War and the Sea

SkullsandSlippers · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **SkullsandSlippers** on Fri Oct 25, 2013 9:39 pm

Isla looked down at her hands as Alysander and the other men talked. She hoped the man in charge would come soon so this could be straightened out. She did not know any of the places they spoke of. Maybe he will come soon and we can be gone by dinner.

The day wound down and the sun soon began to set. Around them the guards had started on their evening meal. They, the group of travellers by the fire were offered nothing. The lack of food and waiting was beginning to bother Isla. She was not exactly a patient woman and while fear was keeping her quiet inside she was growing more and more irritated. Two of the others kept complaining and it took everything in her not to yell at them to be quiet. Do they not realize we are all hungry? They are not helping the situation at all. Her teeth clenched until her jaw ached.

Only one of them remained quiet and though he smiled at Isla she could not bring herself to return the gesture.

It grew darker. Isla wondered what they would do for sleeping and if the man in charge would appear at all tonight. It would grow colder too but her blanket was with her pack and it was all with the horse. At least they have given us a fire. Her eyes stared at the flames, her annoyance clear in her eyes.

An older man approached finally. He had another man with him. He barked for them to stand and Isla exhaled forcefully through her nose. She had already experienced being a captive once and though this time she bore no bruises it was almost worse.

Isla took Alysander’s hand and stood. He pulled her close to him and for a moment she looked up at him. He was protecting her, even if all he was doing was keeping up the appearance that they were married it protected her. One of her arms went around his back and the other hand was placed on his torso.

When the man, the laird declared the others could go free Isla hoped for the best. Clearly the man had some sense.

When he came around the fire to their side and stopped in front of them she shrunk back a little against Alysander. He was looking at her, asking who she was. Alysander spoke up before she could say anything. She was glad. Isla was not sure if she could find her voice in that moment as he put her on the spot. Making her even more unsure and nervous was the fact that he was still looking at her even though Alysander had spoken to him.

”I’m sorry for this mix up. Have you eaten?”

Isla looked up at the laird. “We have not. We set off early and had not had a chance to break our fast when your men stopped us on the road.”

Her hand gripped Alysander’s shirt as if reminding any who saw that she was with him.

“My husband and I are on our way to meet kin.”

LockandKey · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **LockandKey** on Sat Oct 26, 2013 10:41 am

The man standing before he and Isla nodded understandingly. “I appologize, Mrs. MacClannahan.” Alysander noted with confusion that the man spoke with a strange accent. He sounded almost like the Englishmen they’d been sitting with, but not quite. There was an educated air about him, and Alysander would have bet the man was well-traveled. He certainly didn’t sound as if he’d grown up in the highlands. He turned to one of the men that was shadowing him, a man in his early sixties who seemed very lofty by the way he looked down his nose at everyone- everyone but his laird, naturally. “Will you make sure our guests receive dinner, and that their belongings are returned to them as soon as possible?”

The laird's attendant gave them all a look of disdain, but it was particularly centered on the three Englishmen across the fire. Ralph and Bill returned the hostile look with equal frankness, but Isaac appeared lost in thought and was staring at the fire, his fingers flexing as if he was playing an invisible stringed instrument. That one was strange, Alysander decided. He and Isla would have to find a way to depart without him so they wouldn’t be traveling the road to Skye as a trio.

When Alysander looked back at the laird, his eyes were looking intently at Isla. There wasn’t malice there, but Alysander couldn’t tell if the man was looking at his companion and faux-wife with fatherly affection or a level of sexual interest. It set him on edge, but he was still very much in the lion’s den.

“Mrs. MacClannahan, would you mind joining me for supper in my tent? It has been a long time since I’ve had the company of a woman, and I would very much like to hear about what brought you here.”

SkullsandSlippers · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **SkullsandSlippers** on Sat Oct 26, 2013 11:03 am

The name sounded odd on his lips in reference to her. Isla offered him a curt nod in return for the apology. She sighed when he turned and ordered everyone fed.

