Any lingering thoughts of Calum, her Uncle Hammish, Elena, or vexing chest hair slipped from her mind. She gaped in awe at the beauty in front of her.
Water trickled over smooth boulders into a clear pool, while the sun peeked through the low-hung boughs to glimmer across the translucent ripples. Beneath the surface, sunlight shone on colored pebbles. Charmed by the sight, she sucked in a deep breath of cool, clean air, savoring the scene. ’Twas breathtaking.
She reined Devlin alongside Calum’s mount near the edge of the glade. He swept a leg over his stallion in a quick dismount and moved to her side in a flash to help her descend. For long moments, they simply stared at each other—him grasping her upper arms, her lost in the light of his gaze. Neither of them uttered a sound, which suited her, considering she more than likely could not form proper speech.
At last, he broke the spell.
Calum released her arms, but grabbed her hand and led her closer to the water’s edge. He stared out at the glittering pool and a thoughtful look passed over his features.
“Years ago, when my mother and father wished time away from their duties and the clan, he’d bring her here. This place became their own private sanctuary away from it all, if only for a little while.”
His thumb circled in her palm, sending tingles up her arm. She swallowed hard and watched the ripples along the water’s surface.
He continued, “When my mother died, my father wished to share a private part of her with me and Mairi, so we might understand how much she loved us. He left Mairi our mother’s prized garden, and he gave me this. He told me there was a certain magic to this place and one day, when I met someone special, I must share this sanctuary with her.”
Arabella’s heart pounded a swift beat. Gooseflesh rose on her arms. Her breath came in short bursts of air and her stomach fluttered almost painfully. His words…he spoke as if…as if…
She chanced a peek at him and met his intent stare. Despite the tremble in her weak knees, she glanced away and forced a light, playful tone.
“And just how many lasses have you brought here, Calum MacGregor?”
The pulse in her throat quickened when he stepped in front of her and lifted her gaze to his with one finger beneath her chin. The fathomless depth in his pale eyes snared her. His slight touch set her off balance. Embers of passion ignited a slow burn inside her belly. Saints help her, she wanted this man.
He lifted his finger to her cheek, brushing the knuckle over her flushed skin. Within a hairsbreadth from her mouth, he spoke. “Only you.”
“Why me?” Her words came out in a breathless whisper.
“Because, I’ve never met another woman like you. You are special to me. I”—he swallowed hard—“care deeply for you.”
“I-I care deeply for you, too.”
His heated breath warmed her lips, and her eyes drifted shut as she anticipated the kiss sure to follow. The light caress disappeared, and she blinked her eyes open to find he’d stepped away from her and strode to his mount. At once, the loss stung. Her stomach dropped to her feet, and she merely gaped at his back. Why had he not kissed her?
He called over one shoulder, “I managed to wrangle a few items from Agnes for our outing. Though, ’twas not an easy task, I’ll have you know.”
Thwarted, Arabella dragged her feet to a fallen log near the water’s edge and plopped down. She propped her elbows on her knees and rested her warm cheeks in her hands.
Calum untied a sack from his saddle and pulled a length of cloth from his bag. He spread the fabric on the ground in front of her and knelt down to unpack a bounty of food from the pack. Once done, he rose to his feet and moved toward her. He dipped his hand and flourished his arm in a polished bow.
With a lazy grin, he extended his hand. “Come, my lady. Our feast awaits.”
Abandoning her frustration, she accepted without a second thought. After he’d settled her on the cloth, he dropped down beside her and began passing her food. The soft trickle from the tiny waterfall blended with the relative silence between them as they dined on roasted fowl, cheese, and bread. While many young noble ladies and men sought to replace quiet moments with empty chatter, she preferred the shared silence with Calum. ’Twas comforting, in fact. The peace afforded her a chance to soak up the tranquility of the forest around her.
Once she’d eaten her fill, she rose and moved to the water’s edge to wash her hands. “’Tis beautiful here, Calum.”
