Page 19 of Scot of Deception
“Nay, nay,” Blaine assured her, pushing on a little faster to show Kathleen he was fine. How could he explain to her it was not exhaustion which had made him falter but rather the feel of her so close to him, the warmth of her body, the lavender scent of her hair? He was surrounded by her presence and it was driving him mad with lust—a lust upon which he could never act.
As they made their way to the next village, Blaine did everything he could to stop himself from showing any signs of arousal. The last thing he needed was for Kathleen to feelhim harden against her and then question him about it. He would have nothing to say to her. He would have no excuse, no words that could better the situation, and if her father ever found out, then he was bound to have his head for it.
I'd deserve it, too.
He was better than this. He wouldn’t lose his mind over a woman, no matter how beautiful or how alluring. And he certainly wasn’t going to jeopardize his mission for something as silly as desire.
For hours, they traveled like this, with Kathleen a little stiff in front of him and Blaine resembling a wooden board, each muscle in his body working hard to keep him as far away from Kathleen as possible, although it wasn’t far enough. The only thing he succeeded in was to keep his hips away from hers, which was, at least, a small blessing. By the time the next village appeared in the far distance, it was enough to invigorate him, and he perked up a little as they approached.
Soon, his torment would be over.
A village! Finally!
Kathleen cursed the moment her horse had stepped on that piece of glass—not only because the glass had hurt the beast,but also because the injury had forced her to ride on the same saddle as Blaine.
Never before had Kathleen shared a saddle with a man. There had been a few times in the past when she had shared a saddle with a relative, but that was far from a similar experience.
For one, she had never felt such agonizing attraction.
The entire way, Kathleen could feel Blaine’s warm breath on the back of her neck. She could feel the solid wall of his chest, the gentle embrace of his strong arms where they wrapped around her to reach for the reins. He was only steering the horse, of course. It was nothing more than necessity, but Kathleen found herself leaning into it regardless, letting herself enjoy the feeling of being held by a man for the very first time.
What would Blaine think if he kent?
Kathleen doubted he would appreciate the sentiment. A part of her couldn’t imagine him with a woman, despite his good looks. He was so cold and distant most of the time, so sullen, that she didn’t even know if there was space in his heart for romance.
She had the luck, at least, to reach the village without making a fool of herself. Blaine must have been too tired to notice anything was amiss, since he had even slid off the saddle at one point in their journey, managing to catch himself at the very last moment. He had denied being exhausted, but Kathleen knew better than that; and it was that exact exhaustion which had saved her from any real embarrassment.
Had he been more present, he would not have missed her awkwardness.
As they entered the village, Kathleen looked around, taking in the unfamiliar sights. The first few homes were small and squat, almost dilapidated, but the farther in they moved, the more vibrant the village became. The homes were still small, humble, but their gardens were bursting with colorful and fragrant flowers. The streets were filled with people and children, the latter laughing and running around without a care in the world.
And there, right in the middle of the village, was a market. The entire village square was filled with vendors and their carts, selling anything from flowers and lace to wine and ale. Kathleen looked around in wonder. It wasn’t the first time she had been to a market, but it was so rare for her that it still felt like a treat.
Behind her, Blaine laughed as she whipped her head back and forth, trying to catch every single detail—the deep reds and browns of the fabrics one of the vendors sold, the scent ofmulled wine, the patterns in the delicate lace hanging from the top of a cart and fluttering in the wind. She wanted to spend all her day there, looking through the different wares and tasting all the different delicacies the vendors were selling, but they had no time for that. Blaine didn’t even stop, deciding to ride right through instead, in his search for the farrier, whose workshop was just past the main square.
“Good afternoon,” called Blaine as he slid off the saddle, this time on purpose. Kathleen followed him, staying with his horse as he brought hers inside the small, stone structure, with its entire front side open to the outside. “I have a horse here that needs a good lookin’ at.”
“Good afternoon,” said the farrier as he stood from his bench where he had been hammering a horseshoe and made his way over to Sorrel. He was an older man, short and plump, with a waddle in his gait, and when he approached Sorrel, he did so with the confident calm of someone who could make any horse their friend. “Let us take a look at ye, then, lassie.”
Kathleen watched the man as he took Sorrel’s leg and examined her hoof, tutting softly to himself. It wasn’t long before he straightened, shaking his head.
“This will take a few days,” he said. “I can pull the glass out an’ change the horseshoe, but the glass is in there deep. It’ll be four, perhaps five days afore she can carry weight.”
“We dinnae have that much time,” Blaine said. “Is there naethin’ ye can dae tae help? We’ll reach our destination soon.”
The farrier drew his gaze to Sorrel, hands on his hips as he considered Blaine’s request. “I wouldnae risk it if I were ye. Such a bonnie horse, be a shame if ye cripple it.”
“Blaine,” said Kathleen, rushing to him to place a hand on his shoulder. “I dinnae want tae hurt her.”
With a sigh, Blaine ran a hand through his chestnut hair. “I thought ye wished tae attend the weddin’.”
“I dae,” Kathleen said. “But nae at her expense.”
“Ye can leave the horse here an’ take her on yer way back,” the farrier suggested. “I’ll take good care o’ her.”
“Ach, could ye?” Kathleen asked, turning to the man. Quickly, she reached into her coin purse, pulling out a small mound of coins, but just as she was about to present it to the man, Blaine snatched her hand and pushed it behind her back, much to Kathleen’s confusion.
“Where will we find another horse?” Blaine asked before Kathleen could say anything else to the man.
