“All on yer own?” asked Laird MacLagain.
At that, Jonet laughed nervously. Her eyes darted to Matthew, then back to her father. “Well, I have to admit that I got a little help. I dinnae think I would be able to do it on me own.”
“I daenae doubt it,” Dougal murmured. He was eyeing the cakes as if he could not trust them.
Jo
net narrowed her eyes. “Ye daenae think they look good, Dougal?”
“On the contrary, they look too good. But I suppose how they taste is what really matters.” Without waiting for a response, he plucked one of the cakes from the tray and bit into it. Everyone seemed to stare at him with bated breath.
When he took too long for Jonet’s liking, she pressed impatiently, “Well? What do ye think?”
“I think…” Dougal made a show of swallowing, then grinning broadly. “These are one of the best cakes I’ve had in a long while. Ye really outdid yerself with this one, Jonet.”
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than Laird MacLagain scooped up a couple cakes into his large palm. Jonathan picked up a few as well, but he said nothing.
“Hold on, come now!” Matthew protested when he saw they were taking it all. “Leave some for me.”
“Actually, Matthew,” Jonet spoke up. “I have a special batch just for ye. But ye cannae have it right now.”
“I cannae?”
“Nay, there is somewhere we must go for now.” Jonet rested the tray on a side table and then returned to Matthew’s side. She grinned up at him, and, to his surprise, she tucked her arm into his. “I’d like ye to follow me, if you’d please.”
“I thought ye two already went out for the day,” Jonathan spoke up. He munched slowly on his cake; his eyes unreadable.
“And we will be going out again,” Jonet spoke firmly. “Is there something ye need me for?”
He slowly shook his head, casting his gaze outside. “Nay.”
“Very well then.”
Matthew did not get the chance to decipher what had just happened before Jonet began whisking him away. He did not miss, however, the pleased looks of the Laird and Dougal.
He kept a hand on his goblet though, to discard of it when he could.
Chapter 18
“Do ye intend to tell me where we are goin’ now?”
The wind tousled Jonet’s hair, blowing annoying strands into her face. She brushed it aside, trying to keep a hold on the basket she had tucked into the crook of her arm. With a wide grin, she looked over at Matthew, who was regarding her with raised brows in question.
“Ye daenae need to worry,” she spoke airily. “I am nae takin’ ye away to some secluded spot. I only thought it would be nice to take a trip down to the loch. It’s been a while after all.”
“Ah, I see. And here I was secretly hopin’ that ye would take me away to a secret spot to do wicked things to me.”
Jonet blushed furiously at the teasing nature of his voice. Though she knew he said it in jest, she could not help picturing them alone again, skin pressed against each other, lips fused, hands roaming…
Her body responded entirely on its own. Without thinking, she veered Fenella away from him just a little bit, hoping he would not be able to see how oddly she reacted to his words. After all, it was not the first time they would be alone with each other. In fact, most of the time they were alone! Yet now, Jonet could not stop the lascivious thoughts from swarming in her head and she wondered if this was such a good idea after all.
“Jonet?” he called. She glanced at him, then looked back ahead, noting his knowing tone. “Is somethin’ the matter? Are ye thinkin’ about somethin’ ye shouldnae?”
“Why would ye even assume that?” she asked, trying to keep her voice under control.
“It might be because ye are blushin’ so madly that I’m worried ye might catch a fever.”
His words broke through her feverish haze of lust… somewhat. She huffed a laugh, casting a sidelong glance. “Ye would like that very much to be the case, wouldnae ye?”