Thank goodness. Her stomach clenched as if reminding her that it was empty and wanted to eat. At least it did not rumble loudly.

There was an odd tension in the air as the man who accompanied the laird looked at them all as if barely tolerating the sight of them. Isla frowned at him. She could not understand his behaviour, the travellers were captives and had not done anything, the laird had said to feed them. This man had no reason to look down on the the way he was.

Isla turned her face back to the laird. He had not moved, was still standing in front of them. To her surprise she found him looking at her. Their eyes met briefly before Isla looked away. There was a slight heat to her cheeks and she was glad for the darkness that hid it.

“Mrs. MacClannahan, would you mind joining me for supper in my tent? It has been a long time since I’ve had the company of a woman, and I would very much like to hear about what brought you here.”

Isla looked back at him. Her head tilted a little as she appraised the man. It did not go unnoticed that he asked if she would join him, not if they would join him. Was it intentional? She did not want to be separated from Alysander.

“As long as the offer to dine with you is for my husband and I, we accept. Otherwise I am sorry but I must decline. I do not wish to be apart from him. I am sure you can understand.”

Isla looked around the camp as if emphasizing why she, a woman would not wish to be alone in this place.

LockandKey · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **LockandKey** on Sat Oct 26, 2013 11:20 am

The laid chuckled good naturedly, the smile never leaving his face. “Tents are such small spaces, Mrs. McClannahan, as I’m sure you know. I’m not sure my humble dwelling would comfortably accommodate three people.” He saw her gesture around at the camp, caught her meaning, and shook his head. “You have my word that no harm will come to you here. You’re under my protection now, at least while you’re in this camp.”

He appraised her with a look of attraction and curiosity. “Are you sure I cannot tempt you?”

SkullsandSlippers · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **SkullsandSlippers** on Sat Oct 26, 2013 11:33 am

Isla’s brows knitted together slightly. This whole thing situation felt like a test though she had no idea what she was being tested about. Her fingers wrapped themselves in Alysander’s shirt and she looked up at him.

If they could be alone, just long enough for her to ask him what she should do she would have felt so much better. That was not the case.

“I do not wish to insult your hospitality. I have your word that I will be safe and returned to my husband once the meal is concluded then I will go with you.”

Isla turned in Alysander’s arm to face him fully. She drew him to face her. Her hands went to his face, one on each cheek. Isla tilted her face up and his down to her. Her eyes sought his. I will not be long. Please do not leave me here. Her eyes silently begged him.

“I will return shortly.”

Isla rose on tiptoe and planted a soft kiss on his mouth. It felt like something a married couple would do and she wished to reinforce to the laird that she wanted to be returned to Alysander when they were done.

LockandKey · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **LockandKey** on Sat Oct 26, 2013 12:20 pm

Alysander found himself bending to meet her lips in a kiss, but felt shocked by it nonetheless. He quickly erased the shock that showed on his face. If he was pretending to be her husband, a little kiss should not garner any kind of reaction from him.

“I’ll be here,” he told her with a nod, and watched as she left with the handsome, older laird. Alysander was quite sure the man did not have a paternal interest for Isla after all.

“Forgive me, Mrs. MacClannahan, I have not introduced myself.” He was leading her away from the fire around which the four men stood, and politely offered his arm to her. “My name is Nicholas. I’m the Lord of Lochcarron, though my title is currently being contested. I’m sorry that you and your husband were taken captive by my men.” He sighed, rubbing one of his temples. “We’ve had enemies recently posing as travelers infiltrate out camp, slaughtering unsuspecting people, including three women. Our women have since returned to our village where it is safer. We work to keep the war away from them.”

