The Highlander's Servant: Book One of the Highlander Possession Series (17 page)

             
“Aye, I ken.” She said almost defiantly, even though she was more than afraid of the feral man.

             
“Come, Kirstin, sit down for we have much to discuss.” Lachlan said, motioning to the loveseat as he took a seat in the opposing chair.

             
Kirstin kept her head up but let her eyes lower to the ground, so that he would not know how fearful she was of him. She took a seat in the loveseat, the tension in the room making it all the much more awkward between them as they sat in a deafening silence.

             
“Kirstin, donna cast yer gaze away. Look at me.” Lachlan demanded, and she listened to him. When she once again looked into his distinct pair of dark eyes, she saw that compassion, anger, and frustration were all mixed together.

             
“I am taking ye back in the morrow, after I rest a bit.” Lachlan said, “Ye have a choice in the matter.”

             
Kirstin perked at this bit of information, thinking that a choice wasn’t even an option but since he was giving her one, she would take it.

             
“What are my choices?” Kirstin asked warily.

             
Lachlan faintly smirked, “Either way ye have to come back with me, but ye can with or without yer mother. ‘Tis yer choice, but if yer mother comes I willna protect her if she is careless or travels back here alone. She is free to do as she wishes and ye, no’ so much for ye have been careless in yer ways already.” Lachlan sighed, “And if she stays here, then ye canna see her until I ken yer safe from Graham. So, what will it be?”

             
Kirstin frowned at her options, because they were not promising and did not assure the safety of her mother, but nevertheless she picked the latter, “I want my mother to come back with us. Some safety is better than none, and mayhap she will stay and no’ have any reason to come back here?”

             
Lachlan looked sorrowful, “Mayhap.” For the briefest of moments, Kirstin suspected he knew something that she did not. She did not question this small suspicion, and was taken off guard when Lachlan stood up and took a seat next to her.  They faced each other as if briefly admiring the other one. Then, Lachlan cupped her cheek and bent his head down for a light kiss.

             
He pulled away momentarily to watch her reaction, and then he kissed her again but harder. This time the kiss was more passionate, and it made up for not having kissed her the past several days. Lachlan’s lips moved against hers with such ease that it made Kirstin forget the tension that they had shared only moments ago. He pushed her down onto the loveseat, and held himself atop of her, all the while not ending the kiss.

             
Lachlan let his hands graze her soft curves, ending mid thigh. He pulled the hem of her dress up just enough to let his fingers graze her outer thigh. It was the first time he had pushed such intimacy on her.

             
Kirstin was so focused on the kiss, that she had not noticed Lachlan’s hand tracing circles on her thigh until his hand rose a bit higher. She gasped, breaking off the kiss, and then blushed furiously.

             
Lachlan had pulled her hem back down to her knees and watched Kirstin carefully, as if she would break soon. However, she did not. It was Kirstin who brought her lips back to his, continuing the kiss and deepening it with raw passion.

             
Lachlan went back to trailing her soft curves, but wished that he were not separated from her skin by the fabric of her dress. He did not attempt to touch her upper thigh again, knowing that he should give her time to adapt to such moves of affection.

             
Kirstin was innocent but not as innocent as she had once been. She controlled the kiss and even tangled her fingers into his hair. Her small hands would often trail down to his shoulders and then back to his head so that she could press his mouth harder to hers.

             
Lust made her inner core burn with what felt like fire. Kirstin began to realize the need she had for Lachlan, and just when his hands had begun trailing to the hem of her dress again, he stopped.

             
“If we continue like this, then there may never be a chance to turn back from something,” He kissed her nose and playfully finished “that is meant for our night of matrimony.”

             
Kirstin, tight lipped and blushing, nodded in understanding. As much as she did not want him to, Lachlan got off of her and stood from the loveseat. Kirstin sat up too, but let her eyes roam over his muscular body in admiration. Lachlan winked at her, making Kirstin turn her eyes away as she became embarrassed by her staring.

             
“Now, let us go find that mother of yers.” Lachlan stated, putting a hand out for her to take, “I dare say we still need to inform her of our betrothal.”

             
Kirstin gave a wry smile and became anxious at telling her mother about their informal engagement. Nevertheless, she took Lachlan’s hand and assured herself that her mother would be overjoyed at the news.

             
She followed Lachlan out of the room and back down the hallway, until they found her mother, Mrs. and Mr. Lester, and Davie lounging in a sitting room. Mr. Lester was a handsome gentleman, with a neatness that only a polite man could have. He was educated and well dressed, with red hair and green eyes. Davie was like his father in only appearance, because the boy was much too rowdy in nature to be exactly like his father.

             
“Ma,” Kirstin greeted her mother, who had eyed Kirstin’s hand holding with Lachlan in a disapproving way. There was sternness about her mother, and Kirstin had to constantly convince herself that she would approve of their engagement, “Lachlan and I need to speak to ye.” Kirstin said, looking around the room at the Lester family, and then added, “Alone.”

             
Her mother raised her head defiantly, “Surely there is naethin’ that ye have to say to me that ye canna say to everyone else.” It had come out as a statement and not a question, meaning that she was demanding her daughter to speak her words in front of an audience.

             
Irritated, Kirstin responded, “Very well then,” she looked at Davie once before turning back to her mother, “Lachlan and I are betrothed.”

