“Request?”
“The lad wants a sister to cosset.”
Rob stepped back two paces and scooped Smooches in her arms. Lifting her upturned nose into the air, she informed him, “All those verra willin’ ladies have stunted yer emotional growth, my lord. Trust isna unlimited, and forgiveness doesna imply forgetfulness. This may be impossible for ye to ken, my lord, but I dinna desire ye.”
At that, Rob marched down the path toward the door and disappeared inside. Angel, ye know nothin’ aboot desire, Gordon thought, as he watched her retrace her steps, but ye’ll learn. Verra soon, my reluctant love.
Rob opened her eyes and knew from the chamber’s dim light that the hour was still early. She never awakened with the dawn. What had disturbed her sleep?
Turning toward her husband, Rob discovered his side of the bed empty. A noise from the other side of the chamber drew her attention, and she raised her head off the pillow to see what he was doing.
With his back turned to her, Gordon crouched in front of the hearth and stoked its embers to life. He was magnificently naked except for a loincloth, which he’d begun wearing to bed in deference to her easily offended modesty.
Watching him through heavy-lidded eyes, Rob admired the play of his sinewy, well-honed muscles across his shoulders and upper back as he worked. An unfamiliar, warm tingling heated the pit of her stomach as she stared at the ease of strength in her husband’s muscles. A primitive feeling of being the only man and woman in the world surged through her, and she yearned for . . . what?
Breaking the spell his maleness had cast upon her, Rob snapped her eyes shut when he stood suddenly. She didn’t want him to catch her peeking at him.
When the sound of splashing water reached her ears, Rob opened her eyes a crack. Her husband was standing across the chamber at the table where they kept the basin and rinsing the sleep from his face.
From this vantage point, Rob had an excellent view of the back of his thickly muscled thighs, a warrior’s thighs developed from years of hard riding and, she supposed, more intimate activity. What would it feel like if those muscled thighs of his spread her legs apart and —
Gordon glanced toward the bed as if he could feel her interested gaze upon him.
Rob hastily closed her eyes again and then heard him moving toward the chairs in front of the hearth. Her heart pounded rapidly as if watching her husband at his morning toilet was a terrible sin, but that possibility didn’t stop her.
She opened first one eye and then the other. Apparently, he’d set his clothing across one of the chairs because he unexpectedly dropped his loincloth onto the floor and reached toward the chair. Rob nearly swooned from the incredible sight of his tight, rounded buttocks. The man even had an irresistible arse.
In the next instant Gordon ruined her pleasure by donning his long shirt, which covered his more interesting assets, and Rob nearly moaned with disappointment. Next came his wool stockings and black leather boots. Finally, Gordon wrapped his Campbell plaid around himself, secured it in place with a thick belt, and shrugged into his black leather jerkin.
Rob closed her eyes when he turned to leave the chamber. “Come, Smooches,” she heard him call softly, and then felt the pup scrambling off the bed.
Silence reigned in the chamber for several, long moments. Rob opened her eyes and glanced toward the door through which her husband had disappeared.
“’Tis early yet,” Gordon said, a smile flirting with the corners of his lips as he watched her from the doorway. “Shall I rouse Gabby and send her to ye?”
“No,” Rob squeaked, her face growing hot with embarrassment.
Gordon winked at her and said, “Well, I hope ye enjoyed the entertainment.” Then he vanished with the pup out the door.
Great Bruce’s ghost, he’d known all along that she’d been watching him strut naked about their chamber. How humiliating to be caught peeking at what he had to offer, especially since she’d insisted she didn’t desire him.
Rob yanked the coverlet over her head. How she wished she could sink inside the mattress.
Later that morning Rob stepped into the enclosed garden and paused to inhale deeply of the pure mountain air, crisp yet surprisingly warmer than usual for that season of the year. Everywhere she looked, Rob saw the signs of winter’s passing, and her spirit quickened with the promise of spring. The chaste full moon would begin waning that night, heralding days that waxed warmer as the sun’s power increased.
Rob set Smooches on the ground and strolled down the stone path that led to the bench. She didn’t have to wait long for Duncan and Gavin. Spying her from where they played at the opposite side of the garden, the two boys dashed toward her.
