His grin widened. “You can call me Gerard, lass. Gerard Mackenzie.”
Isabella’s eyes widened slightly and she couldn’t prevent a gasp from escaping her lips. The Mackenzie’s were well-known in the area. The clan was wealthy and lived in a castle a few miles away. She had never seen it, but she had heard rumors about its rising towers, cavernous rooms and well stocked larder.
What would it be like to never go hungry? To never have to worry about your next meal? It was a feeling she had never known.
“Are you the laird of the castle?” she asked, even though she knew the question was silly. The laird of the castle would no doubt travel with an entourage, not alone like this man.
Gerard tipped back his head and roared with laughter, the sound filling the small space. It was a few minutes before he responded. “No, I am not the laird,” he said, wiping away a tear. “You are speaking about my cousin, Rowan.”
Isabella’s mouth firmed into a thin line. She was beginning to lose her patience with her unexpected guest. “I wouldn’t know the name of the current laird. I haven’t traveled far from home.”
Gerard’s laughter quieted as he studied her. “No, I can see that.” He placed a hand to his aching head, but his eyes remained fixed on her face. “But you appear well educated. I wouldn’t have expected it of someone of your…” His voice trailed off and he quickly looked away.
Isabella felt a flash of irritation. It was one thing for her to acknowledge the difference in their social standing, quite another for him to point it out. “Someone of my what?” she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.
Gerard’s gaze shifted to her face. He knew he had angered her. A flush stained her cheeks and fire flashed in her eyes. He wondered if she knew how beautiful she looked at this moment. Her bosom heaved as she drew in angry breaths. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to have the energy to strip her bare. To let the soft morning light bathe her skin as he kissed a trail down her body until he tasted the very essence of her.
He had a feeling she wouldn’t mind and wouldn’t put up much of a protest if he decided to do precisely that. Even though his blood heated, he shook his head and scrubbed a hand across his face in frustration. Those thoughts would be better left to another day. A day when he had far more energy than he had at the moment.
He sighed. “I didn’t mean to anger you, lass. I’m just surprised you know how to read, is all.”
Isabella felt her anger begin to cool. Of course he would be curious where she picked up such a skill. She brought him a dipperful of water and watched as he greedily drank. “My mother and grandmother taught me how to read.”
Gerard’s brows arched in surprise. “And who taught your grandmother how to read? It isn’t common for a peasant to be educated.”
Isabella felt a momentary prick of annoyance but then shrugged, knowing he spoke the truth. “I don’t know. It was never discussed.” She brought him a little broth and a hunk of bread and watched him greedily tear into it as if he hadn’t eaten in days.
Gerard stopped chewing long enough to ask another question. He quickly scanned the one room cottage and a puzzled look entered his eyes. “Do you live here with your mother and grandmother?” He hadn’t seen any signs of other person, but maybe they were away visiting.
Isabella blinked the tears from her eyes as she thought about her mother and kindly grandmother. They had meant the world to her and their deaths years ago, only months apart, had devastated her and left a void in her life.
“No,” she said softly. “My grandmother and mother died some time ago. My husband…” She hesitated and then decided to tell the truth. What did it matter what this stranger thought about her. “My husband left some time ago,” she said, meeting his gaze. “He didn’t return.” She took a deep breath. She was a strong woman and refused to waste her tears on a man who didn’t deserve it.
“I’m sorry, lass,” Gerard said, wishing the man was standing in front of him so he could throttle him. A flash of pain lanced through his heart at the raw emotion in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
Isabella shook head. “You didn’t,” she said firmly, attempting to convey a braveness she didn’t feel.
She sighed and crossed the room to look out the window. Pushing aside the shutters, she looked out into the clearing outside the cottage. The rain had lessoned to a steady drizzle. The rising sun was beginning to lighten the sky, highlighting the morning mist. It was beautiful and a place that had always touched her heart, tugged at her soul.
“Aye, I did,” Gerard said solemnly. He struggled to his feet and crossed the small space to stand beside her. “And for that, I am truly sorry,” he said, leaning heavily on the window sill. “Would you believe me if I told you I am usually not such an insensitive brute?”
Isabella sighed. “I will have to take your word for it.”
Gerard sighed along with her as he watched the soft morning light play across her delicate features and highlight the slight flush that stained her cheeks to a rosy hue. She was truly lovely, and he thought her husband was a fool. How could the man hold this woman’s love in the palm of his hand and then throw it away as if it meant nothing?
He studied her. There was a sadness that clung to her. A droop to her shoulders that told of a life filled with disappointment and trials.
Isabella turned to him and stared up into his handsome face. His eyes were a deep blue, the kind of blue that reminded her of ripe blueberries. Fringed with dark lashes, his eyes were beautiful and far too mesmerizing. Capable of putting an unsuspecting woman underneath his spell.
Her gaze dropped to his hands. Hands that were large and capable and she wondered what they would feel like on her skin as they stroked her body. Igniting a passion that would take hours to extinguish.