“I hoped you might think so.”
She stared at her reflection and wondered if Calum felt the same comfort in her company. Around him, her troubles melted away, leaving her with a lightness of heart.
Glancing over her shoulder, she grinned. “Thank you for sharing your sanctuary with me.”
He stared at her, watching her every move. “’Tis ours now.”
Ours?
For a moment, she waited for him to say more but, once again, he left her stumbling to understand his true meaning.
Shoving aside her tangled thoughts, she returned to her spot on the cloth, while he packed away the remains of their fare. Afterward, he stretched out on his back and tucked his hands beneath his head.
Arabella plucked a stick from the ground near her and idly twirled the twig between her fingers. She peered around the glade. “There’s such a spiritual air about this place, do you not think?”
Grunting, he closed his eyes and crossed his ankles. “If you wish, I’ll give you the tale my father told me.”
Her ears perked up. As a child, her mother and Maggie had filled her head with stories of brave warriors, beautiful maidens, and creatures of legend. Even though ’twas a childish delight, she adored fantastic tales.
She twisted toward him and looked on expectantly. “Aye, I do.”
“’Twas said a warrior found this place after a long day battling a rival clan. He was weary from the fight and wanted naught more than to wash away the stench of blood and death. At the water’s edge, he noticed a woman beneath the surface. Fearing she drowned, he leaped in after her. He dragged the maiden from the water but despaired he was too late and hung his head in defeat. For some unknown reason, the loss affected him more than any life he’d taken on the battlefield. A whisper of movement caught his notice, and he glanced up to see a pair of shining, violet eyes watching him.
“From that day forward, the pair began to meet in secret and spend more time with each other. ’Twas not long before the warrior and the maiden fell in love. Though, the warrior never knew where the maiden disappeared to once they parted ways, nor would she divulge her secret. As time passed, the pair pledged their troth and sealed their bond.”
“How so?” she asked.
Calum opened his eyes and slanted her a dubious look.
“Oh, that.” She ducked her head and studied the twig in her hand.
“So…once they’d pledged their love, guilt ate at the maiden. At last, she revealed her true nature to the warrior. She was one of the elusive Fae.”
Gripped by the tale, Arabella tucked her feet beneath her, sitting up higher, and leaned forward. “What did he do?”
Calum lifted his shoulders in a halfhearted shrug. “He was in love with the maiden, so he cared not what she truly was.”
Arabella sighed in relief and sank down on her heels.
“Oh, but there’s more to the tale.” He grinned. “During one of their trysts, the Queen of the Fae discovered the pair locked in an intimate embrace. ’Twas forbidden for the Fae to reveal their true natures to mortals. Enraged one of her subjects had broken this sacred law, she ordered the warrior’s death at once.”
Arabella gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “He died?”
“I’m getting to that.” Calum stifled a yawn. “The maiden pleaded with the queen, begging her to spare her lover. She offered her life in place of the warrior’s, but the warrior would have none of it. Instead, he freely submitted his life to the queen under the condition the maiden would never come to harm. Moved b
y the pair’s devotion, the Queen of the Fae chose mercy. She gave them two choices. The maiden could return to her own realm, forever abandoning her warrior, and he would have no memory of her. Or, she could choose to live by her warrior’s side as a mortal, severing her ties with the Fae forever.”
Arabella waited for him to continue as long moments of silence spanned. He lay motionless with his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling in slow rhythm. Had he fallen asleep? Perturbed, she poked him hard in the side with her stick. He rumbled out a laugh, no doubt pleased to have tricked her.
“Finish the tale,” she huffed. “What did the maiden choose?”
“She chose a life with her warrior, of course.”
She sighed, pleased the pair had found their happy ending. Curiosity made her ask, “What would you have chosen?”
One eye cracked open, peering up at her. His shoulders lifted in a semblance of a shrug. “How should I know? I’ve never been a Fae.”
