The Memory of Her Kiss
Page 29
Anice bit her lip. “To my family.”
“This is your family, lass,” this, sadly, believing she’d made up her mind.
“I love you all, but what do I do? Why am I here? I add nothing. I contribute nothing.”
“Goddamn it!”
Now Anice’s brows bent down over her bright eyes. “Torren!”
He growled at her, wrinkling up his nose so tightly Anice thought words were trapped inside. Yanking his hand free, he returned to the stables while Anice stared gape-jawed at him. A minute later, she was forced to jump out of the way as he emerged atop one of the huge destriers and trotted out of the yard, clopping through the tunnel and down the slope.
Anice slapped her hands onto her hips and huffed out a frustrated breath, then stomped away herself.
GREGOR TURNED IN THE saddle, upon hearing a fast approaching rider. He relaxed when he saw Torren and did not mistake the angry expression on his captain’s face.
Torren stopped so abruptly, the horse reared a bit, pawing the air. Gregor’s horse danced. Without preamble, Torren asked what Gregor intended to do with Anice.
Gregor frowned at his captain. “What do you mean?” But he knew well the answer to this.
“You ain’t wedding the Duncan lass, so get on with it—or someone else will!”
No, he certainly would not be wedding Nathara. Unlike her father and brother, Nathara had been spared, but with the admonition that her best hope was to wed her strongest and most honorable soldier and rebuild Sketraw and the Duncans to be better than they were. Gregor frowned at his captain. “Someone else?”
“More than half are in love with her!”
A tic snapped repeatedly in Gregor’s cheek. “You as well, Torren?”
“I’m no a eunuch,” Torren said without a shred of guilt. “But she’s got eyes only for you,” he scratched his fingers through his beard, “and somehow that seems right to me. But I tell you, if you let her go, or somehow shite all over that, they’ll be plenty to pick up the pieces. There’s a handful that’d do well by her, who’d keep her warm and fed, and happy as long as they no tried to change her, give her bairns so she realizes there’s perfect purpose in that.” Torren seemed to lose himself in thought but added, “Hearts like hers, they should have bairns to love.”
Gregor gave some thought to Anice as a mother, holding a baby, a child with brilliant blue eyes. And he knew, right then, that’s what he wanted, and he wanted it with her. She would embrace motherhood. Good Lord, she’d be a natural. Anice’s child—their child!—would never not know love.
When Gregor said nothing immediately and while an image of Anice rubbing a hand over her plump belly overwhelmed him, Torren pressed, “She’s asked me to take her home.”
“Home?” He gave no thought to his further response, the words just spilled out. “Stonehaven is her home.”
“And?”
Gregor stared at Torren, who lifted his heavy brows, waiting.
“I need to marry her.”
Torren chuckled and relaxed. “Aye, you do.”
Gregor glanced up at his friend. “If she bears a child, and it hasn’t her blue eyes, I’ll be right pissed.”
“I’ll pray for lads. I’m too old to be defending lasses with eyes like hers.”
GREGOR WENT IN SEARCH of Anice. He’d known, even as he’d said the words to her the other night, that he would not—could not—send her away again. It had been his anxiety speaking, the image of Anice embroiled in the fight in Stoney having been so fresh in his mind. He feared if he did send her away, she was not likely to return ever again. He’d then been distracted, the siege upon Sketraw having taken its toll on him. A battle of two volunteer armies was one thing, but bringing a war to a keep, where innocents lived, had never sat right with him. And while he’d instructed his army that persons not garbed in the conspicuous Duncan uniform were not to be harmed in any way, the casualties did include some of these. More guilt.
Jesu, he was tired. Tired of war. Tired of killing. Sick of it all.
He found Anice on the beach.
Home. Yes, indeed.
She sat with her reeds about her. Or tried to. As he strode through the sand to her, she jumped up, chasing a woven sphere the wind bounced across the surface of the sand. She managed to catch it but turned to find several more blowing away. She bobbed from one to the next, plucking each rolling ball until they were all collected. She stood straight, her arms hugging the silly things to her chest, and realized Gregor’s coming.
