Craig gazed into her eyes, unspoken emotions swirling in the darkening blue pools. “Are we still friends?”
Meriel nodded. “The best of friends. Two people who once again can share their true, innermost thoughts.” Then she sat back, kicked off her slippers, and placed both feet on his lap, pointing at them. “And if you rub, I will tell you some stories from around the castle that little Brenna has innocently divulged. They will have you both in tears from laughter and in so much shock, you will be picking up your chin from off the floor.”
Suddenly feeling like his world had been righted in places he had not even known were wrong, Craig obliged. A couple of hours later, when Brenna, accompanied by her younger sister, Bonny, came to find him and bring him to their mother, he rose to leave with his spirits higher than they had been in a long time.
He and Meriel had revealed their private sentiments, sharing stories about certain clansmen and -women, knowing that their opinions would stay private between them. They had even discussed their kisses again and how both were surprised to find out that the other was as good a kisser as rumored to be.
Exiting the stairwell, Craig took a deep breath and looked across the courtyard. One of the stable boys was preparing Meriel’s horse for her upcoming riding lesson. Only then did Craig realize there was one person he and Meriel had not talked about.
Hamish.
Hamish strolled away from the training grounds toward the castle. Finn, the commander of the McTiernay elite guard, had pushed the men hard today, no doubt in preparation for the anticipated return of their laird. Enough time had passed for Conor to have ridden down to the Lowlands, enjoyed a short visit, and journeyed back. So while nothing had been heard and no scouts had reported that Laird McTiernay had been sighted, it did not mean he was not close. And whether Hamish welcomed Conor’s return or not changed with every hour.
A bird swooped down, nearly colliding with Hamish. Annoyed, he glared at the large black feathered animal as it glided toward the loch. Looking down, he examined his sweaty, grimy hands, knowing that the rest of him looked the same, if not worse. It was to be expected. He had been in the fields besting younger, less experienced soldiers with various weapons, which often required rolling in the dirt to avoid a clever strike. Over the past couple of weeks, he had met with Meriel while in a similar condition and she never said anything regarding his appearance. Also they were to go out riding—something he suspected neither of them would return from clean and smelling nice. Still, he did not like the idea of meeting her in such a state. It bothered him. And realizing that he truly cared about what she thought about him bothered him even more.
Hamish walked down to the shore of the loch, yanked off his clothes, and dived in, hoping the cold water would shock his senses and return some of his sanity. What was he thinking when he had suggested teaching Meriel how to ride? An ill-advised plan made impetuously, to serve what—his pride?
He took a gulp of air and went under again, swimming underneath the surface until he thought his lungs would burst. He knew exactly what he had been thinking, and if Meriel had known, she would not have been so easily persuaded to accept his offer.
His flirtatious comments had been brazen and unmistakable and yet, based on her past experiences with him—not to mention the stupid ruse in which he had agreed to participate—Meriel had ignored them, believing them to be teasing remarks made by a friend. Nothing more. And he really wanted—no, needed—for her to see him as a man, not just as someone with whom she enjoyed spending time.
He swam to the shore, climbed out of the water, and lay down on the grass to dry off. When he had offered to teach Meriel how to ride, he had thought to accomplish many things. First, the woman needed to learn how to maintain a good seat on a horse. If anything, so she could make it back home without killing herself. But he also knew his time with Meriel was nearing an end, and he wanted to assure himself of at least one more opportunity to spend time alone with her. Mostly, however, he fully intended to end all pretenses about his feelings not only for her, but regarding her desire to capture Craig’s heart; a man who clearly did not want or deserve it.
The problem was that if he did manage to do all that . . . then what? Nothing, he told himself once again. He wanted nothing from her; it was simply unnerving for such a pretty woman to be so immune to him.
Hamish grimaced as he reached for his clothes. There was no time to retrieve a clean leine. He could rinse the one he had, but it would not be dry before he was to meet with Meriel. With a sigh, he began to put the dirty garments on, comforted by the knowledge that she would not admonish him—not out loud and not inwardly. That was one of the reasons he loved her.
Hamish paused in mid-motion. It was one thing to care for Meriel, but love?
He had begun to enjoy her company the moment they started to become friends. As their friendship had grown, so had his feelings and admiration. And as far as attraction, he had always been drawn to beautiful women. But love? How in hell did you know if you were in it or not?
Groaning with frustration, Hamish reached down and gathered his sword, then began the hike up the hill to the castle. By now he should have known exactly what love was and how it felt to be in it. When barely old enough to be called a man, he had been so completely entranced by a woman, he thought his adoration could never dissipate. Over the years, he recognized that attraction—even when most mesmerizing—was not the same as love. Something more was required, especially if marriage was ever to be considered.
Hamish had thought he could love Wyenda because he understood her, and for a while had been incredibly attracted to her. But once again, he had discovered something was missing. With Meriel, he was not acting like the lovesick fool he had been in his youth. And yet he eagerly looked forward to each meeting. He wanted to be around her. She made him feel alive, not just physically but emotionally, and each time they parted he longed for the next time they would meet. Wasn’t that love? And if so, what did that mean?
