Page 24 of A Two-Faced Laird
“When was this done?” she asked.
“Why are you so interested?” Lewis asked, frowning.
He was playing for time, and they both knew it. He wanted to get Edina out of the room as quickly as possible, so he had to keep her attention as he maneuvered her towards the door.
“I am curious,” she answered, looking at the painting again. “It looks as though you were fourteen or fifteen. Who painted it?”
“A friend of my grandfather’s,” Lewis replied irritably. “Why do you want to know? Are you thinking of having your own portrait done? And why are you asking so many questions about me and my brother?”
As he spoke, he was moving towards her, and he stopped only a yard away from her. As usual, a potent current of attraction passed between them. Edina became acutely aware of the bed beside her, wondering how she would feel if Lewis suddenly took her in his arms and tumbled her onto it, then made passionate love to her.
She looked into his light-brown eyes, now golden in the candlelight, and saw that he looked troubled. Did he feel the same way she did? She put up her hands and cupped his face, loving the rasp of his day’s growth of beard. Was there anything more sensual than the feel of a man’s face, she wondered?
Lewis almost succumbed to the feel of Edina’s gentle touch. He had felt his body respond to her as soon as he saw her, but now he was hard and almost helpless. Whoever had called women weak had been mistaken, because this woman was much stronger than he was. Yet at that moment, as he looked down into Edina’s smoky violet eyes, he realised that she could have done, or made him do, anything her heart desired. She was dangerous.
With that thought, he snapped back to reality, and took a step backwards away from her. He swallowed, and passed his hand over his eyes.
“This room troubles you,” Edina stated, without answering his question. “You were upset the last time you came here, and you are feeling the same way today. Do you miss your brother Aidan when you come in here?”
“Of course I do!” he snapped. “I miss him all the time. He was part of me. Do you not have a brother or sister you would give your life for?”
As soon as he said it, Lewis realised he had said the wrong thing, having been told about Edina’s mother’s history of lost babies. He felt wretched.
“Edina, I—” he began, but she held up her hand to stop him.
“My mother miscarried her babies and I have no siblings,” she said softly. “There is nothing to be done about it. You made a mistake, Lewis, but I do not hold it against you.”
She wondered if she should mention the news that the merchants had told her about the incoming ships, but decided against it. There was no point in raising his hopes only to have them dashed again.
Edina lowered her hands from Lewis’s face, then she turned her eyes to the picture one last time. They left the room together, and as they walked towards the courtyard, Edina smiled.
“Do you remember the day we had the bet on who could climb the highest into the pine tree beside the loch?”
Lewis was silent for a moment before answering. In truth, it had been one of the most terrifying experiences of his life, and he shivered all over as he thought of it.
Edina had been the first one to reach the tree. Even though she was obliged to wear skirts, which she hated, she was the fastest of the three of them. The boys were bigger and stronger, but Edina had little fear, and would happily crash through undergrowth and through muddy puddles if it meant winning a game.
Now she stopped at their favourite tree, which was by far the tallest one beside Loch Dubh, and looked up into its branches, having to tilt her head back as far as it would go to see properly.
“I bet I can climb the highest,” she said with a devilish smile.
“Do not be so silly,” Lewis said sternly. “You will hurt yourself, Edina, and our parents will not be happy. You know who will get all the blame, do you not?”
“Not me!” Edina replied, giggling. “Nobody ever blames me.”
Then, before anyone could stop her, she began to scramble up the rough bark of the tree, using the branches as footholds.
For a few seconds, the brothers stood on the ground before Aidan made a sudden leap upwards and began to scramble after Edina. He was nearly as fast as she was, and had begun to catch up to her when his foot snapped a branch, making him lurch sideways and almost fall. He managed to hang on with one hand, but he was frozen with terror and unable to move up or down. He was perhaps twenty feet off the ground, and it was obvious that if he fell he would injure himself severely—or worse.
They had, of course, played tree-climbing games many times before, as was evidenced by the time they had all fallen on top of each other in a heap, but they had never before ventured up so dangerously high.
Edina was above them and saw nothing of what had happened, so she went on climbing, completely unaware of what was going on. It was only when she heard Aidan’s squeal of terror that she looked downwards, then for the first time she realised how high up she was, and her stomach lurched with fear. However, she had stronger nerves than Aidan, and she waited while Lewis scrambled up to help his brother to the ground before climbing down herself.
There she found Aidan clinging to his brother, weeping as though his heart would break, swearing to never follow her that high again. Lewis had his arms around him in a tight embrace and was making soft, soothing noises. When Aidan reached home he was literally sick with fear, and had to stay in bed for two full days to recover, and Lewis sat by his bedside for most of that time. Edina had felt dreadfully guilty, but three days after he recovered, she had left for Inverness, and that was the last time she had seen Aidan.
Even at the tender age of ten, Edina had been aware of Lewis’s fierce and protective love for his brother, and as she looked at him now, she realised that nothing had changed. He had tried to avoid looking at the portrait, and Edina was sure that it was because he did not wish to make a fool of himself by breaking in front of her.
Men were strange, she thought. They were big, muscular, and strong on the outside, yet they were expected by society to keep their tenderest emotions hidden. Edina knew that if she scratched the surface, things would be utterly different because therein lay the seat of their pity, fear, protectiveness, and most of all, love. She knew this because she had seen it herself.
