Untamed Hearts (A Highland Hearts Novella) (Entangled Edge) (6 page)

Her gaze rested on the wool blanket where his warm body had lain up against her, keeping her cozy through the night. At first it had been nearly impossible to settle down with his bulk surrounding her, but he’d patiently rested beside her, and she’d finally fallen asleep. She glanced around the stirring mass of Macbains. Where was he?

Ann rose across the room and waved to her. Jonet padded delicately between the sleeping people and met her best friend under the arch leading to the back side of the great castle.

“Have you seen Will?” Jonet asked.

Ann smiled. “I saw him lying right up against you all night.”

Jonet ignored her blush. “Well, he’s not there now.”

“I think I saw him headed with the young lad toward the kitchen,” Donald said and studied Jonet. “You know he’s a pirate,” he warned.

Jonet frowned fiercely, taking in both Donald and Ann. “I am a grown woman, no young maid.”

“I but want you to be care—”

She held up a hand. “God’s teeth, Donald. Will’s not even a real pirate. He saves children from slave traders.”

“Aye, but he acts like a pirate,” Donald said.

“Which may not be altogether bad,” Ann giggled, receiving a frown from her brother.

“You stay away from him,” Donald ordered, his finger jabbing at Ann.

Ann shrugged. “He seems to be only after Jonet, anyway.”

After her? Was he? Well, the kiss certainly seemed to mean that, but was he just after any lass? Could he be tumbling some Munro wench right now?

Jonet turned and headed through the dark corridor. Up ahead was a series of cramped storage rooms. She walked on her toes, afraid to come upon Will kissing some maid, or worse, in one of the dark rooms.

“What are you going to do if you find him back here?” Ann whispered. Jonet dragged her finger across her neck as if slashing a throat. Ann giggled. “The lass or Will?”

“It depends,” she whispered back.

“On what?”

“Whoever seems to be enjoying themselves more,” Jonet said. The farther she hunted, the angrier she became. Where the blasted hell was he? And with whom? She wouldn’t stand to be humiliated again. By the time they reached the walkway to the kitchens, Jonet had talked herself into believing the worst. Will Wyatt was a lecherous scoundrel, pirate or not.

As they passed the kitchen herb garden, Ann plucked off some mint and passed some to Jonet to chew. She chomped on it, and her stomach growled for food. Perhaps the kitchen was a good place to stop. Perhaps Will had actually ended up there. Either way, she and Ann could help with the huge preparations that must be going on to feed the flood of displaced.

The yeasty smell of baking bread permeated the air of the warm room. “
Och
, I’m hungry,” Ann said as they rounded the corner. A line of maids stood at the back, seemingly motionless, their eyes riveted toward the great hearths. Some held their cheeks in their palms, one fluttered a hand flat against her heart. The portly chief cook mopped her forehead with her apron skirt.

Ann gasped and tugged on Jonet’s sleeve.

“And that is how you make Salamagundi, the heartiest stew found this side of the equator.” Jonet stared, her jaw dropping like those around her at the sight of Will stirring a huge, black cauldron over the cook fire. His upper body was completely free of clothing, and his trews fit tightly to his perfectly muscled backside. A fine sheen of sweat along his tanned skin gave him almost a glow in the light of the fire. The faint line of a scar, perhaps a sword slash, crossed over from his shoulder blade down to his hip. The muscles rippled under it as he stirred. Jonet swallowed hard against the sudden dryness of her mouth.

“Let it simmer for a time, and it will be ready with the bread to feed the crowds in the great hall.” He shrugged his massive shoulders, and Jonet heard several ladies suck air in quickly. “Now ’twould be better with some turtle meat or fresh fish, but the goose and venison will do. Grapes would also complement the spiced wine.” He turned to look at the cook. “Have you any grapes?”

All the cook could do was shake her graying head. Will gave the lady a wicked grin. Well, it probably was just a grin, but everything on that man seemed a wee bit wicked. “Well then, the sweet wine will do.”

