Highland Hero by Hannah Howell Read Free Book Online

so bad that ye need to pity me,” she said, starting to tug away from him only to have him hold her a little tighter.
    “Dinnae confuse sympathy with pity, bonnie Edina.” He touched a kiss to her forehead. “I might pity ye if all that had happened had turned ye into some terrified wee lass who cowers when she sees her own shadow, but ye arenae that.”
    “I am afraid of the forest,” she whispered.
    “Most people are, even if only at night. I am eight and twenty and I wouldnae be eager to spend a whole night alone in the forest. Ye were no more than a bairn and, if your lack of size now is any indication, little more than a bite or two for any beastie that might have found ye.” He met her scowl with a brief smile. “Nay, I am but passing sorry that ye had to grow to womanhood among such an uncaring lot. The way your uncle told ye of your mother’s death tells me that he is a cold mon. Ye couldnae have found much comfort there.”
    “He is a good mon, truly,” she said as she eased out of his hold, finding such tender proximity dangerously arousing. “He ne’er beat me and he gave me all that was needed to stay alive. I think he just doesnae ken how to be, weel, happy or kindly. Dinnae forget, he was the one who came searching for me, took me home, and raised me.”
    “True. Mayhap he just didnae ken that there is a wee bit more needed to raise a bairn than food, clothes, and a roof,” he said as he took her by the hand and started to lead her back to the keep. “Mayhap that was all he e’er got, and he was ne’er shown another way.”
    “Ye have decided that I have walked enough, have ye?” she asked, but she made no attempt to break free of his light grip.
    “Aye. The summer fades quickly and there is a bite to the air.”
    “I am stronger than I look. A wee chill in the air willnae cause me to fall ill.”
    “Ye have also not had any food this night.”
    When he passed the door to the great hall and led her up the stairs, she frowned. “Have they cleared the tables, then?”
    “Nay, I have had the cook prepare us something that is just for us.”
    Her suspicion grew in one large bound when he opened the door to his bedchamber. She tensed as he tugged her inside. This was far too intimate and far too close to a bed. It was undoubtedly just how he wanted it, and a large part of her did as well, but Edina knew she had to fight that reckless part of her.
    “I dinnae think this is a good idea,” she said, and turned back to the door.
    Lucais grabbed her by the hands and tugged her over to a small table set in front of the huge stone fireplace that warmed his room. “I swear to ye, loving, that I will do naught that ye cannae agree to,” he vowed as he gently pushed her down into a chair.
    And that was the real problem, Edina mused as she watched him sit down across from her and pour each of them some wine. She could easily be persuaded to agree to most anything Lucais asked of her. Smiling faintly, she touched her silver goblet to his when he raised it in a silent toast. It had been difficult enough for her to turn from his gentle seduction when they had been surrounded by people as in the great hall or the bailey. Now they were enclosed in privacy, warmed by the glow of a low-burning fire, and facing each other over a fine meal. Edina was not confident that she had the strength to resist his wiles. She could try to flee to her room, but, as he smiled at her over the savory roast lamb they dined on, the door through which she could escape suddenly looked miles away.
    Lucais saw the soft look in Edina’s eyes and inwardly smiled. He easily pushed aside the small twinge of guilt he felt over his attempts to seduce a wellborn maid. Edina wanted him; he was certain of it. The desire was there to see in the way she looked at him, and it was clear to feel every time they kissed. He had no intention of forcing her to his bed, but he was going to do his best to make her give in to that desire and come