Alaina's Promise Part 15

Chapter Eleven.

The happy chattering of ten-year-old Molly and little Willie drifted through the open cottage door as Alaina walked toward it. But thoughts of Torin filled her mind-his appearance, the strange sensation she felt in watching him, and his uncharacteristic display of spontaneity.

The children's bright, expectant faces peered up at her as she entered the door. Little redheaded Molly, the more timid of the two, dropped her gaze and blushed when Alaina smiled back at her.

"Ah, we've just got the food ready," Mary Kate told her. "How are they doing?"

"Yes...quite well," Alaina said as she put the bucket back in its previous position by the door. She was glad for the moment to be able to hide her blushes from the family's curious stares. "Torin was a little...hot."

The image of him shaking beads of water from his dark curls sent her heart fluttering again and made her feel like a fool. She sank down onto a nearby chair, but not before she saw the knowing look that pa.s.sed between Maggie and Mary Kate.

"Hmmm, well, the children are pitching in now and apparently the news has traveled fast and furious," Mary Kate announced with a pleased smile. "We should have a grand lot of kin here this evening. Maggie and I will take some food out to the lads. Then we'll all have our turns in the tub before the company starts to arrive."

The meat and vegetables had been placed in a large kettle over the hearth to simmer until mealtime. Molly swept the floors and young Willie brought water back to wash down every inch of the woodwork. Before the afternoon was over, the rustic little house shone to rival any of the southern plantation homes in which Alaina had spent most of her life. The children and her father working at her side, she felt an overwhelming sense of well-being as everything fell into place for the ceili.

The pleasant odors of warming stew, the turf burning in the hearth and the sweet fresh scent of a bundle of wildflowers that the children had gathered filled the cottage. Yellow, white and crimson blossoms spilled forth from two different jars on the table, brightening the room with their vibrant colors.

Mary Kate beamed with pride and patted Alaina's arm affectionately. "The men are almost done! 'Tis a grand thing when so many hands make work light. Now I've got some water warmed up for you out in the barn-Maggie and I have had our turns. You can bathe next. It won't be a hot bath, but 'tis better than the turlough and much more private."

Alaina was saved from responding as Willie marched in the door and announced with a pleased smile that the tub was ready. Ten minutes later, she immersed her tired, aching body into tepid water with a sigh of relief. The pungent odors of manure, hay and horseflesh merged with the heather-scented water-Mary Kate had added her own mixture of perfumed oil for Alaina's pleasure. Soon she felt as if she were afloat both mentally and physically as she reveled in the odd a.s.sortment of little joys she found in everyday life in this country. Why had such things been so lacking for her at Aveleen?

It left her wondering. Wealth and luxury were once abundant in her life and yet she had still longed for adventure and romance. Always something had been missing from the opulence. Then, when it had all but been taken away, she still had not missed the finery and the trappings of plantation life. Before the war, her dresses were made of the finest cloth at least twice a year by one of the best dressmakers in Virginia. The war had come, and Alaina then had to make do with having her old garments redone to look more stylish. Though hoop skirts had been put to rest and the bustle had come into fashion, Alaina had made no concession for the latest update in vanity. There was not one bustle to be found in her entire wardrobe.

Eventually she had even learned to do the sewing and altering herself. Never did it occur to her to mind. Out of necessity, these small concessions had been made and she rather enjoyed the independent feeling it gave her, the sense of pride in accomplishment.

Fine food and linens were not missed, nor were the fancy parties and b.a.l.l.s. What she had missed was the security of the love she had once been given by her brothers and Nanny Rose. Instead of binding together against the enemy, Patrick Ryan's clan had retreated from one another. They had built walls and shrunk away from the very people from whom they should have gathered strength. Instead they had suffered and mourned alone. If it hadn't been for James...