They had reached the tent. Unlike the others around it, which were only tall enough to sit or kneel in, this one was more than tall enough to stand in. It was circular in shape, with a pointed roof. Nicholas pulled back the flap of the door and let Isla in ahead of him. The center pole was wedged deep into the ground in the center of the tent, supporting the center of the conical roof. Furniture had been moved into the tent: a desk covered in papers, with an ink well and quil lying on it’s side, a chair pulled up behind it and another in front. There was a four-poster bed covered in deeply colored, richly embroidered linens. There was also a small table with two chairs, meant for eating. One of his attendants had recently brought in supper and laid it out. There was a platter of sliced lamb and sausages, a loaf of brown bread, a wedge of cheese, a bowl filled with costly, imported oranges and a bottle of wine. The cups on the table were heavy and made of pure silver, etched with pictures of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. Everything in his tent spoke of wealth.

Nicholas poured a cup of wine and handed it to Isla with a smile. It was a deceiving vintage, he knew. It’s taste was light and fresh, which belied it’s strength. He poured a cup for himself as well, and pulled out one of the chairs for Isla to sit. “Did you say you were on your way to see kin?” he asked conversationally. “Where are you traveling to?”

SkullsandSlippers · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **SkullsandSlippers** on Sat Oct 26, 2013 12:37 pm

Isla tried to ignore her body’s reaction as their lips met. She stole a look back over her shoulder at him as she walked towards the laird. He offered her his arm and Isla hesitated for by a moment before gently slipping her arm into his.

She said nothing as he introduced himself and told her about what was going on. She let him lead her through the camp towards the large round tent. When he held open the flap for her she stepped inside and off to the side a little. Her eyes moved around the tent assessing everything. A large bed, table and chairs. He was certainly more established and comfortable than his men.

Isla took the offered cup and slowly sat as he pulled the chair out for her. Only then did she find her voice.

“Thank you Lord Lochcarron. It is unfortunate that you find yourself fighting for your title and that so many are caught up in it.”

She was trembling a little but hid it by lifting the glass to her lips. She looked at the man over the top of the heavy silver goblet. The wine was light on her tongue, not heady like the wine she and Alysander shared.

She swallowed and lowered the glass. Alysander had mentioned their destination. She had no knowledge of the places here but he had told the others at the fire. What did he say....where were we going....

Isla took her time to put the glass on the table. The food smelled delicious.

“My husband and I were travelling to Skye.”

LockandKey · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **LockandKey** on Sat Oct 26, 2013 12:50 pm

The woman was disappointingly quiet, thought Nicholas, nodding his head politely, then taking a sip from his cup. He set it down and gestured to her plate. “Please, help yourself to anything you like.”

He had always enjoyed watching beautiful women, and Isla MacClannahan was particularly enchanting. Her large, dark eyes were luminous, framed by equally dark eyelashes. Her long hair looked touchably soft, though she gave him the strong impression she would not react well to being touched in any manner. She was a bit like a cornered rabbit, he mused. A very beautiful, cornered rabbit. It was a shame she was married.

“Skye is a lovely island,” he said conversationally. “You’re only a few days away, assuming nothing else halts your progress.” He smiled self-deprecatingly. “Again, I must apologize. I can only imagine how inconvenient this has been for you, and frightening as well.”

If only she were not married! Her cheeks were slightly flushed, her lips a naturally ripe, kissable color. Her slim figure was exactly how he prefered, with gentle curves and graceful limbs. Her husband seemed a brute, thought Nicholas. Did he even realize what a treasure he had? I wouldn’t have let her out of my sight, he thought. And certainly not into another man’s tent.

“Mrs. MacClannahan,” he said in a quieter, more intimate tone. He set his cup down and met her eye. “I do not want to embarrass you, but I cannot stop myself from staring at you. I think you may be the fairest creature I’ve ever seen.”

He meant it. He only wished she was not married, and that he had the slimmest of chances with such a woman. If he’d had even the tiniest chance, he would have taken it.

