Page 43 of Hold Fast

Though he had apologized already, Una was not yet accustomed to men apologizing at all. For anything. She blinked.

“Forgiven, m’laird,” she whispered.

He reached out and took her hand in his, chafing her knuckles with his thumbs.

“Ewan,” he replied, his voice soft but firm. “Or have you already forgotten your promise to me?”

“Ewan,” she breathed.

“Can we be friends again?”

She smiled and nodded. “Friends.”

He had not let go of her hand, and she did not pull it away. He was so close, close enough that she could see the fine weave of his shirt, the stubble on his jaw. She could feel the warmth of his breath and body.

The animal part of her, the voice in her brain that ran on instinctive fear alone, screamed at her to run, to get away before he could hurt her. But she found that there was another voice, a softer voice, one she had not heard in a very long time, that whispered, “He is nae Malcolm Cameron.”

He wasn’t. He was Ewan MacDonald, a gentle man who didn’t behave as if he was owed anything or entitled to anyone, who treated his people with kindness, who wept.

She remembered the way it had felt when he kissed her, the heat from his mouth, for that split second before he leapt away from her as if she’d been on fire. And she thought… maybe… perhaps, it wouldn’t be so bad to be kissed by him again.

He lifted her hand, his lips skating across her work-roughened knuckles and her breath caught in her chest. They stood like that for several long breaths. But then he pulled and she allowed herself to be towed closer. She rested her other hand gingerly on his chest, feeling the strong staccato of his heart beating beneath her palm. Una felt his ribs expand under her hand and inhaled deeply herself, the breath feeling like a wheeze.

“You asked if I regretted kissing you because I didnae want to.”

She swallowed against a thick lump and nodded.

“Una,” he whispered. “I shouldnae have handled you the way I did. I shouldnae have taken what you didnae offer.”

Oh. That was an answer. She was surprised by her disappointment.

But then he shifted impossibly closer. “But you make me want things I shouldnae have. I shouldnae want to kiss you, but Ido. I want it so badly I can feel it in my bones.”

Una allowed herself to soften, to feel the strength of his body surrounding her. She found that shewantedhim to hold her, to wrap her in a tight clasp and clutch her against him so that nothing could harm her ever again. He inclined his head, his lips close to hers, and closed his eyes before groaning softly, like a contented beast.

But then he released her hand and stepped away, and all the warmth left with him. She opened her mouth to protest, but before she could find the words, Ewan had spun on his heel and stalked out the door. Una sat heavily on the side of the bed, her heart pounding, her armpits sweating and her hands shaking.

I want it so badly I can feel it in my bones.

She brought her trembling fingertips to her lips and contemplated everything that she might want but was too afraid to reach out and take.

CHAPTER17

The following day, Una was in the kitchen crushing coriander seeds to give to a guard whose daughter was running a fever. There was something deeply comforting in the familiarity of the work. Grinding herbs and seeds had been one of the first tasks Agatha had assigned to her in her apprenticeship. Even as a child, she’d found something highly satisfying about watching the whole materials slowly break down into a fine, uniform powder. It hadn’t required her full attention, and so she’d been free to daydream while she worked.

As soon as she’d taken the pestle in hand that afternoon, her mind had wandered back to the day before. To the abrupt, stolen kiss, the way he had held her hand in his, the feeling of his lips brushing against her knuckles. She’d been startled by how much she liked the feeling of his fingers wrapping around hers, the way his heart pounded beneath her hand.

But more than the kiss or the gentle touches, Una kept replaying the apology in her mind. Both of them. No man hadeverapologized to her for anything, and yet Ewan had managed it twice.I shouldnae have handled you the way I did. I shouldnae have taken what you didnae offer.

He’d whispered it like a prayer. Like a confession.

She glanced down at the mortar, examining the nearly ground coriander. She breathed in the clean, strong fragrance and sighed.

“What has you smilin’ like that, Una?” Fenella’s gravelly voice asked, breaking through the haze of Una’s daydream.

She shook her head and looked across the work table at Fenella, who wore a smile of her own as she stared back at Una with a raised eyebrow. She was mixing pastry crust, her meaty hands pinching and working fat into the flour.

Una liked Fenella. She had a booming laugh, a bawdy sense of humor, and a temper that flashed hot like grease in a fire but burned off just as quickly. Una could relate. Fenella ran the kitchen with the precision and skill of a seasoned battle commander. The room was always clean and warm, and her charges worked efficiently but with excellent support and care. Fenella made sure everyone was fed, everyone sat and rested at regular intervals, and never turned away the children who seemed to always find their way into the warm sphere of her domain. Whenever Una came to the kitchen, there was always at least one child sitting on a stool at the long work table with a bowl of food and a large hunk of bread.