by Paula Quinn
She loved looking at him, watching his many expressions. She loved this moment of just sitting here with him, listening.
He turned back to the sea while a breeze blew his raven hair off his shoulders. Sina waited while he decided how much of himself he wanted to share with her.
“I was defiant against becomin’ chief,” he began. “My trainin’ started early. I knew how to read when I was five.”
“My,” she whispered, stricken by how wrong she had been about him and his kin.
“I was taught aboot the past and the present—much more knowledge than I ever wanted—or hoped I needed. This king. That king. This duty and that.” He smiled and rolled his eyes as if it was a minor annoyance, when in truth, it was much more. He continued after another moment. “I was strictly trained in both defense and offense. I know how to sow and harvest, how to repair rooftops, doors, and walls, and how to settle arguments fairly. The list is endless and I endured every lesson.”
“And you hated it.”
He turned to her fully and nodded. “I wanted to be oot of doors with my cousins, playin’ in the sun or the snow—but there was never enough time. The more I learned, the more—” He dipped his chin to his chest and laughed a little. “I dinna know why I’m speakin’ of this with ye.”
She didn’t want him to stop. She liked that he was sharing this intimate part of himself with her. It helped her understand a part of who he was.
“Who else can you speak of it with?” Her dimple deepened. “Goliath?”
His smile widened into a low chuckle that fired a spark in her belly. “Goliath knows all my secrets.”
She watched the hound move closer and rest his head on Adam’s leg.
She understood the bond between them in a new way.
“Tell them to me.” Was that her voice, her request whispered on the morning mist?
His steady, searching stare unsettled her. He too doubted the good of his ears. Finally, his eyes flicked back to the sea. “I grew defiant to the responsibility of havin’ so many lives in my hands. Lives of people I hardly knew because, oot of everything I’d been taught as a child, I’d never learned how to care fer many. My life was protected behind Camlochlin’s walls. When the Menzies attacked and my cousins, children like me, fought, I watched everything from a window.”
“Until you broke free of the weight of it.”
“Aye,” he said, his smile deep and curious.
“I finally traded my lessons fer provin’ I’d never become the man they thought I would be. I learned how to do it well.”
“It sounds very lonely.”
“Ye grow accustomed to it,” he said quietly. “But it robbed me of my peace because my faither wouldna make a choice aboot who would be chief. ’Twas as if he had more faith in me than I did and he was just waitin’ fer me to catch up.” He paused and let his gaze sweep toward the castle. His smile, though it wasn’t aimed at her, made her want to draw closer to him, to his body, and deeper. It was as if he was just now coming to the conclusion that his father had been correct to wait.
Sina felt privileged to witness Adam realizing his destiny and accepting it.
He finished his wine, then turned to her. “I’ll be chief. Weddin’ ye sealed my faither’s choice. There’s nothin’ to fight anymore.”
She lowered her gaze. He hadn’t accepted his destiny willingly. He’d been forced because of her. “I’m sorry.”
He reached out his fingertips to her chin and lifted her head until she looked at him. “Dinna be,” he said gently while a breeze fragranced with heather lifted his black hair across his eyes. “In truth, it feels rather good. Fer the last few days, peace…” His gaze on her went soft, intimate. “…and beauty, do stir my blood. I have ye to thank fer that.”
She felt a little breathless and terribly warm from the sun—or from his smile—or his touch. What kind of spell was he weaving over her, stirring something deep inside her that she was sure she’d never felt before? When she was with him, her belly ached with unfamiliar things.
His eyes skipped over her features. His smile coaxed one from her. “Now tell me something aboot ye that no one else knows.”
William knew many things about her life—up until three years ago. She’d written him during his tour but never about anything vexing or that would cause him to return to England.
“When I left Hanover two years ago to serve the queen, a distant cousin of mine, Frederick von Kampen, began to pursue me. He knew I was betrothed, but that didn’t stop him from trying to lay his hands on me.”