With a sound of annoyance, she tossed the stick at his head.
Laughing, he moved quickly and sat up, resting his elbows on his knees. “I do not believe in such tales, so ’tis of no consequence.”
Irritated, she snatched a leaf from the ground. “Then what do you believe in?”
“Honor, respect, loyalty.” He glanced at her. “And what of you? What do you believe in?”
“Much the same, I suppose.” She tossed the leaf aside and wiped her hands on her gown. “Calum, do you believe in love?”
His lips curved with a soft smile. “I do. I witnessed it firsthand from my mother and father.”
Arabella bit her lip and studied his profile. “Have you ever been in love?”
His eyebrows rose, as though the question surprised him. “Nay, I’ve never found the right woman.”
“I’m astounded you admit such freely.” She laughed. “Iain would’ve coughed and sputtered, then denied.”
Calum snorted. “I’ve no doubt he would’ve. Truth is, all men desire love, whether they admit so or not. Many complain ’tis naught but a weakness, but I do not believe that. With the right woman, how could love be anything but a strength?”
’Twas her turn to raise her brows. She’d never heard a man speak of love with such open honesty and sensible reasoning. He was unlike any man she’d known.
“I have a question for you.” He cocked his head to peer at her. “Why are you not wed yet? You’re clever, comely, wise for your years.”
“Perhaps, like you, I’ve not found the right man.” She glanced away. “A few have sought my hand, but those men merely desired an alliance with my family name or gold to fill their coffers. Aye, I know, I know. ’Tis a woman’s lot in life, but Iain did not believe so. He said I should be allowed a say in the matter and I loved him dearly for permitting me the freedom to choose, even if ’twas a foolish notion.”
The back of his finger grazed her cheek, and she curved her neck to gaze at him.
“’Tis not foolish, Arabella.”
He tipped his head and brushed his mouth over hers. She melted under the tender pressure and sighed against his lips. She’d never tire of his kisses. Unlike his others, this one was gentle and achingly sweet. She leaned into him, but he pulled away too soon, nearly causing her to topple over.
His thumb swept over her bottom lip. “My restraint flees whenever I’m around you.”
“Is that so bad?” Despite the heat in her cheeks, Arabella placed her hand over his heart, the steady beat thumping beneath her palm.
“’Tis very bad, Sweetness.”
He moved away from her and she regretted the loss.
Frustrated and ashamed of her forward behavior, she rose to her feet and paced to the pool’s edge. The threat of tears burned in her eyes. She could not understand the man, the constant push and pull. One moment, he wanted her. The next, he held her at arm’s length.
Holy Mother, what was she thinking? There could be naught between them in the first place.
In no time, he stirred behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Look at me.”
She stiffened but continued to stare at the waterfall.
“Please, Arabella.”
Against her better judgement, she turned and peered at the lacing of his tunic.
“I do not understand you,” she muttered, crossing her arms.
He nudged her chin, but she refused to meet his gaze.
“What do you not understand?”
Annoyed with him and herself, she flapped an arm out. “This back and forth that you do. One moment, you hold me close. The next, you push me away. Why? What do you want, Calum MacGregor?”
His brows knitted together. “You.”
The single word drew her gaze to his. The depth of emotion in his eyes jumbled her thoughts.
His thumb brushed her cheek. “You and I—this is a matter we will speak on when I return.”
Return? “Where do you go?”
“A few of the men and I need to ride the borders before the first snowfall. ’Tis my duty to see to the clan living outside the village. Make sure they’re clothed and have a store of food for the winter.”
She nodded. “When do you leave?”
“On the morrow at first light.”
“You’ll return soon?” She could’ve pinched herself for the eagerness in her voice.
A soft smile curled his lips. “Aye, in a few days. We’ll have our talk on my return, all right?”
She replied in a flat tone. “As you wish, Calum.”
“I do wish, Arabella. For many things.” His mouth hovered above hers long enough she thought he might kiss her once more. “We should get back to the keep before darkness falls.”
