Page 24 of It Began With A Kiss
Aiden reached up to cup her cheek and her own hand lifted to gently cover his own. “There is only one woman here who has captured my attention. She is my match in every way. If possible, I would spend all my days, and most assuredly my nights, with her until my last dying breath.”
A heavy sigh escaped her, knowing in her own heart that his words were honestly spoken. “Ye do not think we are taking things between us a might fast?” she asked, as a smidgen of doubt crept into her normal rational thinking.
“I think that mayhap the heart knows when a person has met the other half of themselves that has been missing. All things then fall into place. What does it matter if we have only just met or that we have known one another for years?” he inquired, whilst his thumb skimmed over her cheek.
“Some may say we are not thinking clearly,” she said, although her thoughts were as clear as the day had been fair.
“I care not what others may think of us. I only know that you have been a pleasant surprise, Iona. I cherish our time together and look forward to what the future may bring.” Another roguish grin lifted the corners of his mouth. He raised her hand toward his lips, turned her palm over and placed a kiss on her wrist.
There was no time for a response as a pitcher was pushed between them. Thora began pouring the wine into Aiden’s chalice and Iona glared at the woman whilst watching her hands shake. Red wine spilled onto the white cloth.
“My apologies, my laird… milady,” Thora said in a tone that was as shaky as her hands. “I will get something tae clean up my mess.”
She flew from the table to disappear into the kitchen and did not reemerge. Aiden lifted his cup to his lips but, before he could take a sip, Iona reached over, turned the chalice and placed her lips where his had been but moments before. Aiden’s eyes widened and then desire rushed across his visage whilst Iona took a long sip of his wine.
“’Tis a lover’s gesture, Iona, to place your lips where mine had just touched this humble chalice,” he murmured huskily.
“Aye, my laird, I am well aware of the custom,” she replied, in a breathy whisper of desire. There was no sense in denying what she wanted and whom. Aiden fulfilled all of Iona’s deepest yearnings for a chivalrous knight to call her very own. She might as well give in to the temptation he presented to her on a daily basis.
“And you choose now, of all times, when I must needs be present to fulfil my obligation to the clan and any woman who wishes to dance across the floor with the new laird?” he inquired. He gave a heavy sigh when he noticed another woman making her way toward the table. Iona noticed the woman was one among many who scrambled over who would gain Aiden’s notice first.
Iona laughed brightly. “It seemed the safest solution, my laird, as I did not wish to get trampled in the rush for yer attention,” she replied, before leaning forward to whisper in his ear. “However, the night’s festivities will soon be over and perchance we can continue this discussion in one of our bedchambers.”
“You will give me much to think on the rest of the eve, Iona. I can only pray the festivities will not last long.” His breath was warm against her ear, and she held her breath when he placed a quick kiss upon her cheek.
Aiden quickly stood and was claimed by another woman from the clan. The dancing continued onward whilst Iona watched from a distance over the man she had come to care for. She drank his wine since he obviously had no need of it, occupied as he was, for it seemed every woman in the village, both young and old, came to claim their laird for a turn around the dance floor.
Her stomach revolted suddenly, and Iona quickly placed her hand over her mouth when she became nauseous. Peering at the leftover food, she wondered what on the trencher still before her had soured her stomach. ’Twas certain Aiden seemed to be fit and was not experiencing the same discomfort as he continued to hop and skip to the patterns of the current tune.
If not the food, then what? The wine? She had finished most of it by herself. Could it be… Iona frowned in thought. She was reaching for the cup when she felt as though she was about to lose her supper. She bolted from the room, running out through the kitchen doors to the garden since it was the closest exit, and she would never make it up to her bedchamber in time. She barely made it outside… the poor garden!
After losing the entire contents of her stomach, she made her way to her bedchamber. Once there, she took ink to parchment and sent her apologies to Aiden. She had had such lovely thoughts of spending the night in his arms and now they were all ruined. Making love was certainly not going to be the evening’s entertainment, not when she was feeling this ill. Instead, Iona took off her gown, put on clean linen, and crawled between the coverings of her bed. ’Twould be a long time that night before she at last found her slumber.
CHAPTER18
Aiden worried over Iona whilst she slowly made her way to the table. The hall was mostly empty either from those who remained abed after too much to drink last eve, or those who had already eaten their fill of the morning meal and went about their daily tasks. For Aiden, he had been concerned after receiving Iona’s missive. She had been unwell… or so her note alluded. At the time, Aiden thought perchance she had changed her mind about how their eve might progress. But a look at her pale face whilst she drew closer left Aiden in no doubt that whatever ailed her still had a hold of its effects on her.
She all but slumped into her chair next to him and pushed away the trencher he had moved between them. “Nothing so heavy this morn, Aiden,” she whispered, covering her mouth.
He called out for porridge and soon a hot bowl was placed before her. “Mayhap this will settle your stomach.”
She managed to lift one brow and her look told him much. “Was it the food last eve that caused you to become unwell? Or mayhap you changed your mind, and your missive was an excuse.” Hurt flashed across her features and Aiden regretted his words especially since he had noticed she was physically unwell.
“My only remorse was that I became ill. ’Twas certainly not my intent tae ruin what looked tae be a perfect eve once we were alone.”
“My apologies, Iona. I did not mean to discount your words as an untruth.”
“Yer apology is accepted, my laird.”
Aiden gave her hand a squeeze. “The question still comes to mind what caused your discomfort.”
Iona shrugged. “It could be any number of things, but I have my suspicions. Since ye partook of the same fare and appear as healthy as ever, then I am under the impression ’twas nothing I ate,” she murmured lifting the spoon to her nose to sniff the contents. She hesitated and then sampled a small bite. Since another followed in its place, Aiden assumed the food agreed with her.
He nodded in her direction before beginning to eat from the trencher before him. “Then mayhap ’twas but an inconvenience and nothing to fret over.”
“’Twas more than an upset stomach, my laird.” Setting her spoon down, she sat back in her chair. “Not that this is the time for such a conversation whilst we are breaking our fast, but I felt as though my innards revoted against themselves last eve. I spent most of the eve with my head in a chamber pot. ’Twas most unpleasant.”
“We shall hope for the best that your ailment has passed you by. Mayhap you are in need of fresh air to further remedy your recovery,” he stated, when Thora came and placed a cup within his reach. He took hold of the tankard of ale, waited for Thora to depart, and then continued his conversation with Iona. “I would ask if you desire wine or ale but I have the notion neither would appeal to you this morn.”