She shook her head to clear it. She had been without a man for too long and the one in front of her was weak from his injuries and possessed little more strength than a newborn babe.
She thought about the long months alone. She had been pregnant when Owen left, but the bairn, a wee little girl, had not survived and she had buried her in the soft earth at the edge of the forest with only a small stone to mark the spot.
Gerard stared back at her, his gaze steady and she quickly turned away, afraid he had seen too much. What did he care about what her life was like? The day to day to hardships she had to endure since her husband had left. Hardships that would no doubt continue long after her handsome visitor departed for a world she couldn’t even imagine.
What was it like to never go hungry? To have enough money to see to the needs of yourself as well as your family? That was a kind of security she had never known. She had grown up with the wolf at the door. Sometimes it was a little further away. Sometimes it pressed so close to the door that it’s mournful howls drowned out the conversation inside. But always it was there, the fear that one poor harvest, one illness, would send her world tumbling to the ground around her until the pieces lay shattered at her feet and broken beyond repair.
Hunger was a constant reminder to people like her, that their grasp on this life was tenuous at best. Most of them feared the dark and cold months, a time when the sun’s rays were weak and the days were short. Even though the majority of the nobility were Christian, the poor people still clung to the old ways, celebrating the Winter Solstice and Imbolc. A time to rejoice and welcome back the sun and its warm light. Grateful that the sun’s rays would be returning to warm the land and give life to the forest once again.
Isabella turned back to him and noted the look of sympathy that shown from his eyes. He was sorry for her and that was something she wouldn’t tolerate. She didn’t need the pity of a man she had only known for a matter of hours.
She straightened and nodded toward the open window. “Your horse looks restless. Perhaps it is time for you to continue your journey.” She brushed passed him, but was stopped by a firm grip on her arm.
Gerard turned her to face him. “I have hurt you,” he said in a
husky voice.
“You haven’t,” she said firmly.
He arched a brow in disbelief. “Why else would you be in such a hurry to be rid of me?”
Isabella ignored the spark of attraction she felt as their bodies connected. What would it feel like to take a step forward into his arms? To feel them close around her and offer her comfort that only a man could give.
She was treading on dangerous ground. If she wasn’t careful, she would lose her heart and that was something she wasn’t prepared to give. There was something about this man that was special. He possessed a quiet strength and she somehow knew that he took care of his own.
“I don’t wish to be rid of you,” she lied. “But the sun travels higher in the sky and I imagine your family is worried about you. Your wife must be pacing the floor.”
Gerard’s jaw clenched and he hesitated. When he finally did speak, his voice was thick with emotion. “I have no wife,” he said, as a shadow clouded his eyes.
In her mind’s eye, Isabella saw a flash of a beautiful woman with chestnut colored hair and brown eyes. She was snuggled in Gerard’s arms and the two of them looked quite happy. Just as quickly, the vision faded and she was left searching for the truth, finding it hard to ignore the lie behind his words.
“There is no one?” Her gaze met his and held. “No special woman who has captured your heart? I find it hard to believe you are not married.”
Gerard crossed his arms and returned her stare. “I was married, aye, but she is no longer among the living.” A look of pain entered his eyes, but was gone just as quickly. He wouldn’t let himself dwell on the past, on what might have been. The present was all that mattered. The past was just a memory and the future promised to no man.
Isabella winced at the bleak look in his eyes and shivered as a wave of sadness crashed over her. He had caused her pain and it appeared as if she had paid him back in kind. It wasn’t her way. She believed in the law of do what you will, but harm none. It was something she had been taught at her grandmother’s knee. One of the old teachings, a truth about life that she would be wise to heed or pay the consequences.
And here she was ignoring her grandmother’s advice. Dredging up memories of the past. Memories that should have been left buried and forgotten.
She took a step back. Away from the sadness that wrapped him in its smothering embrace. “It appears as if it is my turn to apologize. I didn’t mean to pry into your personal life.”
Gerard sighed and looked around the one room cottage that was now bathed in morning light, illuminating the cracks in the walls and the dirt floor underneath his feet. “You didn’t.” He attempted to smile, but the corners of his lips wouldn’t obey.
He motioned for her to take a seat at the rickety table while he sat back down on the bed, trying to ignore how good it felt and how just walking across the room had drained him of energy. “Sit down and I will tell you about my life.”
Isabella’s protest died on her lips as she noticed the weary look in his eyes and the paleness beneath his tan. He was still ill and it had been foolish of her to suggest he was in any condition to travel.
Gerard cleared his throat as he leaned back against the down pillow. “Her name was Lorna,” he said, his voice dull as he tried to distance himself from the pain that roared through him, tearing him apart from the inside out. “We had been married a little over a year when she got caught in a rainstorm, became ill, and died.”
His gaze tangled with hers. “Lorna was pregnant with our unborn child,” he said softly.
Isabella gasped at his words and from the raw pain that was stamped upon his features. This was a man who had lost much. Had loved much, only to have the thing he cherished most torn from his grasp.