As he stepped away, she battled the inclination to shout at him to make up his mind. His back and forth moods drove her mad. How much more could she bear?
She spun around and stomped to her horse. That did it. Upon his return, she intended to pry the truth of his feelings out of him. She would accept no less.
Chapter Fifteen
Despite the ache in his sore muscles, Calum urged his mount onward through the village with one thought in mind—seeing Arabella.
After their outing in the glade, he’d ridden out the following morn with Liam and a handful of his clansmen, but not before he sent a missive to Fraser demanding his return. How could the old fool have left his niece without a care for her safety? Not that Arabella’s welfare had been in question with his absence. In fact, Calum assigned two of his best men to shadow her every step. Until the matter with Longford was resolved, he would accept no less.
The last three days he’d thrown himself into his work, distributing food, firewood, and supplies to the clan living outside the village. He and his men repaired cottages to withstand the approaching winter and secured the borders, checking for any disturbances. Even as he toiled hard during the long, exhausting days, his mind often drifted to thoughts of Arabella, or rather, his failings where she was concerned.
Too much hung over his head like a dark cloud—his growing desire for the lass, the words he’d left unspoken between them, a missed opportunity to tell her of their upcoming vows, the bride price Fraser bribed him with. Guilt ate at his conscience. Why had he not simply announced his feelings and his intention to wed her?
’Twas cowardice, fear she’d outright spurn him. Especially after she spoke of her desires to choose a husband and wed for love. How, in God’s name, could he tell her of the agreement he’d struck with her uncle? As matters stood, everyone knew of the wedding but her. Thanks to Fraser, a fact Calum was not likely to forget any time soon.
As for the dowry, he wanted naught of it. He would not have Arabella believe he sought her wealth as others had done. Nay, Fraser could keep the land. Calum and his clan had managed this long without it.
He rode through the bailey and into the stables. The sight of Fraser settling his horse in a stall grabbed his attention, and his anger rose in a swift peak. Days had passed, and the man just now retu
rned?
Calum barked out, “Where’ve you been?”
Fraser ignored his question and retreated from the enclosure without a backward glance.
Not easily hindered, he threw a leg over his stallion and dismounted. Rushing after the other man, he grabbed the man’s shoulder, but Fraser lurched from his hold. He spun around to face Calum with a fierce scowl plastered across his ruddy features.
The stench of soured whisky assailed Calum’s nostrils. For as long as he remembered, his ally had sworn off drink. At present, the man smelled as if he’d swam in a dram of it.
He frowned. “What the devil’s the matter with you?”
“Leave me be,” Fraser muttered. His bloodshot eyes stared over Calum’s shoulder.
“Leave you be?” he asked in affronted surprise. “You take your leave without a word—”
“I said leave me be.” Fraser slurred and feebly pushed at his chest.
His temper riled, Calum struck back, shoving him in return. Unsteady on his feet, the older man staggered a few steps and fell backward, landing on his backside. Calum glared down at the pitiful mess of a man at his feet—the same man he owed his life.
“I damned well will not let you be, you stubborn arse. And what of your niece? Did you give any thought to her welfare before you crawled into the bottom of a barrel?” He shook his head. “Look, I do not know what’s going on with you and my aunt. Frankly, I do not care. But have a care for Arabella, will you?”
He offered his hand, but Fraser knocked it away and managed to stand on his own.
“To hell with Elena.” He waved his hand. “As for Arabella…she’s no longer my concern.”
Calum blinked at the careless words, stunned by Fraser’s indifference. Not a fortnight before, the man would’ve invaded England to see his beloved niece freed. Sure, he was crude, spoke his mind, and cared for little else other than those closest to him, but he’d never behaved in such a shameful manner.
Their gazes met and Fraser curled his lip. “Have you told my niece of the wedding yet?”
Unwilling to admit the truth, Calum narrowed his eyes.
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