“Are ye ready to train Smooches?” Rob asked, making herself comfortable on the bench.
“Aye,” both boys answered, standing in front other.
Drawing their attention, the garden door opened unexpectedly, and Gordon appeared. He cast the three of them a smile as he advanced on them. Over his right shoulder, he’d slung his golf bag with one of Biddy’s brooms sticking out of the end; in his left hand, he carried a bowl.
Watching him, Rob was unable to banish the naked image of him from her mind’s eye, and felt the hot blush that stained her cheeks a becoming pink. Was he also remembering how she’d peeked at him that morning? she wondered when he winked at her.
“I’ve come to help the boys,” Gordon said, leaning his golf bag against the bench beside her. “They canna train the pup unless they have treats to give him.”
Rob, Duncan, and Gavin peered into the bowl. Tiny pieces of cold roast filled it.
“I’ll handle this,” Duncan said.
“No, I will,” Gavin protested.
“Both of ye will get a turn,” Gordon told them. He sat beside her on the bench, so close only the width of the golf bag separated them.
Rob looked down at his thigh teasing her skirt. In her mind’s eye, she saw its muscled thickness and then his tight, rounded buttocks. The sensual memory of her naked husband heated her all over. She hoped he couldn’t tell what she was thinking.
“What do ye think, angel?” Gordon was asking.
Rob lifted her gaze to his and blushed at being caught staring at his thigh. “Sounds reasonable to me,” she answered in a soft voice. In truth, she couldn’t recall what he’d been saying.
“Yer the oldest,” Gordon said to Duncan. “Ye try first.”
Smiling with seven-year-old bravado, Duncan took the bowl of meat and wafted it beneath the pup’s nose, which twitched with eager anticipation. The boy shoved Smooches’s backside down and ordered, “Sit.” Then he reinforced his command by rewarding the pup with a morsel of meat.
Smooches learned this lesson quickly. Laughing at their success, Rob clapped her hands together for the boy and the dog.
“Well done,” Gordon praised his oldest son. “’Tis yer turn, Gavin.”
The six-year-old took the bowl out of his brother’s hands. Looking very much like his charming father, he gave Rob an exaggerated wink.
Unfortunately, stay was a little more difficult for the pup to learn. “Sit,” Gavin ordered the pup. Then, “Stay.”
Gavin walked three paces away and set a piece of meat on the ground. No sooner had he turned his back on Smooches than the pup attacked the meat and gobbled it up.
“No, sit,” Gavin scolded, pointing a finger at the pup. “Stay.”
This time Gavin refused to turn his back on the dog. Walking backwards, he made a trail of meat leading away from the pup; but as soon as he placed a piece of meat on the ground, Smooches gobbled it up.
Gordon and Rob looked at each other and smiled. “Dinna laugh out loud,” she whispered out the side of her mouth. “Ye’ll hurt his feelin’s.”
“Stay,” Gavin shouted, frustrated with his failure. Suddenly, the boy tripped over his own feet. The bowl flew out of his hands, and pieces of meat rained down around him. Faster than an eye could blink. Smooches gobbled all of it up.
“God’s balls,” Duncan exclaimed, sounding exactly like his father. “Now see what ye’ve done, brother.”
“’Twas an accident that could happen to anyone,” Rob defended the six-year-old, struggling against a fit of the giggles.
“Bring more meat,” Gavin ordered his father.
“Biddy will murder the lot of us if I steal another bowl of meat today,” Gordon said, refusing, schooling the laughter out of his expression. “Besides, ’tis time for yer golf lesson. Ye do wish to play with the king some day?”
“Aye,” Duncan and Gavin agreed.
Reaching into his golf bag, Gordon pulled the broom out first and proceeded to sweep the stone walk of any lingering winter debris. Next he withdrew a gold-plated goblet and set it down on its side. Taking his putter and a golf ball, he walked several yards away and gently hit the ball into the goblet.
“First, ye must learn to put it inside the goblet every single time,” Gordon instructed his sons. “Then, ye must learn to make it a near miss whenever ye wish. ’Tis important to the clan that ye please the king’s sons by losin’ to them without seemin’ to do so.”