SkullsandSlippers · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **SkullsandSlippers** on Sat Oct 26, 2013 1:27 pm

Isla inhaled slowly as he told her to help herself to whatever she liked. Her eyes scanned the table slowly. She was hungry. Are they feeding Alysander? She reached out, slowly cut a piece of cheese and brought it to her plate. She followed it with a small piece of lamb and then a slice of bread. She settled back in her chair to wait for him to fill his plate.

Her hand went around her silver glass again. Isla looked over the etchings. She did not know who they were supposed to be or what was significant about it but she did recognize that it was very well done. Her finger traced the face of the woman before she lifted it again to her lips. The wine was very good. Isla felt it hit her empty stomach and the warmth quickly spread up her neck and brought a flush to her cheeks.

He was being very understanding, even going so far as to explain that he knew the whole experience must be both inconvenient and frightening to her. Isla felt herself relax a little. His tone was sincere and Isla felt a little less on edge.

She was going to pick up her glass again when his voice dropped to an even softer tone. His eyes met hers across the table and Isla’s breath caught in her throat.

Isla’s cheeks reddened, a blush adding itself to the warmth already brought on by the wine. She pulled her eyes from his, casting them down to her lap. Her breathing grew slightly irregular. She did not know what to do or to say.

Taking a moment to breathe Isla looked up at him through her lashes. He was attractive and she found herself flattered by his words but she could not be swayed from what she needed to do. She needed to get her coat back and for that she needed Alysander. His face flashed in her mind. Her eyes closed briefly.

“Lord Lochcarron.”

Isla opened her eyes again and brought her own dark ones to meet his.

“I am flattered that you would honour me with such kind words. I-I do not know what to say.”

To hide her growing embarrassment Isla took another drink of the wine. Once again it hit her empty stomach. She was feeling a little odd, a bit light headed. She placed the cup down again.

“Perhaps I should go...”

Isla stood slowly.

LockandKey · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **LockandKey** on Sat Oct 26, 2013 1:40 pm

Too soon, Nicholas reprimanded himself. He had scared her away already. His eyes fell downward, disappointment wrenching his stomach. He’d felt overcome, overwhelmed, and instantly drawn to her. He couldn’t have helped it if he’d tried. Now she was standing, trying to get away from him. He’d ruined it, he thought. No, I never had a chance to begin with.

“Isla,” he said, standing as well. He took a long stride toward her, erasing the distance between them. He put his hands on her shoulders- the touch was firm and purposeful, but it was not a touch that would keep her there against her will. “I’m sorry I’ve made you uncomfortable. Please, stay.”

SkullsandSlippers · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **SkullsandSlippers** on Sat Oct 26, 2013 1:54 pm

He came towards her. Isla watched him as he approached. She flinched ever so slightly as he placed his hands on her shoulders. It was not overly firm, he did not grip her as if he was restraining her but she was certainly aware of his touch.

Her chest rose and fell steadily. He was standing so close. She licked her lips lightly.

Her voice was low. “I will stay Lord Lochcarron.”

It was then that Isla realized she was staring into his eyes for longer than was likely seemly for a married woman. She drew her gaze downwards.

“It is fine. I will stay and not insult your hospitality.”

Her heart was pounding in her chest. Her hair fell, partially covering her face.

"Please, you should eat before it grows cold."

He was standing so close and Isla felt fuzzy and confused. I need to eat something. I feel like I am going to fall over. Again her mind flashed to Alysander and she wondered if he was finally eating.

LockandKey · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **LockandKey** on Sat Oct 26, 2013 2:10 pm

One hand slowly left her shoulder and found her cheek. Her fair skin was soft and smooth. He stroked her skin with his thumb. “Do not stay if it’s only to be polite,” he told her in a hushed tone. So close, he could smell her soft, womanly scent, and though subtle is was heady. “I want you to stay because you want to be here.”

