It all seemed too simplistic given her thin knowledge of medieval history. Emma’s gaze swept the paths, and she finally noted the absence of any building that could serve as a church. All the old movies her grandmother loved, along with the history shows on cable, always spoke of the time in conjunction with the church.
“So, you are telling me there is no priest, just a few quick words, and then, well, then the couple hops into bed?”
Walking back to her own cottage, Aalish answered, “You have much to remember, Emma. The tales state the first Draig laird almost lost his wife to a man who pretended to be a man of God. Since that time, no priest resides in the village. Sometimes one will come with the markets, and all listen to their words. We have great faith in the words, just nay in the men. Our ways are time honored in the highlands. ‘Tis an honest custom, except for the occasional wine stain.” Light giggles followed the statement.
Laughing with the joke, Emma asked, “Does the laird also marry this way?” Given that it was the marriage everyone hoped to hear about, it seemed a fair question.
“Our fine laird will do the same, and I pray it happens soon. Though he will have a contract signed by the lass’s father with agreements on dowries and such.” Aalish leaned closer. “Do you hear anything about Declan marrying?”
Emma didn’t miss the hope in the woman’s voice. As Thomas began to fuss in her arms, she rocked back and forth and decided how best to answer without betraying any confidences. “All I know is that Declan has no intention of handing anything over to his Uncle Glenn.”
Taking the irritated child from Emma’s arms, Aalish complimented her. “You do a fine task in offering hope and revealing naught. But I thank you just the same.” Aalish glanced down at Brina and Mary as they ran to the cottage. “And what do you lasses want?”
“We are hungry,” Brina said with a grin that matched Mary’s.
With a glance back to Emma, she led them inside the cottage. “Let us feed these children and then focus on important matters. I would like my hair washed.”
The afternoon passed quickly after lunch with the girls running in the fields near the cottage and Aalish filling her in on all the gossip worth sharing. Emma agreed as Aalish commented on the talk of her settling to her daily routine and not Esmeralda’s past. Cortland had been correct. Wearing her hair down in the evenings had given way to the possibility of the initial news of Esmeralda being incorrect. Since none could say for certain which tale was correct, chatter had ceased.
Women stopped to speak of the day while Aalish and Emma made the requisite trips to the well for water. Washing anything was much more cumbersome in the village than at the keep with its miraculous hot water system that rivaled Roman engineering. Still, Emma would trade convenience for Aalish’s head scrubbing any day of the week.
With her head bent over the bucket, Emma cringed when her body lit with recognition seconds before the irritated voice demanded, “‘Tis how you watch my daughter?”
Emma turned her head to the side for a glimpse of muscled leather-clad thighs. “Your daughter is right over there.” The answer came with a finger pointed in the direction of the tall grasses.
“Dinna fash yourself, Declan. I can see the child.” Aalish rinsed the remaining soap out of Emma’s hair.
“You see the lass. The one charged with the duty can nay,” Declan growled.
Emma sat up and placed the drying sheet around her wet head just in time to catch the amazing sight of Aalish going toe to toe with Declan. “How dare you! After five years in my care, do you suddenly doubt my ability to keep Mary safe? She is as one of my own. Emma spends every moment with her eyes on your child. There is none alive with greater care.”
“Yeah. What she said,” Emma said, toweling the moisture from the ends of her long hair. She used all her restraint to prevent issuing another nasty remark. My mistake for assuming his pleasant demeanor would last more than two days.
Once Aalish had scowled her last scowl, Emma asked, “Are you here just to complain about how I take care of Mary?” Despite his verbal assault, Emma smiled as the floral fragrance of the soap filled her senses. No one on the planet made soap like Aalish.
She caught the small curve of his hidden smile before it faded and he gruffly answered, “I am riding out to check on the herds in the far pastures and will nay return until the morrow. I came to say farewell to Mary.”
Setting the cloth aside, Emma offered a wide grin for the fatherly gesture, even if she heard the lie. Cortland had ridden out earlier with several men to see to that very task. It wasn’t an overnight journey, only half a day at most.
“Well then,” Emma began, “she is right over there. Go say goodbye. Or would you prefer we bring her to you?” When Aalish teased about Declan’s lack of ability to find one lass seated on the open ground, he again glared at them.
