The Shadow 0f Her Smile (Highlander Heroes Book 3)

by Rebecca Ruger

  “Aye, I’ll come back to you, lass,” he breathed against her lips. “And there’ll be a reckoning for what you’ve kept from me this past week—for which I now will have to wait so much longer.”

  Ada wiggled her hips against him, so needful of him just now. She needed to know they had a chance. “Take a bit now, to think on, to remind you that you need to come home. To me.” To her own ears, her voice sounded husky, provocatively so.

  He needed no other urging or insistence but ducked his head and covered her mouth almost feverishly. “A bit will no be enough,” he growled.

  “Then take more,” Ada breathed into his mouth. Boldly, she lowered her hand, rubbing it between his legs.

  Very slowly, he shook his head, but his refusal came not with any dedication and he pushed himself against her hand even as he lifted her skirts to find the center of her. A heat gathered in her loins while her breasts prickled with sensation as his fingers met flesh inside her drawers and slid between the folds to dip inside her. Ada moaned and sighed against his mouth, fumbling with the ties of his breeches, yanking and pulling at them to free his erection to her hand. She circled him but was allowed only seconds to touch him before he groaned and lifted her off the ground and against him.

  Instinctively, she folded her legs around his back, and Jamie pivoted smoothly, taking several strides, and pushing her up against the wall.

  “Move your skirts,” he demanded hoarsely, his lips at her throat while she arched her back and leaned her head against the wall. She obeyed and hoisted the bulk of the heavy fabrics up to her belly. She felt the hardness of him searching against her, between her legs, and knew she was wet for him when he slipped so smoothly and wonderfully inside her, filling her. Under her fingers, she felt every muscle of his arms and shoulders flexing as he suspended her and pumped into her. She found purchase against the wall and struck one leg out as leverage against the tall cupboard next to her, lifting and lowering herself on him while heat roared and crashed within her.

  Ada saw only a brief flash of his expression, clenched jaw and flared nostrils, his gaze riveted on her, before he captured her lips again. They kissed noisily and sloppily while he pumped faster and faster into her. Her foot slipped away from the cupboard just as she came so that she rather sank against him, crying out as wave after wave of pleasure exploded inside her. Jamie found his own release only moments later, with some guttural sounds escaping before he breathed, “You are mine,” against her neck.

  THE LEAVETAKING WAS dreadful, almost as if so many expected it to be permanent. The yard of Aviemore was filled with so many people, lairds and ladies and soldiers and serfs,

  Malcolm and Agnes stood at the top of the steps to the keep, wearing matching sorrowful faces, Malcolm’s thick arm around Agnes’s drooping shoulder. Three youths held the reins of a trio of huge destriers, awaiting their lairds, who each stood just beside their own mount, bidding farewell to their ladies. Conall MacGregor was stoic, insisting to Tess that all would be well, and that he would absolutely return to her. Gregor Kincaid’s face was imbued with both determination and guilt, for having to leave Anice at this time. She angled her head up at him, a brave smile upon her face, meaning to send him off with his mind set to the daunting task ahead, and not left here with her. Torren waited and watched, at the bottom of the steps, below Malcolm and Agnes, his thumbs looped into his sword belt, his countenance grim.

  Jamie held Ada’s hand, pulling her along to his mount, where he crushed her to him in one last embrace. Ada closed her eyes and her mind to everything else but the feel of him, so warm and strong and real.

  “You’ll come back to me,” she reminded him and assured herself.

  “Aye, I will, lass,” he ground out against her ear. Eventually, as the others gained their mounts, Jamie pulled back and gave her an impassioned blue-eyed stare. “I’m very proud to call you my wife, Ada. I’ll come back to you, as we’ve some unfinished matters between us, aye?”

  Ada nodded and tried to smile. A tear rolled away from her eye. “I love you, Jamie.”

  And then he kissed her and was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Ada, I think now would be a grand time to tell me exactly how you came to be married to Jamie MacKenna,” Anice said.

  Ada smiled at her friend, admitting, “Honestly, Anice, I’d thought to hear this question hours ago.”

  Anice grinned. “I was trying not to be nosey.”