The hand on her shoulder traveled slowly down her arm, his fingers caressing the skin of her upper arm, the inside of her elbow, the delicate pale skin of her wrist. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles.

SkullsandSlippers · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **SkullsandSlippers** on Sat Oct 26, 2013 2:26 pm

His hand was on her cheek. A thumb caressed her skin lightly. Isla closed her eyes. His other hand moved down her arm and he lifted her hand to his lips. Her mouth went dry. Her knees felt as if they might give out. What is wrong with me?

She wanted to step in closer and yet she wanted to leave the tent. Alysander was waiting for her. Alysander. You are supposed to be married to him.

Nicholas’ presence so close made her feel confused and the wine did not help. She forced herself to focus on Alysander, on the way he had protected her and the fact that she needed to get her coat back. There was more there as she thought on the feel of his hands on her waist has he helped her on and off the horse or the way he pulled her close in the bed.

Isla looked up at Nicholas. Her voice was low and throaty.

“Lord Lochcarron, Nicholas I am a married woman. My husband is waiting for me to return from my meal with you. Perhaps that is what we should do. Have our meal so that you may rest and I may return to him.”

She was shaking and felt faint. Her breathing grew slightly more rapid the longer she looked at him. “Please.”

Isla once again licked her lips lightly. Her rapid breathing was leaving them dry. He wanted her to want to stay. She did not know how to respond to that.

"I would like to enjoy the meal that has been laid out for us."

LockandKey · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **LockandKey** on Sat Oct 26, 2013 2:37 pm

“Lord Lochcarron, Nicholas I am a married woman. My husband is waiting for me to return from my meal with you. Perhaps that is what we should do. Have our meal so that you may rest and I may return to him. Please. I would like to enjoy the meal that has been laid out for us."

Nicholas looked down at her intently, then slowly let his hands fall away from her. “Of course,” he replied, hiding his disappointment behind a smile of hospitality. “Anything you wish.”

He beckoned her back to her seat and returned to his own, taking lamb and bread and cheese. He refilled Isla’s cup, then his own, and took a long drink from it, letting the alcohol relax him. “I’m very ill-behaved tonight,” he laughed, as if the entire thing had been a joke. “You’re a married woman, I know that. Still, a man can dream, can’t he?”

SkullsandSlippers · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **SkullsandSlippers** on Sat Oct 26, 2013 3:00 pm

Something about the way he looked down at her made Isla’s pulse race. He smiled at her and she found herself once again confused and unsure. She had thought that reminding him that she was ‘married’ was a good idea and yet she felt oddly disappointed when he let her hand go.

Nicholas moved away from her and Isla remained where she stood for a moment. She watched as he refilled her cup. Food before more wine.

Isla sat down once again. Her eyes were on him as he took a drink and then laughed the whole thing off. Much like the sting she felt at Alysander’s relief that they had not made love the previous night, Nicholas’ attempt to joke about what had just happened brought on a similar feeling. One moment men make you feel somehow desired and wanted and the next they act as if they were simply pretending.

Her eyes grew stormy as she began to pick at her food. The lamb was tender and the cheese sharp.

Finally she looked up from her plate to Nicholas. “Men’s dreams often cause them to act in a way they are not aware of. No offense was made.”

Isla picked up her slice of bread and began to slowly eat it. Her eyes now moved about the tent. Her bread was returned to her plate and her glass made its way to her lips. She took a drink of the wine. This time there was food in her stomach and she did not instantly feel its warmth hit her.

“May I ask why your title is contested Lord Lochcarron?”

Isla lowered her glass. Dark eyes once again fell on him. Her head tilted, her hair fell from her shoulder like a dark waterfall. She watched his hands. A shudder ran through her as she was reminded of the way he had held her cheek. His thumb had been so gentle as it caressed her.

Her cheeks flushed and Isla pulled herself from the memory by taking another drink of her wine.