Just beyond her, he saw the silhouette of the fishing boat returning. Arms waved. He assumed it was Kinnon and the lads, but he set his gaze again on Anice.
Her eyes widened as her simple gown was lifted by the mischievous sea breeze, giving him a fine glimpse of her ankles, shins, and knees.
Gregor smiled and lifted a brow at her, stopping as he stood in front of her.
“You canna go back to Inesfree,” he said bluntly. “You’ll no leave Stonehaven again.”
Her face fell. She looked wary. She parted her lips but said nothing, just stood there clutching those reed balls.
“You’ll marry me instead, and you’ll stay here, and we’ll have some bairns.” As soon as the words were out, Gregor felt lighter. Freer. Was this all he needed? Just Anice? He smiled.
Her response was not as expected. She appeared perplexed, her eyes moving left and right before they found his again.
“Gregor, are you asking me or telling me?”
“Aye.”
She raised a brow at him and waited.
“Aye,” he said again, and willed his brain to unscramble, to lose the near giddy pleasure that enveloped him now, having settled this in his mind, having said these words to her. God, it felt good.
“Torren said—”
“Aye, now, none of that, lass. You might as well just lead with ‘Lady Eugenia said’, for all that it’s worth.”
“I will not tell him you said that.”
Gregor sighed and started over. “I canna let you go. I canna have you here and no...no touch you again. You disturb me so, I—” and then, more to himself, on a sigh, “I should have practiced this a wee bit more.” He looked to Anice for help, but his eyes still smiled.
“I don’t want to disturb you.” Just now, her eyes seemed to soften.
“I want you to disturb me. Every day. All my life.” He stepped closer, so that only the reed spheres separated them. Gregor took her face in his hands. “Anice Lindsay, I am in love with you. I canna tell you how long it’s been so, but I canna remember no being in love with you. I want to wed with you. I want you to never leave my side. I want to give you bairns.” He kissed her lips softly, briefly. “But before that, I want you to tell me you love me.”
She moved her head up and down, her blue eyes shiny and bright, watery. “I do. I have—I mean, yes. I love you.”
The boat came in, boys springing into the surf to haul it up onto the beach.
They ignored Kinnon, calling out to them.
Gregor moved closer. “Say it again, Anice,” he breathed at her lips
“I am in love with you, Gregor.”
“Say it every day, lass.”
She nodded. She tried to smile.
“You’re no going to cry now, are you, lass?”
“I always cry when I am happy.”
“Aye, then, wail away.” He touched his lips to her, holding her firmly, so much bottled energy and heat in his hands and his lips. He kissed her wildly, joyfully, and all the forgotten balls fell from her hands as she wrapped her arms around him. Gregor lifted her off the ground with his kiss, holding her tightly against him.
The spheres scattered about the beach, strewn here and there by the wind. Kinnon and the lads chased them around the sand, laughing as they tried to collect them. Kinnon stopped, breathless, and held a hand up to his forehead to interrupt the sun. He spied Torren upon the battlements so far above, bent at the waist, his elbows upon the stone as if he’d watched for a w
hile. Kinnon looked again at the chief and the sister, still kissing, and smiled at the pair.
The End
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The Shadow of Her Smile
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About the Author
Rebecca Ruger has been a lover of romance books since the seventh grade, when her mother introduced her to Victoria Holt, and her sister shared her Barbara Cartland collection. She is the founder and former editor of Glassing Magazine, the first ever print periodical all about sea glass and beach glass (which she sold in 2018, and is now called BeachCombing Magazine).
She is the mother of four (her greatest loves) and lives in Western New York with her perfectly supportive husband, Larry, and their just-ok dog, Brody.
The Touch of Her Hand is the first in the Highlander Heroes Series, to be followed by The Shadow of Her Smile, available October 2019, and The Memory of Her Kiss, available December 2019.
www.rebeccaruger.com
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