  Truth be told, if they’d come yesterday, Ada was sure she’d not be smiling as she related the events of their journey to Aviemore to Anice and Tess, as the ladies sat in the nearly empty hall later that evening. Yesterday, she’d been so miserably unsure, so fearful that Jamie might never love her, that had Anice come then, she’d surely be crying on her shoulder now. But with Jamie’s behavior earlier in the yard, and his swoon-worthy good bye shortly thereafter, Ada was hard pressed to contain her grin through the telling.

  This did not go unnoticed by Anice, who declared, with dimpled pleasure, “You are in love with him.”

  Ada rolled her lips inward and nodded, though she needn’t have bothered with the latter. It was written quite plainly on her face, in her shy smile and happy eyes.

  Anice crossed her hands over her chest, exclaiming, “And I bet he’s madly in love with you as well. How could he not be?”

  Ada rather blurted out a funny laugh. “Mostly, I’m afraid he’s just mad. At me.” As both Tess and Anice favored her with brows raised in question, she expounded, “So often he seems so angry, always so harsh whenever he stares at me.”

  Tess and Anice now shared an odd look and simultaneously let out their own giggles.

  “Oh, then he’s definitely in love with you,” Tess advised her.

  “How does that say love?” She wanted to know.

  “Well, that’s him fighting it, my dear,” Anice provided sagely.

  Tess nodded, and offered, “When Conall began to fall in love with me, he was so moody, all simmering madness and furious glares. In hindsight, it’s actually quite sweet, to have witnessed him understanding and finally accepting—embracing—what it was.”

  “Gregor kept sending me away,” Anice said with a shrug, and then another laugh, “as if that would have made it disappear.”

  “Why is it that men are so afraid to love?” Tess wondered idly. “Do they consider it a weakness?”

  “Aye, but it is,” said Angus, who’d been quietly taking it all in, unmoving as to be unthreatening, so they’d continued to speak.

  “Why is that, Angus?” Tess wondered.

  The old man shrugged, his slim shoulders riding up and down under the soft wool of his tunic. “Their entire lives, from the time those three trained at the knee of Sir Hugh Rose and formed this closeness, they were taught and trained to be fearless. Forced, by the very world we live in, to have no weakness. You three represent the most vulnerable part of them, the one thing they cannot live without, the one thing that could be used against them.” Angus lifted a hand, turned it over with his thoughts. “At the same time, you are also the very thing that makes them exactly the men they are, you ken. Remind them what all the fighting is about—love and honor, someone worth living for.”

  “That’s some deep shite there, Angus.”

  All heads turned toward the doorway, where lounged Torren, his arms crossed over his chest, his grin wry.

  Angus chuckled, an aged and craggy sound that Ada liked very much. “Aye, lad, but the lasses seem to like it,” he teased as Torren joined them.

  Anice touched his hand as he stepped past her to take a seat next to Angus. “And here’s my poor Torren, tasked with the ignoble job of safeguarding me.”

  Angus sobered and stated with profound seriousness, “If you think his duty is no important, you’re no as clever as I’d believed, lass.”

  “Aye,” Torren agreed. “Those three need clear heads for what they’re about.”

  “’Tis a great honor,” Angus added, and defined, “th
e lairds chose him, above all others. They can ride away and ken you are safe, and in good hands, and concentrate on the task at hand. Torren’s role is invaluable to them right now, aye?”

  THE NEXT MORNING, TESS found Ada in the kitchens shortly after breakfast.

  “Anice will be lying abed a little longer today,” she said and quickly waved off Ada’s concern. “She is only fatigued and promises that is all.”

  Agnes turned from the counter where she plucked feathers from pigeons, and pronounced with good cheer, “Aye, and she’d better find her rest now before the bairn comes and takes it all away.” This was followed by a delighted cackle, given by a woman whose very age suggested vast experience in the matter, and whose voice insisted it was so.

  Tess and Ada shared a smile before Tess asked, “Might I have a chore to prove useful?”

  Ada resisted. “Tess, you are a guest, and not expected to labor while you’re here at Aviemore.”

  “I did not think I was, but I will be extremely annoying to you,” she said with a beautiful smile, “if I’m left to my own devices.”