She squelched the thought as it brought with it a momentary pang of guilt. She sat with her knees poking out from the surface of the bath, the water lapping against the upper curves of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. With one hand she pulled the pins out of her upswept hair and unwound the long rope of auburn tresses. She then slid her bottom down to the opposite end of the tub and sank her torso deep beneath the water past her shoulders. With a little maneuvering, she could then tip her head backward as she held onto the metal sides and dunk her hair into the water. It flowed into her ears and over her face. As she rose from its depths and sat up, she felt rivulets cascade down her shoulders and back.

How she loved the water. Bathing, swimming, or sitting beside the creek that ran near Aveleen were among her dearest pleasures. Every sound and smell a.s.sociated with water seemed to rekindle a memory and soothe her soul. She had a sudden urge to run headlong into the ocean stark naked and swim until her muscles ached and her lungs burned for air. Her father had once called her his little fish but it had been years since she had actually been able to go swimming.

Sighing at the futility of such yearnings, Alaina stared at the barn wall and the muslin dress and undergarments that hung there on wooden pegs. She found herself envying her cousin and her gentle giant of a husband. There was no doubt that if the couple had faced similar tragedies and trials as the Ryans had, they would have emerged strong, and triumphant and even more deeply devoted to one another. Another, sadder sigh escaped her lips and she thought she heard a faint creak of the barn door behind her.

Alaina turned her head to smile over her shoulder, thinking Mary Kate or Maggie had come to order her out of the tub lest she pruned, but the expression froze and blood drained from her face as her gaze met Torin's. He had taken a few steps into the barn and stood on the hay strewn dirt floor staring at her. The first expression in his eyes was disbelief and surprise. Then a warm flame of desire flickered and blazed in the depths of gray-green.

No words were spoken. Alaina found she couldn't move. He stood there, mesmerized, as his gaze moved down her shoulders and back. For her part, Alaina admired every inch and nuance of his exposed chest with rapt fascination.

She waited for him to speak. She could feel the return of the blood that had drained from her face. It seemed as if her veins were being infused with fire and a deafening pounding filled her ears. Then she realized that it was the beat of her own heart.

His feet seemed rooted to the floor. He had been deep in thought when he entered the barn, his mind filled with images of Alaina. He was thinking of the desire in her dark eyes that afternoon in the pasture. He recognized the look. It was the same she had in his cottage that night when he rescued her from the Burren. The la.s.s was becoming very much a woman with all the pa.s.sions she had previously denied herself. The sight of him had stirred something within her and he wondered if she was equipped to handle these new feelings.

Now her pure, silken flesh lay exposed to his l.u.s.tful gaze. How he wanted to join her in that tub. Better yet, he wanted to drag her out of it again and lay her down in the fresh hay. His mind filled with images that left him both breathless and aching.

His last coherent thought was to order himself to leave, but his feet would not obey the command. He wasn't sure he could feel them anymore as all blood seemed to pool in other extremities. It was all he could do to keep from sinking to his knees.

She shivered again and the nerves between his brain and limbs seemed to connect at last. Torin found the strength to turn away from the glistening beauty. He trudged out the door, each movement a ch.o.r.e. His legs felt leaden. It seemed a small miracle when he found they had somehow carried the rest of him to the turlough.

Without thinking, he flung himself full-length into the shallow, icy water. He thought he heard a distant cry of surprise. The shock of the wet cold against his heated skin knocked the breath out of him. It was a painful, yet pleasant awakening that brought his careening thoughts into focus and quenched the raging furnace within. He let his body float in the freezing pool, and held his breath until he thought his lungs would burst.

Sputtering and groaning like a wild beast, he rose from the water and sc.r.a.ped the dripping hair back from his face. This would not do for long-he could not go about jumping into lakes or dousing himself with water every time he felt the urge to make love to Alaina.

I'll wind up drowning inside of a week.

She was his own Achilles' heel. Torin knew something had to be done before he lost control and did something they would both regret. A woman in love could easily lose her head, and her sense if the man coaxed enough.

He knew her defenses could be broken down, Torin could see it in her wondrous eyes. She might not love him, but she wanted him. Yet, he didn't wish to take advantage of her innocence that way. He didn't want her that way. Everything had to be right between them. Torin knew he could only make Alaina his in body if she were first his in spirit as his wife.