Will caught sight of Jonet standing with Ann. His smile reached his eyes. “I see you’ve risen.” He nodded to them both. “You can help us get everything passed out.” Jonet managed to nod. He sauntered over to her as if she were the only one in the large, hot room. He ran a hand along her hair from the top of her head, down one long tress. “You look a bit tussled.” He leaned in and brushed a kiss across her parted lips, as if they were a long-time married couple.

She felt all gazes on her, and Ann made a strangled noise. Will pulled back. “Mmm…mint. I like mint.” He turned to head back to the cauldron. Jonet glanced at the awestruck Munro maids, their eyes widening as he stretched his large arms overhead, his fingers catching a wooden rafter to stretch. He must know he was causing a fluster.

Jonet strode over to the fire as the cook yelled for the maids to check the loaves of bread before they burned. “Where is yer shirt?” Jonet whispered tersely next to his shoulder. He nodded toward the corner. “Put it back on.”

“I’m hot,” he said and gave a cocky grin.

Well, he certainly raised the temperature of every woman in the room. Jonet frowned. “’Tis a common complaint of the kitchen workers, but ye don’t see me stripping down indecently.”

“I don’t mind if you strip down.” He winked at her.

She grabbed up his shirt. “Put it back on. Ye can help me bring all this to the great hall. The children will be waking soon and be hungry.”

Will clapped his hands together, rubbing them. “My stew will fill them up until supper for certain.” He looked so proud of his creation, Jonet couldn’t help but smile. He threw his shirt over his head, though it hardly contained all that muscle and man. At least it covered enough to release the women back to their work. God’s teeth, he’d have every available lass fluttering around him now. Would they even care that he’d kissed her as if he belonged only to her?

Jonet hesitated. But that was a farce as everyone kept trying to warn her. He didn’t belong only to her. Will Wyatt had apparently never belonged entirely to anyone. And she refused to be duped again into thinking that a man could care only for her.

He lifted the heavy cauldron onto a rolling, stone platform made to wheel it into the hall. Several maids volunteered to help take pitchers of ale and cider in, but Cook picked only two. Ann loaded a cart with loaves of aromatic barley bread and wooden bowls, cups, and spoons. They made a parade through the garden and into the main hall. Jonet helped steer the heavy stew as Will pushed it. She saw him pluck some mint and chew it on the way through. Would he want to kiss her again? The thought flipped about in her stomach, and she nearly ran into a barrel inside the door.

“Keep care,” Will warned. “If this stew spills, bellies will go hungry.”

Granted, the aroma steaming up from the hot contents was curiously tempting, rather like the man who’d created it. But she hoped he wouldn’t be hurt if people didn’t appreciate the strange fare. Grapes, of all things? Thank the good Lord Cook didn’t have anything so exotic. The different types of meats and spiced wine was strange enough. “I hope the children will like it,” she said. “They are not used to pirate stew.”

“Ah now, taking a risk to try something new is good for the spirit. Courage must be tested in order to grow in a person.” The words were spoken without the usual teasing lilt. She glanced back over her shoulder and met his gaze. His eyes were serious and his voice husky, like when he’d kissed her in the dark forest the night before. He stopped the cart, and she realized she’d nearly run them into the side of the archway that marked the entrance to the great hall.

“Something on your mind, woman?” he asked. “Or are you always so off balance in the morning?”

“I…was just thinking about the children, where they will stay,” she covered. “It will be difficult for them sleeping every night on the floor here.”

They wheeled the carts in the room that had turned back into a gathering room with tables and benches, the blankets, and pallets stacked along one wall. Jonet spotted the four children she’d been watching at Druim. The oldest girl, Jane, was talking with Margery. They both laughed at something little Charissa said.

“I spoke with Caden and Searc about that this morn,” Will said and stopped the pot near the hearth where a cook bar was hanging. “Searc says that the townspeople will take in the children with their mothers, a few per house. The warriors can sleep in the keep or stables, and we’ll put the single women above stairs in the empty rooms.”