Adam’s eyes darkened like the pale sky before a storm. Goliath lifted his furry head, as if sensing it.
“What did he do?” He growled, or perhaps it was Goliath.
“Nothing that harmed me,” she reassured with a tender pat on his knee. The moment she became aware of where her hand was, she moved it away, stretching her fingers as they left him. “I did far more damage to him,” she confessed with a sly smile.
His gaze strayed to her lips. “What did ye do, lass?”
“You must promise never to speak of it again. Do you vow it, Adam?”
“Aye, I vow it.”
“I went to the gardens and gathered a beehive in a burlap sack. I brought the hive to Frederick’s room after the maids were done with it, and left the sack on his bed. I knew he would open it. And he did. He was stung very badly, much worse than I’d imagined—foolish in my anger. He was sick abed for half a dozen months. He nearly died.”
Adam stared at her for a moment, looking quite shocked and amused.
She was relieved. What she had done to Frederick was terrible—though, truthfully, she didn’t feel repentant after he’d groped her and forced a kiss on her the night before. She’d hoped for this reaction from Adam instead of one of judgment—especially after she’d accused him of being the savage.
“I have thought about apologizing,” she went on, trying to be sincere, “but then he’ll know ’twas I who left the hive. I don’t think he will forgive me.”
As if he’d been trying to hold it in, a short burst of laughter erupted from his lips.
Sina nearly forgot what they’d been talking about. God help her, she’d never been so beguiled by the very sight, the very sound of a man in all her life.
What if no one came for her? What if Camlochlin and Adam MacGregor were her future? Would it truly be so terrible? Everyone was happy here, and kind to her and to one another. Her husband was the most handsome man in Scotland, England, and Germany. He was loyal and honest, and he made her laugh. Could he be trusted with her heart?
“I once put fire ants in Braigh’s bed and, when we were younger, frogs in Abby’s,” he admitted, his shapely, succulent lips pressing together before separating into a grin.
“Why did you do it?” she asked, not really surprised that he had a mischievous side.
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “No reason, really.”
They both laughed, and Sina thought she might have let go of a piece of herself in that moment. A piece layered with lofty airs she wouldn’t need here in Camlochlin.
“You’re more trouble than I first thought,” she told him, but it wasn’t true. She knew how much trouble he was the instant she set eyes on him.
He leaned in—just a hairbreadth closer but enough for Sina to slip into the depths of his silvery-blue eyes. “And ye are hellfire covered by a golden shield of eloquence and innocence.”
Oh, but he was the eloquent one, wooing her with pretty words any lady would like to hear. Was he trying to woo her? Did he like her, then?
She was beginning to think he was the man she used to dream about when she was a little girl. Patient, playful, and romantic. So she didn’t resist or deny him when he rose to his feet and offered her his hand. “Come.”
He pulled her to her feet. For a moment, his close proximity overwhelmed her. She looked up at his mouth, into his eyes—and then at his other hand holding a sprig of heather between them. Her heart boomed i
n her ears, and her kneecaps tingled. He’d told her he’d never picked heather for anyone.
No one had ever picked a flower for her.
She smiled, accepting his offering. He leaned in, as if he meant to kiss her mouth. She wasn’t sure she would stop him if he did. He brushed his lips over the side of her jaw, softly, sweetly, making her toes curl in his spread-out plaid. She wouldn’t stop him, she told herself as his hair fell across her face like scattering wings.
He didn’t kiss her but withdrew with a sensual crook of his mouth. “Careful aboot lettin’ me have my way, lass,” he said on a husky whisper. “I might begin to think ye like me.”
She flashed her dimple at him. “Heaven forbid you think that.”
He laughed and then pulled her toward the bay.
She went, running barefoot with him and his dog down the hill. He didn’t stop when he reached the frothy edge of the bay but ran headlong into the water, still holding her hand.