As he sloshed out of the turlough he almost ran into Mary Kate. She tossed a blanket over his shoulders with a broad grin as she turned and waddled back to the cottage. He stood and stared after her, vaguely aware of the sound of laughter somewhere nearby that left him questioning what was so funny.

Chapter Twelve.

He somehow managed to look at Alaina without l.u.s.tful thoughts filling his mind hours later as dozens of people began to fill the small O'Malley cottage and yard. Tables had been set up for food and liquor, both of which were had in abundance as the guests all brought something to share.

With so many about, it seemed a safe time to approach her now-if not to apologize, at least to smooth over the unease that now hung between them like a thick bank of fog.

"'Tis a fine night for a ceili," Torin noted as he stood near her. The familiar scent of roses hung about her, but now lilacs added to the mix. He longed to draw her into his arms and simply inhale the very essence until it became a part of him.

"Yes, it is," she replied, her hands twisting in the folds of her long skirt. "Are they always this well attended?"

He waved a hand at the thickening crowd. "Depends on the reason. I suppose meeting an American cousin and seeing the Ryan again plays a big part."

She chewed on her bottom lip and his breath caught. "I hope I don't disappoint them."

Soon he was lost in the depths of her gaze and the attraction he couldn't deny. Did he see a spark of desire in those eyes? He could only hope so, for he feared he'd fallen too deep to climb his way out again.

"Disappoint? Ah, that you could never do," he murmured. Her cheeks turned a most becoming shade of pink and she seemed at a loss for words, but was soon saved the trouble of further conversation.

"Torin, lad!" Colm Morrison called from the other side of the room where the musicians had gathered. "Will you be playing with us now?"

Her eyes widened. "You play an instrument?"

He wasn't sure whether to be offended or to laugh at her shock. "Aye, the wooden flute," he told her. "'Tis a talent pa.s.sed from father to son in my family."

"Oh."

"You seem surprised."

"I am, a little."

"And why is that?"

She waved a hand in the air. "It's just that...you don't seem like a musician."

He raised a brow. "How does a musician look then?"

"More...I-I mean less..." She faltered and seemed to search for words that wouldn't come. "Never mind."

Torin turned to hide a smile and headed toward the makeshift stage. The other men grinned their welcome as he took the flute offered and stood where they motioned.

A moment later, the fiddler set the beat and Torin and rest joined in the song. The familiar melody washed over him, his fingers working as if they had minds of their own.

He was seldom aware of the audience when he played, but tonight Torin could sense one pair of eyes watching from the crowd. He knew it was her, and the notion set his heart at a faster tempo.

The first song was one to get the hands clapping, feet tapping. The next designed to pull the revelers onto the dance floor.

Many songs later, Torin felt the weight of her stare upon him and glanced up to catch Alaina's gaze with his own. She smiled at him shyly from the other side of the room. As he returned the gesture with a nod of his head, he was annoyed to see his old friend, Sean Riordan approach the la.s.s. Torin began to play the next dance, but faltered a bit as Sean took Alaina by the hand and led her to the middle of the dance floor. He watched over the heads of the other couples as she shook her head, glancing around at the others self-consciously.

Sean leaned closer, talking in her ear and Torin's fingers tightened on the flute. She shrugged, gave a small nod, held both hands out to the other man and began to dance hesitantly. After a few steps, she seemed to relax and even laughed at something Sean said.

Torin felt his chest tighten as anger filled him.

"Let up on the flute, lad," Colm said in his ear. "You're near to breaking 'er in half."

Snapped from his jealous haze, Torin smiled ruefully and joined back in the spirited number. All was well. He could deal with Alaina dancing a jig with his old friend. After all, it was nothing more than a dance.

Then the song ended, the dancers clapped and Colm motioned for a slow song. Torin clenched his jaw as Sean drew Alaina into his arms. It took every ounce of self-control to keep from leaping off the stage to push through the crowd and lay the other man flat.