  Ada grinned at this, understanding the need to not be idle. And then a thought struck her. “Tess, maybe you can help Joanna and I. Jamie once told me that some bread baked down at Inesfree, with apples and something called cinnamon, is his favorite. Might you be able to help us with the recipe?”

  “And the cinnamon?” Joanna added, standing beside Ada, as they’d been discussing the plans for the days meals.

  Tess’s gorgeous green eyes widened. “I remember when Jamie tasted it for the first time. His eyes lit up, and he kept looking down upon the trencher, as if he couldn’t believe such a thing existed. It was so funny to watch. But yes, I’d love to help.”

  Ada and Joanna looked at each other and smiled with excitement.

  Tess stole of bit of this. “Of course, we’ll have to wait on the cinnamon. Angus’s son, Fynn, provides that from his trading, but I can send some up when I return. Aviemore has an orchard, I presume?” At Ada’s nod, she said, “Then let’s see if any apples are ready this early, and we can make it with honey in the interim, and at least you’ll have the recipe.”

  Twenty minutes later, Ada and Tess had wrapped themselves up in their cloaks, as the wind was fierce today, and headed outside the gates and toward the orchard. Henry and Bethany ran ahead, Bethany following the flight of a butterfly while Henry scampered alongside, maddeningly trying to send the butterfly further out of her reach. Two soldiers dogged their heels, after the usual bowing and scraping toward Ada, and several appreciative but furtive glances at Tess’s uncommon beauty.

  Tess threaded her arm through Ada’s and whispered, having checked that the two men-at-arms were far enough away, “I can rarely get a soldier to form sentences in front of me, but you’ve outdone yourself, Ada. The genuflecting is well done, indeed.”

  There was much mischief in Tess’s tone, but Ada insisted on clarifying, “That is not to my liking. I’m about to enlist Torren to start knocking heads together.”

  “It’s charming, but quite curious.”

  “I assume Anice explained exactly how Jamie and I met?”

  “She did,” Tess acknowledged. “Which makes you my hero, as well.”

  Ada rolled her eyes, sensing that Tess was only partly serious. “When we arrived here, and it was told that the great laird of Aviemore had taken a wife, these people were none too happy with his choice—likely having hoped for someone who matched him leastwise in beauty.”

  Tess, bless her, did not instantly refute this, insisting with any hollowness that of course Ada was beautiful, despite the scarring. She said only, “But of course, you know that you are more beautiful because of your scars.”

  Ada smiled at her and continued. “So Jamie shared the rather inglorious details and now they all think I’m the second coming of our Lord.”

  Tess giggled at this. “A weighty mantle to bear.”

  “Annoyingly so. Please tell me that you and Conall had a more conventional beginning.”

  Tess chuckled. “Alas, I cannot. He kidnapped me, to spite my father, who’d wronged him years ago. I spent the first five days at Inesfree locked away in a tower and believing I was bound to die.”

  “Not so ordinary at all!” Ada realized. “But how remarkable, that you turned hate to love.”

  “As did you,” Tess reminded her. “But where is your hound, Will? Anice mentioned he was at Stonehaven with you.”

  “When we left Stonehaven, it was in the company of William Wallace. Will took to him straight away, and Wallace to him.” She shrugged, more dismissively than what she felt, being not at all unaffected by how much she missed her hound. “When we parted ways, Will followed him instead, almost as if he sensed that Wallace needed him, a companion.

  “How lovely. Animals are very intuitive, I’ve always felt.”

  Kindly, Tess did not put into words the fear that Ada had been wrestling with for days, that if Wallace had been captured, Will might likely be dead.

  They reached the orchard, with Henry and Bethany racing ahead, running between the scrub brush and trees.

  And by mid-afternoon, with both Tess and Ada aproned and dusted with flour, as was Joanna’s round face, they’d created what Agnes referred to as a masterpiece, and which Ada resolved must absolutely become a regular staple at Aviemore.

  “And the cinnamon makes it even tastier?” Joanna asked, with a skeptical lift of her brow.

  “I cannot imagine,” Ada chimed in, savoring the last bit of her piece of the apple bread.

  “But it’s true,” Tess assured them. “Just you wait.”

