wherever they were gathering. The only uncertainty was how painful it might be to leave the lass behind.

He supposed, when it was over—perhaps in the fall—he would go to Dingwall and see if she’d told the truth. Or perhaps he would search near Culloden. But he didn’t waste time denying that he would, indeed, look for her again.

When he found her, though, would she forgive him?

She was a stubborn lass to be sure. And weren’t stubborn lasses more likely to hold their grudges with tight fists?

Perhaps I need to plant a few seeds of forgiveness in her mind now…

They faced the specter of Inverness looming beyond the fog. Jammed tightly between other travelers, their shoulders pressed together, it was an easy thing to turn and force her to face him.

“Assa.”

Her brows puckered for a heartbeat, then smoothed, as if she hadn’t recognized her name. “Yes?”

“Ye were quick to forgive me…back on the road.”

She frowned again. “Forgive ye?”

“Aye.” And before she had time to guess what he was about, he lowered his head to hers and nudged her chin up with a gentle touch. If she was surprised by his kiss, he couldn’t tell, for his own eyes closed in anticipation of another sweet embrace. “Lovely,” he whispered against her lips and pressed in again. A gentle touch of her hand on his chest was half-hearted at best—more like she leaned into him for support. But when she did push away in earnest, he stepped back.

“Forgive me?”

She pulled a deep breath into her lungs and finally smiled. “What, again?”

He laughed at her teasing. “Aye, again.”

She forced a frown and failed to appear stern, but he played along.

“I think it would be foolish of me to forgive ye so quickly this time. I wouldn’t want ye spoilt.”

Just as long as ye want me, he said in his mind. Aloud, he said, “Very well. Hold onto yer forgiveness until I ask for it again, aye?”

She laughed. “Like a pebble in my pocket?”

“Aye.

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