Instead he played his part, though he knew from the looks sent him by the other musicians, he must have missed a note or two. When the dance ended, he watched as Alaina pulled away from Sean and they both clapped with the others.

Colm leaned toward him, his back to the audience. "Take a break, lad, and claim your turn with the la.s.s."

Torin frowned at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means while you've got your fists clutched like a man wantin' blood, the music is sufferin'. And so are you. Go get your woman away from Riordan and save the room some grief."

"I-"

"Go."

Torin handed the flute to Colm and leapt off the stage. When he spotted Alaina standing at the edge of the crowd, Sean still hovered over her with little s.p.a.ce between.

Jealous anger began to boil and the crowd seemed to part like the Red Sea before Torin as he stalked toward the couple. Though he could hear the murmurs and whispers in his wake, he paid no attention. His goal was to reach his woman before Sean could set another hand upon her.

"Torin," Sean said with a broad grin as he approached. "The band sounds smooth tonight, even though you seem a might out of practice, old man."

Alaina glanced between them, her dark eyes wide. "I thought you sounded wonderful," she said.

"'Tis your opinion I value more then this old scoundrel's," Torin a.s.sured her, his tone even.

"Ah, listen to himself, calling me the scoundrel!" Sean exclaimed. "I think I hear a bit of jealousy there, O'Brien. You wouldn't begrudge me a dance with the lovely colleen, would you now?"

"Nay, but you've danced more than once and I'm thinking her attentions are wanted elsewhere."

"By you?"

"Aye."

Sean shook his head. "Now 'tis only fair to warn the la.s.s of your two left feet. She may wind up with a devil of a limp should she take your hand."

"That would be a far sight better than listening to you talk of yourself all night."

"But I'm such an interesting fellow."

Torin shook his head and turned to Alaina. "Would you dance with me?"

She glanced down at her hands folded at her waist. "I'm not a very good dancer."

"Nonsense, you did right well with a good partner," Sean said and it was all Torin could do not to plant his fist in his gloating, grinning face.

"I'd be honored if you'd dance with me," he said to Alaina instead, and held out a hand in invitation.

She laid her hand in his. "Of course I'll dance with you, if you don't mind me trodding on your feet a bit."

"You'll be fine," Torin said, unable to hide the smile that seemed to fill his whole heart. "If Sean says you're a good dancer, then I'd wager he's right. The lad is full of himself, but he takes the dance very seriously."

They moved as one across the dirt floor, but he couldn't quite get her to look into his eyes. He needed to see into hers-to discover if she might be feeling the same things he was. The song wore on and blended into another. Alaina started to pull away with a practiced thanks, but he would have none of it.

"Another?" he asked, capturing her gaze and this time holding it.

"All right." She sounded a bit breathless, her eyes bright, cheeks rosy. She had to be the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

"Torin," Sean called to him from the sidelines. Probably wanting another turn with Alaina, but he was not disposed to give him one so readily.

He ignored his friend and danced with her again, another waltz that allowed him to hold her fast in his arms. He had a feeling that Colm chose the tunes to further his quest. She moved with him as if they'd been dancing this way forever, her gaze transfixed to the center of his chest.

"You're a vision tonight," he told her. Her dark eyes met his and she smiled.

"Thank you." Alaina cleared her throat. "So are you-I mean, you look very handsome."

Torin bit his tongue to keep from laughing. "Thank you."

He'd spent much time in the company of Sean and Tom O'Malley, both of them gave him quite an earful about his refusing to marry such a lovely woman. Sean seemed almost delighted in the situation-too delighted. Something in Sean's manner made Torin feel a bit more protective of the woman in his arms. He knew the other man would take her from him with no qualms on the marrow. But the thought of losing her to another man made him ache as if someone had cut out his very heart.

"The music is wonderful," she said, raising her voice to be heard above the din. "I quite enjoyed your playing."

"Thank you," he replied, unable to keep himself from staring at her delicate features. She was so very lovely.