The moment Conor returned, Craig was going to demand that she leave with him and go back home. Did he intend to convince her to stay? What would she think if he asked her to marry him? Mo creach! How would Craig react?
Walking through the gatehouse, Hamish realized that last question was one he could answer. Simply put, he was no longer concerned with his friend’s feelings. If Craig did love Meriel, he was a fool for not saying so and acting on it, and Hamish was not inclined to honor a fool.
Meriel had had her chance to win Craig’s heart. Now it was his turn to try to win hers.
“Are you ready?” Hamish asked with a lopsided, mischievous grin that caused Meriel to laugh as she took the offered reins.
His thick auburn hair, which he normally allowed to hang loose around his shoulders, was pulled back into a ponytail, so that when he smiled, she suspected she was getting a glimpse of what Hamish had looked like as a boy. “I thought I was, but now, holding Merry’s reins, I am not sure. But if you help me up—”
Hamish stopped her. “Let’s not attempt to do any riding until we are out of the castle. Do you think you can walk Merry?”
Meriel glanced up at the towering horse and swallowed. “If I have to,” she answered.
Hamish was surprised to see her trepidation at just walking the horse—a small, docile animal in comparison to most Highland mounts. He was about to ask about it when he saw a heavy door swing open. Hamish pointed his chin toward the Lower Hall behind her and said, “I believe we are going to have a spy join us.”
“Did you have any doubt?” Meriel asked. “The man cannot decide whether he likes me as a woman or as a sister, but either way he would feel compelled to monitor today’s outing.”
Hamish frowned but said nothing as he took both sets of reins and headed toward the gatehouse. Meriel, misinterpreting his reaction, asked, “Are all men so pigheaded? Or is it only you McTiernays?”
“You forget. I am not a true McTiernay.”
Meriel followed, glad Hamish had
offered to take Merry’s reins and guide them through the maze of people and out of the castle walls to wherever they were headed. “That’s right. You said there were many reasons for your being loyal to the McTiernays, but never mentioned them.”
“None of them are interesting, I assure you,” he said.
“I suspect they are, and more importantly, I’m half tempted to refuse to learn how to ride today if you don’t tell me at least some of the more important ones.”
Hamish glanced to his side and tried to give her a menacing stare. “I do not respond well to threats, Lady Meriel.”
Meriel rolled her eyes and let go a big sigh in defeat. “I know. That’s why I said I was only half tempted, but I would like to know why you left your clan and came to be with the McTiernays.”
Hamish sighed. “I will if you promise not to ask me all the various little questions that are no doubt going to plague you with the knowledge.”
Meriel bit her bottom lip. “Sounds even more intriguing.”
Hamish could hear the promise of pursuit in her voice. If he refused, then she would ask him at every opportunity. He might as well explain now, at least in part. “As I told you before, I grew up in a small clan. My father was the laird.”
When her mouth fell open in shock, he waved a finger to signal for her not to interrupt. With a grimace, she pressed her lips together, leaving him somewhat surprised that the gesture had actually worked. “We were a small but strong clan. My father had fought in several battles and believed that every man should know how to wield a weapon, especially his sons—”
“You have brothers?” Meriel blurted.
“A brother,” Hamish corrected and continued. “Because of our ability to defend the little we had, we were able to protect our land as well as the wealth our clan had accumulated over the decades. Not much, mind you, compared to the McTiernays, but to our neighbors, we were prosperous. So much so that one of our more powerful neighbors approached my father with an offer of alliance. Not one like between the Schelldens and the McTiernays, but one forged with marriage, which, through offspring, would forever connect our clans together.
“Now my father was not a greedy man, but the other clan had a stone castle, while my father had only a small tower keep. Even more importantly, they were a much larger clan and could offer our men and women more options when it came to marriage. But even with all that, I doubt my father would have agreed if it had not been for me. You see, I had believed myself to be completely besotted by the other laird’s daughter. So it was decided. I would marry his daughter and eventually become laird over both clans. Meanwhile, my father would share our wealth to help bolster the quality of life of everyone.”
“So, did you marry?”
Hamish took a deep breath. “I did not. It soon became apparent that she preferred my younger brother, and he her. Seeing this, my father decided it would be wiser for them to marry.”
Meriel whistled softly. “I can only imagine how I would feel if Raelynd had stolen the one I loved. I don’t think I could be around her either. Especially if she took my right to lead as well.”
“It was hard,” Hamish acknowledged, shaking his head. “But in the end, I realized that I loved my brother very much and gave them both my blessing.”
“But you did not become laird.”
“Aye, and in the end, that is why I left and searched for a place my skills were needed and where I respected the leadership.”
Meriel was teeming with questions. Hamish had kept his story focused on the situation that had led to his coming south, but had said nothing of his identity. She still did not know what clan into which he was born, or how he came to be part of the McTiernay elite guard. Furthermore, she suspected that asking him to answer those questions would be pointless. “Do you want to return?”