LockandKey · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **LockandKey** on Sat Oct 26, 2013 3:28 pm

“Men’s dreams often cause them to act in a way they are not aware of. No offense was made.”

Nicholas could only smile at that. “Oh, I was aware,” he told her. “And you shouldn’t forgive me so lightly or I might be tempted to try my hand again.”

The two ate and drank, and Nicholas watched Isla all the while, his eyes crinkled at the corners as he let himself sit back and enjoy her company. She had started to open up a little, perhaps due to the wine, and he was enjoying the conversation as much as her physical appeal. Almost as much, he thought.

“May I ask why your title is contested Lord Lochcarron?”

Nicholas nodded. “Of course. I’m the illegitimate son of the last Lord of Lochcarron. The married lord met my mother while in Wales and one thing led to another. I was his first and only child. His wife in Scotland, for whatever reason, never bore children. When my father died, the title was passed on to me.”

He took another sip of wine, looking at Isla over the rim of the cup, trying to guess how she’d take it that he was a bastard lord with questionable claim to his title. “At the time, I was the only option, you see. My father’s younger brother- my uncle- had died only the year before of illness. He had a son, but the boy was still just a babe. It was inconceivable to give the title to a child. I became the bastard Lord of Lochcarron, and the title was never questioned until recently.”

He set his cup down and sighed. “My nephew has come of age and challenged my title, claiming I have no right to it as an illegitimate child. Enough people agree with him that a dispute has started, and that is where you find us now.”

SkullsandSlippers · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **SkullsandSlippers** on Sat Oct 26, 2013 3:45 pm

Isla was slightly shocked as he told her not to forgive him so lightly. Part of her hoped he would try again. What are you thinking?

She focused on the conversation instead of other possibilities.

Isla lifted her glass to her lips reflecting his own actions as he drank. When he placed his cup down on the table she took one more sip before doing the same. She was beginning to feel lightheaded again. The wine was making her warm and overly relaxed. Isla picked up the bread once more, finishing her slice.

“All of this fighting because a young man has decided it is his right to be lord. Men are strange creatures.”

Her voice had an almost distance quality to it.

“It is a shame that you must fight your own people. I know so little on how clans work but I do know that you seem to fight more than you do anything else.”

Her fingers lifted the cheese to her mouth and ate it. Her eyes on him as she did so.

“Does it really matter so that you are...illegitimate? Would not it matter more that you are a good man?”

Isla frowned. Perhaps men cared more for such thing. She looked at him now through her dark lashes as she lifted a piece of lamb to her lips.

“In the end what if this young man, your nephew is a terrible lord? Won’t the people regret all this fighting and death?”

LockandKey · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **LockandKey** on Sat Oct 26, 2013 4:14 pm

“All of this fighting because a young man has decided it is his right to be lord. Men are strange creatures,” said Isla after she finished her bread. The quality of her voice had changed slightly, the effect of the alcohol, he was sure. He could feel it himself, and went to the side table by the four poster bed where a pitcher of cool water sat. He brought it to the table and filled both their cups with the clear liquid. If he allowed her to stave her thirst with strong wine, she’d be sick in no time.

“That’s a very astute observation,” he noted. “We are strange creatures. Some of us go after the things that we want wholeheartedly, even when it seems that thing may be unreachable.” He reached across the table and reached for her hand, turning it over so that the back of her hand rested on the wooden surface, her palm exposed. Nicholas ran his fingers softly across her palm, idly up each of her fingers. “Sometimes, the harder a thing is to attain, the more impossible, the more we want it. Strange creatures indeed.”

“It is a shame that you must fight your own people. I know so little on how clans work but I do know that you seem to fight more than you do anything else.”

Nicholas shook his head. “I disagree. You found us in a wartime, but I’ve been Lord of Lochcarron for thirty years, and this is the first time there has been war. We do not like to fight our own people, but we must fight for what we believe in, and what’s ours.”