“Jamie doesna have any sons,” Rob said. “He isna married.”
“He’ll have sons some day,” Gordon replied. “’Tis imperative that Duncan and Gavin be prepared.”
“I want to go raidin’ the other clans,” Duncan told his father.
Gavin smiled at Rob. “I want to go dancin’ with the ladies.”
“I’ll teach ye how ’tis done,” Rob said, rising from her perch on the bench. “We’ll begin with the pavane.”
Rob curtsied to the six-year-old. In return, Gavin bowed from his waist.
“Press this part of yer arm against yer body,” Rob instructed him, demonstrating as she spoke. “Hold yer open palms up toward me. Now sway yer right side toward my right side, and touch yer palm to mine.” When he’d done that, she said, “Do the same thin’ with yer left palm.”
Rob and Gavin did each side two more times, and then, ending the dance, she curtsied to him. Taking his cue, the boy bowed from the waist again and then grinned at her.
Gavin had inherited his father’s devastatingly charming smile, Rob thought. The lad would surely break dozens of female hearts.
“Let Rob try golfin’,” Duncan told his father.
“I dinna think . . .” Rob began.
Gavin reached out and touched her hand, saying, “Do it for me.”
Rob cast the six-year-old a rueful smile and nodded. “I dinna remember exactly how to hold the club,” she told her husband.
“I’ll help ye,” Gordon said, his smile wolfish.
After setting a ball down on the walkway, Gordon passed her the club and stood behind her. Just like that day they’d practiced in the garden at Devereux House, he stood so close behind her only their garments separated them.
“Now then, angel,” Gordon whispered against her car.
His warm breath ridded the side of her face, and delightful chills of excitement danced down her spine. Unexpectedly, her husband caressed her neck with his lips.
“’Tis exactly how we get baby sisters,” Duncan announced.
Gordon chuckled huskily. Rob glanced over her shoulder and smiled shyly at him.
“Duncan! Gavin! Yer grandfather’s lookin’ for ye,” Gabby called from the doorway. “’Tis time for yer lessons.”
“Comin’,” Duncan answered and started toward the door.
“I’ll see ye at supper,” Gavin told Rob, and then followed his brother.
“I do believe that Gavin is fallin’ in love with ye,” Gordon said, returning his golfing paraphernalia to the bag.
“Ye’ve been blessed with two verra special boys, my lord,” Rob replied.
Gordon lifted her hands to his lips and gazed deeply into her eyes. “Angel, I want to thank ye for not takin’ my stupidity out on my sons.”
“Likin’ Gavin and Duncan is easy,” she told him.
“As easy as likin’ me?” Without waiting for her reply, Gordon scooped Smooches into his arms and then passed him to her. Together, they walked toward the door.
“Ye must admit I’m becomin’ more sensitive to yer feelin’s,” Gordon said. “Why, we’ve been in this garden for more than an hour and I never embarrassed ye by mentionin’ that ye were peekin’ at me this mornin’.”
Rob flicked him an irritated, unamused look. Ruining the effect, a high blush stained her cheeks.
“Ooops, I guess I just mentioned it,” Gordon said, wearing the most unrepentant grin she’d ever seen. “Well, if ye dinna get angry, I’ll let ye peek at me tomorrow.”
“Yer incorrigible,” she told him.
“I know,” he admitted. “And I thank ye for the high praise.”
A week passed. And then another.
All around Inverary Castle the telltale signs of spring abounded. Courageous crocus broke through the still-frosty ground in the duke’s garden. Migrating robins and finches appeared, returning to their northern haunts to prepare for their nesting season.
Anxious to see Duncan and Gavin, Rob stepped outside and scanned the deserted garden. The boys had passed the previous day and evening with Fergus and Kendra, and Rob had missed their company.
“Duncan and Gavin, I know yer here,” she called, setting Smooches down to scamper wherever he would. “Are ye hidin’ on me?”
Gavin appeared from behind an evergreen hedgerow. With a smile of greeting lighting his expression, the six-year-old started toward her.
“Stop!” Duncan shouted, materializing from behind the same hedgerow.