Hamish blinked, glad she did not push for more about his life and who he was. It was not a secret. Conor knew, as well as his brothers, including Craig. He had just been around for so long that they had forgotten he was not a true McTiernay. But Hamish had never forgotten. “Until recently, I never planned on going back. But now I could see myself returning someday, at least to visit.” Stopping, he waved his arm at the wide expanse of fairly flat land. “And here, my lady, is where your first lesson shall begin.”
Meriel looked around. It was a far more ideal spot to learn than where Craig had chosen. Tomorrow the grassy fields would be covered with drying laundry from the castle and village as the women gathered to keep each other company while they worked—that is, if the weather permitted. “Pretend I know nothing.”
Hamish started laughing loudly. He could not help it. “Meriel, you do know nothing.”
She attempted to give him an icy stare, but instead joined him in his mirth. “Fine. I know nothing. And that includes how to get on top of this monstrosity without someone shoving my behind up in a most humiliating manner.”
Hamish grinned, once again reminded just how special a woman Meriel was. There were not very many in the world—male or female—who could laugh at themselves. “Before we get to that, let’s discuss your fear of horses,” he said, nodding toward her death grip on Merry’s reins.
“I’m not afraid of horses. Only riding them.”
Hamish was unconvinced. “Were you ever scared of the dark?”
“Of course. All children are.”
“Not me,” Hamish said with a shrug, “but my brother was. He was terrified until he was older. He knew it was irrational, and yet he refused to be in a room, even if he was asleep, unless he knew a candle was burning. One day, no one knows how, the candle caught the table on fire. Luckily, my brother awoke in time and doused it, but my father was still furious. Knowing that a burning candle was never going to be permitted again while he was sleeping, my brother and I sat down and talked. Soon after, he overcame his fears and it was like he had never been afraid of the dark.”
“Hamish, whatever special words you used with your brother to overcome his anxiety are not going to relieve me of mine when it comes to this large animal. His fears were irrational. Mine are not.”
“Fears, irrational or not, are real to those who have them, and therefore powerful. But you can decide how much control they have over you. You reduce their power not by avoiding them but by identifying exactly what you are afraid of, and then, believe it or not, talking about it.”
When Hamish first started to speak, Meriel had instinctively begun to withdraw, believing he too would tell her that all she had to do was face her fear—which was in her case a massive animal with enormous power. She was prepared to remind him that she had faced her fear, more than once, by traveling to and from her home, and it had changed nothing. But Hamish’s suggestion was far from what she had expected. Did he really just want her to talk? “I’m not sure what you want me to say. Horses scare me. They always have.”
The wind caught a piece of her hair and, unthinking, Hamish caught it and tucked it behind her ear. “When was the first time you rode a horse?”
“I never rode them. Until I was older, I always refused. Raelynd eventually goaded me into trying a few times, but until last year, when I first came here, I had never stayed on top of one for any length of time.”
Hamish nodded, finally beginning to understand. “So you don’t have a fear of riding at all. Horses, themselves, scare you. That explains why you didn’t even really want to hold Merry’s reins. Was there ever a horse you would get close to?”
Meriel cocked her head and said, “One. When I was little, Raelynd and I would sneak down to where they would train and break young colts. There was this spirited filly. I thought she was so pretty for she had white spots that looked like stars all around her head and ears. I would sneak down and feed her and she was always so sweet to me that I thought we had a special relationship. Then one day I went to watch them try to break her. Something went wrong and she went wild, stomping on the trainer until he was dead. I learned later that they found something under the saddle that
had caused her reaction, but by then I had seen the truth. Horses, even nice ones, are powerful and have the ability to kill.”
“You are right. And that is my first lesson.”
“That horses can kill you?” Meriel asked incredulously.
“Aye. No one should ever do battle with a horse. These large animals know everything—your weak points as well as your strong ones. They sense fear and that is what makes them fearful in return, believing that they might have to defend themselves. When you are confident, they are. So lesson one for you is to build your confidence in Merry and her trust in you. Here,” he said, handing her some carrots from the bag that hung from his saddle. “Feed Merry.”
Meriel did so, and when Merry nudged her hand for more was immediately flooded with memories of doing the same thing as a child.
Next, Hamish had her walking Merry around the field, telling the horse what had happened to her as a child and asking the animal to promise never to hurt her. It felt silly, but Meriel also sensed the horse understood what she was saying. Afterward, she was surprised that standing beside Merry was no longer quite as intimidating.
“Next comes mounting the horse. Standing on the left side, turn the stirrup toward you. Now, holding the reins with your left hand and the saddle in your right, put your left foot into the stirrup, bounce a couple of times, and then swing your right leg over Merry’s back.”
On the third try, Meriel finally got enough spring to get her leg up and over. Hamish was about to mention that one should slowly sit down in the saddle, not slam into it, but kept silent when he saw the pure elation on her face. “Let me guess—this is the first time you have ever gotten on a horse by yourself.”
“Aye,” she said, beaming at him. “Can you believe it? I cannot! Teach me more, Hamish! I actually think I might be able to learn how to ride a horse!”
“Next is about balance. Let go.” Her face went slack. They both knew she had demonstrated her lack of balance practically the whole trip from her home to the McTiernays. Holding on to nothing would lead to disaster.
Michele Sinclair - [McTiernays 05] Page 22