Ben. We’ve been friends a long time, but she’s not for you. Do ye understand?”
Ben smirked and then grinned. “Aye, we’re friends, and I see how ’tis between you two, even if ye don’t. Not yet, at least. I’ll not touch your lass, I promise, but if you’re interested in the girl, you need to tell her. Now, while she’s here, before she’s not.”
“I’m not interested in her.” The words turned his gut for the lie they were. Deep down, even he realized that Abigail Cross was unlike any woman he’d ever known. Other than his sister, she was the first person he’d been honest with about his wishes for the future, his plans. She may have not agreed with how he’d set out to achieve those goals, but she was willing to help him, in any case.
In fact, her strong will and independence attracted him the most. She didn’t cower around him, wasn’t scared to share her opinion. So why do I want a wife who is the exact opposite…
He frowned, delving into his meal with zest, not wanting to debate why he’d think such a thing. He never used to. What he said and thought were always the same, but since Abigail’s arrival, everything had turned upside down.
Again, the word “trouble” floated through his mind.
“She’s a beautiful lass. She actually reminds me of someone, but I can’t think of who at the moment.”
Aedan looked at Abigail and then to Ben. “She’s never been here before, you know that. Why would ye think she reminds ye of someone?” He paused. “Have ye been talking to Gwen?”
Ben shrugged, taking a sip of mead. “I’d have to agree, but that’s not it. It’ll come to me, but like ye said, it matters little. We know she’s not native.”
No, she wasn’t. She stood up from across the table and bid the ladies good night. Aedan rubbed his jaw, the stubble on his chin reminding him to see his servant about a shave. Perhaps he ought to seek out his man before it became too late and the instruments wouldn’t be brought up to his room in the morning. “Excuse me for a moment.”
He stood and walked from the hall. Soft footfalls sounded ahead of him on the stairs, and he took them two at a time to catch up with Abigail. His eyes widened when he caught her pulling at the strings of her bodice before she’d even made her room.
“What are ye doing, lass? ’Tis hardly a private location.”
Abigail gasped and jumped against the wall, knocking her head. “Oww.” She rubbed her skull. “Don’t sneak up on me like that. You scared me half to death.”
Her bodice gapped, and the smooth, plump mounds at the top of her breasts were visible. He swallowed and shut his eyes, willing the vision to disappear from view, only to be bombarded with the reminder in his mind sight. He forced his eyes to reopen. “I apologize,” he said, meeting her gaze and holding his attention there and not lower on her person. “I wanted to catch my servant before it was too late. He’s old, I don’t use him at night normally.”
She started up the stairs again. “Well, good night then.”
Aedan fisted his hands. “Did ye find out anything interesting with the lasses today? Anyone appropriate that may be suited to be my bride?”
She came down the stairs and stood on the one up from him, placing her at eye level. He wanted to clasp her hips, pull her against him, do a lot of things he shouldn’t want to do.
“I did. I met Mae from Clan Scott today. She’s sweet, but unfortunately in love with someone else, so you’ll have to content yourself to being her friend only. Actually, her brother wants her to marry someone she’s not fond of, and we’ll need to discuss this at another time.”
He ran a hand through his hair, the smell of jasmine wafting from Abigail’s skin. Hell, she smelled sweet. “Aye, well that’s a pity, but I didn’t much like her openness and straightforward manner.”
“What do you mean?” She was frowning at him again, the action only making her more tempting.
“Mae Scott is very opinionated. I doubt such a woman would raise the amorous feelings you’re so adamant I use when choosing a wife.” Aedan didn’t know why he was teasing the lass so. Did he want her to react to him, to chastise him, remind him he was among the living but letting life pass