She screeched when the cold waves covered her ankles and water splashed around her. She tugged her hand away from his and turned to run the other way.
He caught her by the wrist and pulled her into his arms. “I’ll keep ye safe, lass,” he promised on a husky whisper.
She looked up into his heated gaze. She could barely think straight. The air grew warm and charged between them. She closed her eyes when he dipped his lips to hers, and then went weak against him.
He’d barely begun to kiss her when someone called out his name. Adam lifted his mouth from hers, his eyes painted with regret. They both turned to see his cousin Violet hurrying toward them with Ettarre at her side.
“Amelia is aboot to give birth! There’s goin’ to be a new MacGregor in Camlochlin! Come, Sina, we need all the help we can get!”
Help? What kind of help could she offer? She knew nothing about giving birth. She turned to Adam for help, but she recieved nothing more than a smile.
“And of course there will be a celebration tonight,” Violet added with a bright smile, as if they weren’t heading off to help a woman push a child out into the world.
“Are you coming?” Sina turned to ask Adam when, after walking them inland, he released her hand.
“That’s no place fer a man, lass. Besides, I have to bring the sheep in. Ye’ll do fine,” he said with more confidence than she felt.
She watched him head back up the hill to retrieve his léine and plaid and wished she were staying with him. She thought about his lips on hers, so brief, so tantalizing. Her blood warmed as she thought about being held in his arms, against all his hard plains, feeling his heartbeat quicken.
She couldn’t be falling in love with him. Oh, but she was pitiful! He made it so damned easy!
“D’ye like him now?” Violet asked her as they walked back to one of the manor houses on the far right of the vale.
“Yes,” Sina confessed, “I do.”
His cousin squealed with joy, much to Sina’s delight. She should feel guilty about betraying William, but at the moment, she could think only about Adam and kissing him.
Chapter Sixteen
Sina stepped into chaos precisely controlled by over a dozen women. Four of them stood over Amelia, dabbing her brow with a cool cloth, holding her hands, encouraging her. Abby sat on her knees on the bed, between Amelia’s feet.
The deep wail that burst from Amelia’s throat shook Sina to her bones.
“Sina, fetch more water,” someone called out.
After that there was too much to do to worry about the screaming and the blood. The ladies, all except Abby, rotated duties after an hour, and Sina found herself mopping Amelia’s forehead and speaking softly above her.
The birth of little Laurel MacGregor three hours later was difficult to watch but also thrilling and emotional. The babe’s mother worked hard but she wasn’t alone. Her family was there for her, urging her on, helping her through the worst pains. Despite the urgency and bustle of every woman at work there was a sense of warmth and love here that Sina had never felt before.
They made her a part of it. They trusted her to help, taking her in as one of their own. She accepted, helpless against the longing for a family. She had hoped to have a family with William, but this…this was bigger than anything she’d ever desired. Here were sisters, aunts, mothers, even grandmothers. She struggled to keep her tears back. What were paved streets and shops compared to candlelit gatherings and a Highlander who picked heather for her?
“D’ye want to hold the babe?” Davina smiled and held the tiny bundle out to her.
Sina accepted her and drew the babe to her chest. Her throat burned and she finally let her tears flow. “She’s beautiful.” She smiled at Amelia and prayed a blessing over Laurel. The gesture drew Davina’s hand across her back, pulling her a bit closer.
“Ye’ll go now and get ready fer the celebration,” Davina said. Her eyes sparked with excitement and anticipation. “There will be dancing.”
Dancing. Sina smiled at the thought of a night of merriment and dancing. What was it like celebrating with Highlanders? She bid the ladies farewell and left with some of the others.
She looked for Adam in the halls. Should she let him take her, make love to her in his bed? Possibly carry his child and give up any hope of ever leaving? Was her mettle so weak that she would toss away her future because of one morning in the heather? Because he’d carried her to his bed more than once—and left her there, honoring her unfair request? Because she wanted his family?
