Page 7 of A Two-Faced Laird
Edina smiled at Lewis, but all she received in return was a slight nod.
They rode down to Achnabreck,which was only a quarter of a mile away, in silence. Occasionally, Edina tried to break it by pointing out something that caught her eye, or asking Lewis a question about the countryside around them, but all she received were monosyllabic answers, and at last she gave up.
The village was much as she remembered it. A few of the oldest buildings had been demolished and replaced with newer ones or refurbished, one of them being the alehouse and inn, which was called the Fatted Calf.
“I remember my father telling me what a wicked place that was,” Edina told Lewis. “Strange, but now that I see it again, it seems so small and not threatening at all.” She turned to him and smiled. “Would you like to come inside with me and take a glass of ale?”
“There is plenty of good ale back at the castle,” he replied tersely. “But you may go by yourself if you wish.”
“I am not going in there alone,” Edina told him, somewhat annoyed. “Are you afraid?”
He sighed and ran his hand backwards through his hair.
“I had a bad experience there which I would rather not discuss. I can stand at the door.”
At once, Edina felt contrite. “I can see it bothers you. No harm done,” she said gently, walking away.
He watched her as she did so, her hips swaying as she moved, and he felt a leap of desire as he hardened in response to the sight. This was torture.
A little girl of perhaps six years old bumped into Edina, who bent over to speak to her.
“Hello there, what is your name?” she asked.
“Maggie,” the little lass said, so quietly that Edina could hardly hear her. “And yours, Mistress?”
“Edina,” she replied. “Maggie is a lovely name.”
She looked around her to see that a crowd of children, none of them over about eight years old, was gathering, so she stayed to identify them all and became engaged in their innocent chatter. Edina discovered that quite a few of them came from the local orphanage, which had not existed the last time she was there. That made her wonder why so many children had lost their parents, but it inspired another notion. She had always wanted to do good in the community, and thought she had just seen a way to do that.
As she left the children, she saw a baker’s shop further down the street, and turned to smile at Lewis, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Do you remember the day that Aidan went in there pretending to have a sore leg? He was hoping the baker would give him some bread.”
Lewis grinned broadly. It was the first time Edina had seen him do so since she had come back, and she was mesmerised; he looked like a different person.
“I remember the baker’s dog chasing him out.” He laughed at the recollection. “He was terrified, but everybody knew that wee tyke would never bite anyone—maybe lick them to death.”
“Now I need a treat!” Edina said, clapping her hands as she set off across the street.
She came back a moment later with two scones spread thickly with honey and held one out to him. He felt nauseous as he looked at the sickly goo dripping from the cake, and turned his head away to avoid looking at it.
“Do you not want it?” Edina’s face was a picture of disappointment. “You used to love these!”
“I was a child then,” he told her. “My tastes have changed.”
“I cannot let these go to waste.”
Lewis again watched her walk across the street, then she urged the street children into the baker’s shop. A moment later, they began to emerge, each one carrying a scone dripping with honey. Now everyone was happy—the baker, because of the profit he had made, the children, because of their treats, and Edina herself because she had given pleasure to so many people.
In fact, she smiled contentedly at everyone she met, and seemed genuinely pleased to see all of them. In turn, they greeted her with great enthusiasm too, and after a few hours they had met just about everyone in the village.
Lewis was surprised to feel his stomach curl with jealousy when everyone admired her, especially some of the young men of her own age, whose open desire shone in their eyes. He glared at them fiercely, but was laughed at for his pains.
“Leave them.” Edina laughed. “They probably do that to all the girls.”
Further down the street, they passed by a group of old housewives chatting in the street, and one of them waved to Lewis.
“Master Aidan, nice tae see ye back,” she said, with a gap-toothed smile.
