Page 14 of Lost with a Scot
“It certainly does. Have ye been coughing?”
“No, not at all.”
“That’s good.” Dr. MacDonald shot a glance at Aiden, and she saw Aiden’s relief at whatever the doctor’s silent look had told him.
“Well, Miss Anna, continue to rest. Eat whatever ye want for now, but avoid cheese and milk if ye start coughing.” The doctor closed his bag after setting a small bottle on the washstand. “Take two drops of this if ye have any pain.” To Aiden, he added, “Be strict with the dose. ’Tis morphine and must be given with care.”
“I understand,” Aiden promised. After the doctor left, Aiden’s gaze returned to Anna.
She was alone with him now. Her mind told her that was dangerously scandalous. But her heart trusted this quiet, solemn stranger beyond all rationality. He represented warmth, strength, and safety to her, yet he also awakened other feelings in her, ones she had trouble recognizing. Ones that made her skin flush and her breath catch when he came too close to her.
“Are ye hungry?” he asked.
Strangely, she was. “Yes, I’m rather famished.”
“I’ll fetch some dinner for us.” He offered her a reassuring smile and then left her alone once more.
Anna was going to wait in bed until he returned, but then she decided she wanted to feelnormaland not like some invalid. She moved the two armchairs by the fire until they faced each other, and then she set a small side table between them so they might use it for their plates. She was moving her hands over the blankets of the bed after setting the sheets back in place when he returned. Aiden carried a tray of meat and some freshly baked bread, along with a plate of boiled potatoes. It was hearty fare and simple food, yet it smelled wonderfully divine.
Aiden’s gaze swept over her little arrangements to create a dining area for them.
“I thought it might be nice to...” She faltered at his silence. If only she knew what he was thinking. She examined him in the brief silence, taking in his height and broad chest. His dark hair fell into his eyes, and Lord, those eyes... They blazed in the half-light of twilight. It made her all the more aware of his closeness, his size compared to hers, and the wealth of unsaid words in his gaze.
“That’s a lovely idea, lass. I’m sorry I didna think of it myself.” He set the food down and poured them each a glass of wine, and then they sat down in their chairs so very properly despite being in such a tiny little room.
“Mr. Kincade...,” she began uncertainly.
“Aiden, lass, call meAiden.”
“Oh, but I feel I shouldn’t.” She longed to call him Aiden, but it seemed she had been drilled on the proper way to address a person she didn’t know.
“Ye should. I can only call ye Anna, after all. ’Tis only fair.”
She laughed softly. “I can’t argue with that logic, I suppose.” She was silent a long moment before finding the nerve to speak again. “Aiden?”
“Yes?” He broke off a piece of bread and took a bite. His gaze never left hers, and it was strange to feel the intensity of his focus, yet exciting too.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know much about myself to provide decent conversation. So I was hoping you might perhaps tell me about yourself instead?”
He swallowed and looked at her a long moment, his expression still unreadable. “Ask me anything ye wish.” His voice was impossibly soft, and yet there was a hint of roughness to it, as though he didn’t speak often, which made this conversation, however casual, seem all the more important.
“I’m a stranger to ye, and ye have put yerself into my safekeeping,” he continued. “’Tis yer right to know me.”
To know him...How those words filled her with a deep ache that had no explanation.
“For which I am grateful,” she was quick to add. “I will repay you once I discover who I am.”
“Do not trouble yerself over that. I seek no repayment of any kind.”
She blushed at the quiet, elegantly put assurance that he would make no scandalous demands of her.
“I’m the third child of the last of Kincade clan who still remain in Scotland after Culloden.”
“Culloden?” The word sounded familiar to her.
“It was the last major battle we Scots fought against the English, almost eighty years ago. We lost. Bitterly.” Aiden spoke with a well of sorrow in his eyes, and it ripped something soft inside of her. His voice was so deep and sad, resonating in her chest. “Everything in my country was destroyed. Clans were broken, lairds killed, homes burned to the ground, and property taken from my people and given to the English.”
“That’s horrible,” Anna breathed, the horror of it branding itself on her soul.