  Anice finally showed herself, looking rested and calm. Of course, Torren wasn’t far behind.

  “She sniffed out the food,” Torren teased.

  Anice ignored him but gave away the truth of Torren’s statement. “But what is it? It smells heavenly.”

  Happily, Joanna cut two more slices of their new favorite food, the apple bread. One piece was significantly larger than the other, which she proudly handed to Torren, having first given Anice the smaller of the two.

  Anice considered the size of her share, against that of Torren’s, her gaze envious.

  With a roll of his eyes, and while all the watching women giggled, Torren switched their wooden plates and grinned at Anice’s now satisfied smile.

  THREE WEEKS AFTER THE lairds and their armies had departed Aviemore for London, a rider came to the castle, bearing a sanded missive written in Gregor’s hand. It was brought into the hall by Henry and handed to Torren. He’d been hovering over Anice, seated near the hearth and feeling poorly this day. Ada, Tess, and Angus were present also, as it was nearing the supper hour.

  With a steady hand, Torren snapped the wax seal, and perused the words before sharing the report with everyone. The change in his expression, from fairly still with breath held, to darkened scowl with a long breath blown out, told one and all there came no good news.

  “Wallace is dead,” he told them, seeming to lose a bit of his fierceness, looking all at once so much smaller and suddenly unsure. “They did not reach London in time.” He paused and looked at the words scratched upon the vellum once more. “All are well,” he read aloud. “Expected to Aviemore in three to four weeks.”

  Ada sat, fell really, into a chair next to Angus, her tears instant. She covered her face with her hands and wept, thinking of William Wallace’s constancy and perseverance, and of his warm blue eyes. Tess moved behind her and rubbed her back and shoulders.

  Angus’s voice was scratchy and sorrowful, as he said, “That’ll be the end of it, then. Freedom will no be ours.”

  A long span of silence, interrupted only by soft sniffling, stretched out upon the hall, until Ada was revived and pulled from her abject sorrow by Torren’s words.

  “It’s time, lass?”

  Lifting her head, Ada saw Anice biting her lip while pain gripped her, one hand sitting on the top of her belly. “Aye, I think it is.” She said
when the pain had passed.

  Ada’s heart broke for her, for how truly terrified she looked, her beseeching eyes fixed on Torren. The big man quickly tamped down his own apprehension and went to her side. “We’ll be fine, lass.” He scooped her up in his arms and Ada led the way up the stairs and around the gallery to find the Kincaid chambers.

  Tess had called after them that she would alert Agnes and had dashed off toward the kitchens.

  Inside Gregor and Anice’s chambers, Torren carefully laid Anice out on the bed. He knelt at her side, while she held his large hand, their thumbs interlocked. Ada adjusted pillows behind Anice and then could only stare and wait, feeling supremely inadequate and unqualified. Tess came into the room and stood by Ada, the pair joining hands as well.

  Torren’s voice soothed them all. “Just do as Agnes says, lass. And you scream when you want, and you call me when you need me. The lasses are here to comfort you and you’ll be just fine.” And then, because he sensed her anxiety, he teased, “I’ll be drinking myself senseless below stairs, aye, lass?”

  Anice managed to grin at this but was soon overtaken by another contraction just as Agnes appeared at the doorway, smiling as if the unease and fear within the room wasn’t something you could actually see and taste and touch. “Aye now, it’s a birthing, folks. No call for the long faces,” she said with a merry chuckle. “Get on with you, Torren Beyn. ‘Tis women’s work from here on out.”

  Torren did not leave immediately, not until the contraction had waned and Anice released his hand. For his sake, Anice nodded and smiled at him, as best she could, but no one in the room believed that she was unafraid or perfectly at ease.

  Anice labored for nineteen hours, in which time she’d been changed and bathed twice, while always Ada and Tess were at her side. Not once did Anice release a strip of Kincaid tartan, which she held so dear, squeezing it mercilessly as the pain came and sometimes holding it to her face, with thoughts of Gregor, Ada had to assume. Agnes came and went, as needed, having pronounced early on that the work load was all on Anice. “We can only make you comfortable, lass. And in that, there’ll be no comfort until the bairn comes and gives us a good wailing.”