Gavin halted at his brother’s command. He looked from Rob to Duncan and then at her again, seemingly torn between them.
“Come away, brother,” Duncan said, grabbing his hand. “Or ye’ll be hurt.”
Rob stared at the seven-year-old in confusion. What had happened to upset Duncan? Did the boys always behave strangely after spending time with their mother? Or was this merely a new game they were playing with her?
Rob decided a calm facade would be the best approach with them. She sat down on the stone bench and looked in their direction.
When Smooches tried to greet the boys, Duncan kicked the pup away. Then he flicked her a nervous, uneasy glance.
Rob recognized the frightened look in his eyes, but refused to believe what she saw. “Come, Gavin,” she coaxed, casting the boy a winsome smile. “Sit beside me.”
The six-year-old returned her smile and would have gone to her, but his brother held him back. “Mama said dinna get too near Old Clootie’s witch,” Duncan reminded him.
Hearing those words, Rob felt her promising new life crumble around her. “’Tis untrue. I’m no monster,” she pleaded in an aching whisper, holding her hand out in supplication to the boys. “Please, Gavin, sit with me.”
“Begone, witch,” Duncan shouted, and then made a protective sign of the cross.
“Begone, witch,” Gavin imitated his brother.
Changelin’-witch. Loch Awe Monster. Those childhood taunts slammed into her mind and her heart with the impact of a crushing avalanche.
Rob covered her face with her hands and struggled against the familiar pain. The ache in her heart and the raw emotion swelling in her throat felt like old friends. Tears welled up in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. Duncan and Gavin had accomplished what the MacArthur clan’s children had been unable to do. Their rejection broke her heart.
I’m just like you, Rob wanted to shout at them. The stain on her hand didn’t prove she was a witch. Evil lived within the heart, not on the back of a hand.
How many days would pass before everyone at Inverary made the sign of the cross when they saw her? The others didn’t matter, though. Duncan and Gavin had already broken her heart.
Rob lifted her head and glanced in their direction. When both boys made the sign of the cross, she closed her burning eyes at the sight and took a ragged, painful breath.
Scooping Smooches int
o her arms, Rob flicked the boys one last look of regret. Slowly and wearily, as if the sins of the world rested upon her shoulders, Rob walked across the garden to the door. Their voices reached her just before she disappeared inside.
“Rob’s weepin’,” Gavin said. “We hurt her feelin’s.”
“Witches dinna have feelin’s,” Duncan told him.
“Then why’s she weepin’?”
“I dinna know, so shut up.”
Rob ran up the wheel stairs two at a time until she reached the third floor. Luckily, she made it to her chamber without being seen. After setting Smooches down on the floor, she plopped into the chair in front of the hearth and stared at the flames. In her mind’s eye, Rob saw the boys crossing themselves at the sight of her, and a moan of aching regret slipped from her lips.
She should never have returned to Scotland. The Highlands abounded with ignorant and superstitious people. If only she hadn’t behaved so impulsively that day in her uncle’s study. And just what had enticed her into believing that life at Inverary Castle would be different from her previous life at Dunridge Castle?
A sudden, horrifying idea rooted in her mind, something she’d never considered before. Could she actually be Old Clootie’s chosen? Had the real MacArthur daughter been abducted at birth? And was she the evil changelin’ the fairies had left behind? These unanswerable questions and gnawing doubts gave Rob a headache.
Home. Like a siren’s song the comforting arms of her family called to her. Yes, the MacArthur clansmen had rejected her, but Dunridge Castle housed a family who loved her. Inverary Castle offered none of that. Here she lived among strangers.
Ye ride into the mountains behind Inverary, through the valley of Glen Aray and then the forest. At the crest of the moors, ye’ll see Loch Awe and its jewel, Dunridge Castle.
That was the path into her mother’s comforting arms. Her wounds would heal within the shelter of her family. Come summer, she would return to England.
With her decision made, Rob knew there was no time to waste. She changed into the woolen skirt and linen blouse she’d worn her first day at Inverary. After strapping her leather satchel to her chest, she dressed Smooches in his sweater and set him inside, then grabbed her warmest cloak and wrapped herself in it.
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