“How about our children?” she asked and then paused. It had rolled off her tongue so naturally.
Their children
. But Will continued to hang the cauldron over the embers.

“Stephen will want to sleep with the warriors, no doubt. I think Margery will take care of Charissa at one of the houses, perhaps with a couple of your charges.” He turned and wiped his arm across his forehead with a smile. “That would leave you and me free to sleep where we will.”

She opened and closed her mouth twice before she realized that she had absolutely no reply for such a statement. Will chuckled and waved to Ann to bring the bowls over to the hearth. Stephen ran over. “Is that Salamagundi?” The boy sounded like he was already relishing the taste.

“Aye, it is, lad, though without fish or turtle or grapes.”

Stephen put his face near the pot and inhaled. “Smells like Salamagundi.” He shrugged.

“Salama what?” Margery asked.

“Salamagundi,” Stephen said slowly. “The best stew on the seas.”

Margery inhaled while Charissa jumped up and down. “Who made it?” Margery asked.

“That would be me,” Will answered.

Several warriors came over with the mothers who’d lined up to retrieve some food for their children. Eric laughed. “So the mighty pirate is also a cook maid.”

“Aye,” Will said. “I’m quite talented at a lot of things.” He grinned, and the kitchen maids giggled. Jonet felt herself blush hot. How was it that the man could make a simple statement sound like he was talking about tupping?

Will leaned back against the wall, his feet crossed at the ankles and his muscular arms crossed over his chest. Searc dug right in. He chewed and spooned another scoop into his mouth. Everyone seemed to watch him. Will smiled confidently. Searc began to nod. “Good, really good. The spices are an odd mix, but it’s…tasty.”

The other warriors started eating as if they hadn’t been waiting for the sixteen-year-old to brave a taste first. Jonet made certain that each child was served with a fistful of bread. She ruffled Charissa’s curly locks and stood straight, bumping against an unmovable heat. “Oh,” she gasped and snapped around.

“You feed everyone but yourself.” Will’s deep voice slid through her, its timbre kicking her heart into a rapid dance. He held a steaming bowl. “Eat up. You’ll need your strength.” He winked.

She snatched it from him, nearly sloshing it over the rim. “Everything ye say is…” Her face felt as hot as the soup.

“Aye?” he prodded.

“’Tis said as if ye talked of tupping.”

“With you, I am,” he whispered back.

“Errr,” she huffed and grabbed a piece of bread. She heard him chuckling behind her and joined Ann and the children at the end of one long table. She tasted the stew tentatively, the first touch being strangely flavored. As she let it settle on her tongue, the seasonings wove together into an intricately tasty mix of sweet and salty and exotically spicy. It was good, really good. When she looked up from her bowl, she saw him staring at her, eyebrows raised over his laughing eyes that she knew were a deep, warm brown. She took another spoonful and let her lips turn up in a grin. She nodded.

Will slapped his hands together in one quick explosion of sound. A maid next to him jumped, a hand going to her bosom. He turned to ladle another helping and strode toward them. He squeezed in next to Jonet.

Ann tilted her bowl to catch the last drop. “It’s amazingly good, Will. Where did ye learn to cook?”

“On board the
Queen Siren
. Captain Bart found I had a knack for blending flavors, so I advised the cook and collected ingredients when we were off ship.” Jonet felt him shrug, his strong shoulder sliding against her arm. “Nothing will keep a crew working in harmony better than a full gullet and a nice taste on their tongues.”

“Same with Highlanders,” a maid said with an annoying little titter. The two from the kitchens had followed him over from the hearth. Didn’t they have work to do?

Charissa finished her stew and crawled onto Will’s lap while she nibbled on her bread.

“All right, little mite,” he said. “Stay with Stephen and Margery while I find some clean water. Is there a stream nearby or a place you all go to wash?”

“I’ll show ye,” one maid volunteered.

“Me also,” the other followed quickly.

Jonet turned to look up at him. “Can ye swim then?”

“Quite well,” he answered.

“I’d heard that seamen thought it bad luck to learn to swim,” she said.