             
Her mother’s eyes became vacant of emotion as if she were purposely hiding her true feelings, “Is that so?”

             
“Aye, ‘tis so.”

             
It shocked Kirstin when her mother laughed loudly, as if forced, “’Tis funny how young love can be so reckless. Do ye agree with me, Mrs. Lester?”

             
Mrs. Lester looked unsure because it seemed that all words had left her. Finally she agreed lightheartedly, “I suppose.”

             
Davie and Mr. Lester had left the room, ultimately avoiding the tense scene that was unfolding between Kirstin and her mother. Mrs. Lester followed shortly after them, leaving only Kirstin, her mother, and Lachlan.

             
As soon as they had gone, Mrs. Croft abruptly stood from her chair and demanded, “Come now, Kirstin. Mayhap ye should rethink yer betrothal to this man?” Said her mother, motioning to Lachlan who stood expressionless, “Ye have only known him for so long. Surely there is someone better?” Kirstin could not see, but Lachlan’s gaze had hardened towards her mother after the insult.

             
“Nay, Ma.” Kirstin tried to plead with her mother.              

             
“Very well then.” Mrs. Croft responded through clenched teeth, “After all, I have no say in the matter and yer father is dead.”

             
Kirstin flinched at that, further more asking, “Do ye have no sympathy for Pa?”

             
Mrs. Croft frowned at her daughter, “Of course, I do! I have cried myself to sleep every night. My child,” she replied sympathetically, “Do ye think so lowly of me?”

             
Kirstin almost hesitated, but answered, “Nay, I donna.” And she did not, because this was Kirstin’s mother, who had given birth to her, fed her, and raised her as a child. How could Kirstin think so lowly of her mother after all she had done for her? It was nearly impossible.

             
“Good. Now,” Mrs. Croft looked at Lachlan from over Kirstin’s shoulder, “Is there anything else you wish to say to me?”

             
“Aye,” Lachlan was first to speak this time, “I am making the offer for ye to come back with us. I ken how much Kirstin cares for ye, so ‘tis the least I can do.”

             
Something sparked in Mrs. Croft’s eyes as an idea obviously came to her, “I would be delighted.” Mrs. Croft smiled, but it was not a pleased smile and instead a scheming one.

             
Kirstin, on the other hand, beamed and took her mother in a hug, “I am so thrilled yer coming back with us.” Her mother inelegantly hugged her daughter back. If only Kirstin could not have been so blind to see the spiteful looks that Mrs. Croft and Lachlan shared in that one instant.

Chapter Twenty-One

             
“I ken why ye have changed, now.” Davie had said before Lachlan, Mrs. Croft, and Kirstin had departed.

             
“Why is that?” Kirstin had asked.

             
“Because ye have given yer heart to a man. Loving a person can change anyone.” He answered, and it must have been the wisest part of him that Kirstin had ever experienced. She thought over Davie’s words constantly as she rode back on Jack, with Lachlan directly behind her with control over the reins.

             
Her mother sat atop the brown mare that Lachlan had originally rode, and she did not look glad about it.

             
Kirstin sunk her weight into Lachlan’s chest, relaxing against him. She could not help but wonder if she really had changed as a person, and if she had was it considered a good or bad change?

             
“Lachlan,” Kirstin said to him as they came nearer to a large town, “I ken a woman of the name Vanora who wishes to meet ye. She lives in the nearest town by here.”

             
“How did ye go about meeting her?” He quirked an eyebrow at her, and then looked back to the path from which they were traveling.

             
“I stopped there one night and she provided me with food and drink, and a bed to sleep in. Mayhap we can visit her?”

             
“Aye,” Lachlan said, observing the late time of afternoon, “I donna see why we canna stay there for the night.”

             
Kirstin beamed up at him, “I thank ye, Lachlan.”

             
He nodded once to give her acknowledgment. Her mother had been listening but said nothing. In fact, she did not spare a single word the entire way to Vanora’s town, until they had arrived. Even then, Mrs. Croft only complained about the long day of riding and the aching of her sore limbs. Kirstin was much too kind in her ways, offering her mother a place to sit until Lachlan and her came back from seeing Vanora.

             
When they had arrived to the familiar bakery, Kirstin called out for the old but energetic woman. Only a minute later and Vanora had come running to the sound of Kirstin’s sweet voice, “Oh, my dear! How kind of ye to visit me once more.”

             
Vanora looked from Kirstin to Lachlan, her head having to stretch to meet his strong features, “Oh, my!” she exclaimed, “This must be the famous Laird Bateson.”

             
“Aye,” Kirstin smiled, “’Tis him.”

             
“Ye ken,” Vanora observed as if Lachlan had not been standing there right then, “He is no’ so intimating as people make him out to be. He has kindness in his eyes.” Lachlan grimaced at the old woman for putting down his solid reputation of being fierce and merciless, causing Vanora to laugh loudly.

             
“Mayhap, ye can stay for dinner? I fear I only have one spare bedroom, and unless yer willing to share,” she winked at Kirstin who instantly became flushed, “Then I recommend the inn that is no’ too far from here.”

             
“I intended to stay in an inn,” Lachlan replied, “for Kirstin’s mother is accompanying us.”

             
“Really, now? I do wish to meet the lovely woman.” Vanora exclaimed once more. Lachlan snorted in response to the description Vanora had given Mrs. Croft, making Kirstin glare in his direction.