His fingers stroked her wrist, then from her wrist to her elbow, his fingertips tracing lightly up the inside of her arm. He was leaning toward her, over the little table that separated them.

“Does it really matter so that you are...illegitimate? Would not it matter more that you are a good man?”

The beautiful woman before him was frowning, trying to puzzle together a conundrum that was not easy to sort out. “In the end, we are not Romans, and this is not a democracy. If the best man were chosen, the chances are slim that it would be the son of the previous lord, isn’t it? On the other hand, I think if people were left to decide who the lord of Lochcarron should be, with an indefinite number of possibilities, war would never cease.”

“In the end what if this young man, your nephew is a terrible lord? Won’t the people regret all this fighting and death?”

Nicholas smiled, enjoying the conversation. She was curious, yet seemed to know surprisingly little about how such matters worked. Perhaps where she came from, there had never been war, at least in her time. Perhaps she’d never before had a reason to question the system. Her questions were intelligent, however, and seemed to get right to the heart of the matter.

“He is very young, only nineteen. I think he is too young for such a title, though admittedly I was not much older than he when I received it. I have no children, no wife. When I die, if I have produced no heir, the title will pass on to him. I have invited him to learn what the duties are of a good lord, and how to manage things so that people do not starve in years when rains wash away our crops, how to settle disputes and punish criminals. He’s very hotheaded, that boy, and he refused my offer.”

Nicholas looked into Isla’s dark, lambent eyes. “I believe I’m the rightful Lord Lochcarron, and I’ll fight for it.”

SkullsandSlippers · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **SkullsandSlippers** on Sat Oct 26, 2013 4:34 pm

She watched him as he crossed to the bed. At first she was unsure about what he might be doing but when he returned with the pitcher she smiled. Isla picked up her cup and took a deep drink of the water.

Nicholas took her hand. Isla did not stop him. His fingers were soft and gentle as they touched first her palk and then her fingers. He talked and his fingers moved to her wrist and then to her elbow. Isla’s heart was pounding in her chest. She was not entirely sure the wine was the sole cause of her desire for his fingers to travel higher on her arm or the desire for him to fully lean across the table and take her cheek in hand again.

Isla willed herself to concentrate on his words. She smiled as he mentioned the boy, his nephew being hot headed.

“Those of us with tempers often do not agree with anyone who might present a different opinion than our own. We often feel we are right no matter if we are not and tend not to listen until after we have cooled down.”

Isla leaned forward a little on the table. Her free hand, the one he was not touching went under her chin. “I believe you are lord here but my opinion matters not. You have and intelligence and an understanding nature that leads me to believe you are likely a good lord as well. Thirty years with no war and you leading them shows just that. The boy is foolish not to take you up on the offer.”

Her smile fell away as she looked at him critically for a moment.

“Why have you never married?”

Her eyebrow raised just a little. She felt more relaxed, her thoughts coming easier to her lips.

“Was there never a woman you wanted? Never someone worth attaining?”

LockandKey · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **LockandKey** on Sat Oct 26, 2013 4:54 pm

Isla was looking at him critically, as if studying him would reveal the answers to her questions. “Why have you never married?” she asked frankly. “Was there never a woman you wanted? Never someone worth attaining?”

Now it was Nicholas’s turn to study her. She had her chin resting in her hand, a relaxed, almost dreamy smile on her lips, lips he desperately wanted to taste. She was leaning forward and the tops of her pale breasts were just visible over the top of her dress. His fingers were stroking the inside of her arm, but now they roamed higher to the top of her arm, then he let the back of his hand trace the side of her breast. “Not until now,” he replied. He stood from the table and went around it to stand by her side. He’d wanted to before, but now he allowed himself to put his hands in her smooth, lustrous hair, feeling the softness of her locks. He bent lower, put his hands on her slim waist and firmly pulled her up and against him, and before she could stop him he lowered his head and captured her mouth in a kiss.

War and the Sea

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