She found their chambers and hoped he was inside. He wasn’t, but he had been there, evidenced by the sprig of heather on her pillow.
Everything inside her grew warm as she went to it and lifted it in her fingers. She held it up to examine the tiny, bell-shaped flowers dangling from the tender stalk, each blossom perfectly intact. It wasn’t simply romantic that Adam had picked heather for her. It meant more to him and to the people who lived here. Adam had told her it was a symbol of love and that the MacGregors took it very seriously, even making an art of picking it without losing any blossoms.
Would she deny everything else because he gave her a flower? Because the brush of his lips against her jaw carried her away to another place, where she was free to offer him anything? Or for his deep, lilting voice when he told her about Sir Gawain and honor? She wasn’t a child to entertain such fanciful notions as romance. She’d never had “romantic” encounters with William. They were friends, and their deeper feelings for each other had grown out of it. She’d been perfectly happy with that.
Until now.
She heard music coming from the great hall, fiddles and pipes. She hurried to wash up and change clothes. She chose the lavender gown Davina had given her. It fell over her like mist covering the mountains. It fit perfectly with a thin gold cord around her waist and bell sleeves. There were no petticoats or stays. Just her shift and the gown separated her skin from…
She blushed while she pinned up her hair. In the middle of pinning it though, she changed her mind and pulled out all of the pins, letting her waves fall over her shoulders. She pinned up the sides and left the rest loose.
She hurried into her heels, enjoying the freedom of movement in her gown and the freedom to wear what she liked instead of what everyone else liked.
As she hastened out of the room and to the great hall, she remembered William. Poor William. What would he do without her?
She shook her head. She didn’t want to think on things she couldn’t change. Not tonight. Tonight she wanted to dance. Hopefully, with her husband.
The doors to the great hall were open, spilling music and laughter into the corridors.
Sina’s heart thundered in her ears as she stood at the entrance and looked inside. The cavernous hall looked even bigger with many of its long trestle tables moved aside to make room for the lively dancing. The steps were very different from the dances at court, with people bouncing up and down, kicking their pointed feet. She couldn’t remember a time when she was this excited abou
t a night of celebration. Perhaps when she was younger with William…no, never like this.
She spotted Adam across the hall sharing words with a few of the men. It was he who stirred her blood and made her heart thrash. He was tall, lean, and broad in hide boots and a léine beneath his plaid. She sized him up from his bare knees to his chiseled face. He laughed at something one of them said. He laughed often, giving the impression that he was careless when in fact he was carefree.
She saw the difference. His relaxed, easy nature beguiled her. How could she have thought him a savage when he didn’t seem to care about enough things to provoke his wrath?
But he cared about his clan—enough to marry her. And perhaps he was beginning to care for her too.
He turned, as if sensing her there by the door. His eyes cut through the crowd and settled on her. He broke away from his companions and made his way toward her with Goliath leading him.
Sina wished she had a fan to fan herself. Her belly knotted and her kneecaps ached from holding her up.
She shouldn’t feel this way about him. She had to stop. Her heart belonged to someone else.
She watched him as his gaze roved over her gown, taking his time to enjoy her natural curves.
She blushed and lifted her hand to her scandalous loose locks. His gaze immediately followed, taking her in like a starving man at a lavish dinner table.
“Ye enchant me,” he confirmed, moving in to take her hand. “Ye helped deliver Amelia’s babe. Many of the women are restin’, but here ye stand as fresh as the mornin’.”
She smiled and looked down to offer Goliath a gentle pat on the head, thankful that he didn’t bite off a finger. “The dress was your mother’s and my hair is—”
“Perfect, lass. Yer hair is perfect.” His voice seeped through her like liquid fire burning her blood.
She let the heat wash over her and then smiled as it settled. “I was…carefree with it.”
“Carefree suits ye,” he said, his grin wide, rattling her senses. “Are ye hungry?”