She had a feeling Gerard had been wandering far from home for some time. Afraid to return and confront the memories that haunted him at every turn. Tormented by thoughts of the woman he had loved and the child he would never know. The pain was etched into his face and scored deeply into his soul.
She wondered what it would be like to have that kind of love. For a man to care about her more than he cared about his next breath. For Gerard had loved his wife, of that she was certain.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Isabella whispered. Her words sounded hollow, but she didn’t know what to say to ease his pain, or if such a thing was even possible.
Gerard inclined his head slightly. “And I am sorry for yours, lass. It appears as if fate has been most unkind to both of us.”
Isabella brushed a lock of her blond hair away from her face and opened her mouth to respond, but Gerard’s eyes had drifted closed and he was breathing heavily. She placed a blanket over his sleeping form and sat back down in her chair.
Her gaze fastened on his handsome face. In sleep, he appeared much younger. Closer to her own age of twenty-four, although she knew he was more than likely older.
She was old by most people’s standards. Dried up and shriveled on the vine as Owen used to say. He had been a few years younger than her and hadn’t hesitated to remind her that she was lucky he married her. After all, he had often said, what man wanted a woman who was close to becoming wrinkled with age.
She returned her thoughts to her visitor. His hands were crisscrossed with scars, and she could tell he was a man who was not a stranger to hard work. It was apparent he had been knocked around by life. Weathered the storm and was still standing. He was a fighter. Someone who would protect what was his with his dying breath.
A thrill of excitement went through her at the thought and she shivered. What would it be like to have a man such as this in her life? To wake up in his arms every morning and feel his hands on her body?
Isabella shook her head and rose from her chair. She was being foolish. This was a man who could have any woman he wanted. Why would he want a woman such as her? Knowing that she was wasting her time thinking about things that would never be, she quietly slipped out the door. Out into the dim light of the new day and away from the troubling thoughts that plagued her.
Chapter
Three
Gerard sat up in bed and wiping the sleep from his eyes, took in the one room cottage with a glance. There were cracks in the walls and a hole in the roof that needed to be patched. Things that should have been taken care of by her husband.
He clenched his fists as his anger flared at the thought of the other man. He made a vow that as soon as he was able, he would track Isabella’s husband down and make him pay for the pain he had caused her. A smile curved his lips as he imagined his fist connecting with the other man’s face, but then he sighed. As much as he would love to obliterate Isabella’s husband from the face of the earth, it was obvious she still cared about the man. No, he wouldn’t do anything to cause her more pain.
He could hear singing outside the cottage window and with a groan, he got up and walked to the door. The sun was already high in the sky and he knew he must have slept for hours. The thought bothered him. It wasn’t like him to let his guard down in a strange place and the fact that he had been dead to the world for some time was unsettling.
Anything could have happened while he was asleep. Isabella could have smothered him while he slept and stolen what little coin he had left and no one would be the wiser. But something told him she wouldn’t harm him. She was sweet and kind and glaringly out of place in the cold hard world. A woman who needed protection.
Not that he thought she was a weak woman, far from it. He could see the strength in the set of her shoulders and her ability to handle problems that would have left most noble women in a dither, unsure of how to proceed.
His gaze scanned the small clearing until he located Isabella by the small chicken coop. She was talking to the birds that milled about her feet as she spread handfuls of grain. Sunlight filtered through the trees and highlighted her hair, turning the blond tresses into strands of gold. Her soft voice floated to him on the breeze and he felt his cock begin to stir.
Gerard leaned aga
inst the doorjamb and sighed. What was it about this lass that made his blood run hot? Before and after his wife’s death, plenty of women had visited his bed. He didn’t have to look far to find a willing partner. So what was it about this woman that had him so intrigued? Made him feel the fierce need to protect her?
“It’s nothing that a good tumble won’t cure,” he muttered, as he scrubbed a hand across his whiskered jaw. He knew of several women who would be willing and able to scratch his itch once he returned to the castle, but at the moment, he found none of them appealing.
Isabella glanced over to where he was standing. A frown marred her forehead and she walked across the clearing to stand by his side. “Were you speaking to me?”
“No, lass. I was just talking to myself. I do that sometimes.”
Isabella gave him a slight smile. “My grandmother used to do the same thing. She said that she learned the most amazing things when she talked to herself.”
Gerard inclined his head. “Your grandmother was a wise woman. I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to meet her.”
Isabella nodded. “She was an amazing woman.”
Gerard reached out to twine a lock of her hair around his fingers. He let the silky strands slip through his fingers before responding. “Your grandmother would have to be amazing to raise you,” he said, his voice low and husky. “You are one of a kind, Bella. A treasure in this dreary world. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.”
Isabella thought about how different this man was from her husband. She studied his face. His eyes burned with a naked hunger and she took a step forward, twining her arms about his neck and drawing him down for a kiss.
His lips were warm and firm against her own and she moaned as he took charge of the kiss, nipping gently at her lower lip until she opened, allowing his tongue inside. He plundered the dark recesses of her mouth causing her to whimper with need.
Loving A Highlander Page 2