Lara chuckled. “Have ye noticed Mam is a bit on the plump side? She’s been impressed with my recipes ever since I was a wee lassie and was trying new things here beside Cook.”
He grinned. “Aye, I have noticed. But she’s no’ exactly rotund, just nicely curved.” His gaze dropped to her breasts, then lower, and Lara didn’t even mind. “I’m no’ the only one who’s noticed.”
Well, that was confusing. “What?” Had he been referring to her mother, or someone else noticing Lara?
His gaze snapped back up to hers, and to her surprise, he flushed slightly. His attention dropped to the piece of chicken in his hands, and he pretended fascination with it when he blurted, “Yer mother, I mean.”
“What about my mother?” He’d been admiring her mother’s curves?
“Moira’s a fine-looking woman, and I’m just saying—”
Lara slammed the remains of her chicken to the plate. “Ye have been admiring Mam’s bits? Aye, her tits are bigger than most, but she practically raised ye and—”
She noticed the look on his face appeared horrified and it caused her to snap her lips closed, biting down on her reprimand.
“Moira? Me? Nay!” Frantically, he shook his head. “Da is the one admiring her!”
‘Twas time for Lara’s eyes to flash wide. “What?”
“Ye havenae noticed?” Alistair blew out a breath, which was accompanied with a half laugh, half relieved sigh, and he shook his head. “Sometimes, when Da thinks we’re no’ watching, he and Moira share a little smile. And when she’s bustling around, keeping everyone happy at dinner time, ye watch him. He’s watching her.”
Was it true? “Mam’s…a fine-looking woman.”
His grin flashed quickly, teasingly. “Aye, she is. But she’s no’ the one I’m noticing.”
This time, Lara didn’t blush, even though she knew exactly who he was speaking of this time. Nay, this wasn’t the moment to blush, this was the moment to celebrate.
She’d spent years lusting after this man, caring for him, worrying about him, all from afar. She’d even spied on him when he didn’t know it. But now, finally, he was noticing her.
So her heart was even lighter now, when she picked up her piece of chicken once more and smiled in what she hoped was a coy manner, and not a I have something stuck in my eyelash way.
“ ’Tis an interesting proposition that yer father might be noticing my mam.”
“I’m full of interesting propositions.”
“Oh, aye?” She was smirking as she swallowed her bite of the delicious new recipe. “Like what?”
“Like how the sun is stuck up there in the sky. And the best way to rotate crops. And what causes thunder.”
Chuckling, she leaned forward. “I want to hear them all.”
‘Twas the best morning she could ever recall.
Chapter 5
“And where are ye running off to this fine morning?”
The way Lara’s expression lit up with joy when she realized Alistair had been the one to ask, made him glad he’d stopped her. But how could he not? He’d just finished dropping his gelding off at the stables and had been heading across the courtyard when he’d seen her hurrying toward the village with a basket looped over her arm.
Of course he was going to call out to her. Seeing her—seeing her smile—was what he found himself living for these days.
She turned and was waiting expectantly for him, and he was happy to jog over to her. The morning ride had left him feeling relaxed—more relaxed than he’d been a sennight ago—and he smiled when he reached her.
“Good morrow, Lara,” he offered softly.
She tilted her head back, his smile not dimming. “Good morrow, Alistair. Ye’re looking at ease today. Still thinking about my chicken?”
She was teasing him?
Feeling bold, Alistair snagged her free hand, bringing it to his lips there in front of all the clan’s wagging tongues. “Yer chicken was delicious, but ‘tis ye I’ve been thinking about, lass.”
He made her blush, which caused his smile to grow wicked, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she cocked a bold brow as her own lips twitched. “I’ve been thinking about ye as well. And about the menu. And ways to get ye to relax. And the decorations for the celebration. And yer lips. And pigs.”
Her list made him blink, but he didn’t release her hand. My lips? But instead, he cleared his throat and managed, “Pigs?”
“I’m on my way to the village to run some errands. I need to visit the butcher and see what he can offer us in terms of meat.”
Nodding now, and absolutely certain he wasn’t going to miss the chance to spend time with her—even if it did involve pigs, it might also involve lips and ways to make him relax—Alistair moved her hand to his arm and began to stroll toward the gates. As if it were completely natural that he’d take time away from his work to escort her to market.
“Is this for the celebration? I thought ye were planning on chicken for the menu.”
“I’m still considering our options.”
Nodding, he offered, “I’m looking forward to hearing all about them.”
“Really?” She glanced sharply at him, a little furrow between her brows. “Ye want to discuss the menu?”
He shrugged, focusing on taking shorter steps so she could keep up. He didn’t want to rush this, or their time together would be over much too soon. “Why would I no’?”
“Well, ye are so busy, and ye already spent yesterday morning with me.”
And it had been one of the best mornings of his life.
Aye, he was more relaxed now than he’d been a sennight ago, and ‘twas not because of his morning ride. ‘Twas because of her, and the way she pushed him to take time for himself.
“Ye cannae think I’d rather be stuck inside my solar going over charts and maps, than out here in the fresh air with a lovely lass on my arm?”
Another blush, which he found made him feel proud as they strolled toward the market.
“But ye have more important things to do.”
He thought of the correspondence waiting for him on his desk, and of her suggestion to give it to Kiergan to take care of. He thought of the ledgers and household accounts. He thought of the work he needed to do…and he thought of the woman at his side.
“Nay, lass, I dinnae,” he murmured.
The way her steps faltered, the way she tilted her head, just slightly away from him so he could see the tempting line of her jaw, told him she’d been affected by his confession. His lips twitched.
“Hello, Mistress Lara!” came the call from across the market square, and she seemed to remember herself. He watched as she directed her attention toward the plump woman hauling a heavy-looking washing basket.
“Have a good day, Gladys!” Lara called, and when the candle-maker shouted a greeting, she laughingly offered one in return.
Alistair didn’t release his hold on her, which meant she couldn’t wave, but he was amazed by how well she knew everyone they saw. He’d spent years working for these people, his clan, but he wasn’t certain he could name them all. Some, the merchants in particular, he recognized. But Lara knew everyone.