“The fates made a large mistake in placing the two of you together.” Cutting off their laughter, he said, “Take me to my daughter, Emma. There are matters I would speak of with you.”
She could feel it, the lecture about her lack of attention, brewing in his open hostility. Scooping up Thomas from his spot on the ground, she settled him against her hip, hoping Declan would restrain his temper with the child present. Turning to Aalish, she said, “I’ll be right back to help you clean up. Come along, Thomas. Let’s go find the girls.”
The child squealed as Emma jogged to the blanket the girls were settled on with rag dolls in hand.
“Did you need to bring the bairn?” Declan grumbled from behind her.
“Whatever you wish to say, he can’t repeat. He hates the sound of yelling, so reprimand me gently,” Emma teased. “Besides, he loves to find the girls. Don’t you, Thomas?” In answer, the child gurgled and pointed at their destination.
“Hold, Emma,” Declan said when they were past earshot of Aalish and still a distance from the girls. “I dinna ride to the herd. I received a missive that my messenger asked to meet elsewhere because they would be recognized by Merrick. Since Cortland is away, I need you to tell him I left.”
“I’ll tell him. Would my da like to know where you are going?” Spying the three warriors on horseback at the village’s edge, she asked, “Should I also tell him three of his best ride with you?”
“Tell him I ride for the inn that is a half day’s journey from here. He will ken the one I mean. As for the men, aye, or he would think them absent from duty.”
Hearing Declan, but focused on Thomas, Emma nodded her head.
“Do you hear my words, or only make ridiculous faces at the bairn?” Declan asked with the irritation back in his voice.
Placing a small kiss on the child’s nose, she looked up into narrowed green eyes. “I heard you. It wasn’t really that complicated.” Pasting a sweet smile on her face, Emma batted her eyelashes. “Was there anything else, Laird?”
Declan closed the gap between them and stared hard at her, though her shoulders straightened in defiance. “Dinna mock me, lass.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she answered with a sweet, soft voice. She knew full well she was pushing his limits but didn’t really care. The sun was shining, a soft breeze shifted the warm air, the girls were giggling in the distance, and Thomas had lost his irritability from earlier in the day. Plus, Declan was leaving, so there would be no immediate repercussions. There was also a sick pleasure in pushing his buttons. For some unknown reason, she loved riling him up.
“My daughter, Emma,” Declan growled.
Without answering, Emma resumed her slow jog to the girls for Thomas’ benefit. Exaggerating the hopping strides through the tall grass never failed to entertain the toddler. Declan moved like molasses and failed to keep up with her. For someone in such a hurry, he dawdles like Mary on her way to the baths.
Finally, he passed her and bent on one
knee to talk to his daughter. Mary’s joy at the surprise visit filled Emma’s heart with warmth. She and Declan liked to bait each other, and the day’s aggravation was worth it when Mary beamed and hugged her father.
“When will you come back?” Mary asked.
“On the morrow, in time for the midday meal.” Declan pointed to his cheek. “I had high hopes for a kiss to wish me a safe and speedy journey.”
“What type of kiss do you want?” Mary asked with giggles and a mischievous grin.
“I was nay expecting a choice. What should I request?” Declan asked after a quick glance back to her. The man had a knack for knowing what she had inspired.
“Noisy,” Mary stated. The child pulled Declan’s face close to her mouth and lost her resolve as she dissolved into a fit of giggles. Her lips blew air onto his cheek before she stumbled backward, laughing. Quickly joined by Brina, the girls were oblivious to everything around them.
“That didn’t quite work correctly,” Emma said as she stood next to Declan, who was grinning at his daughter.
“What was it supposed to be?” Declan asked with rare amusement in his eyes.
“Show him, Emma. Do it. Do it,” the girls chanted from the ground. “Please, Emma.” Their mixed cries turned rapidly to begging and pleading.
With a firm headshake, Emma said, “I don’t think so. Have a lovely day with the herds.”
Turning his head to whisper, Declan asked against the shell of her ear, “Do it for me, Emma. It will make my child happy.”
Any other request she would have denied, but his singular wish to please Mary killed her resolve. It hadn’t hurt that his breath had tickled her ear and brought a soft gasp to her lips. Handing Thomas over to Aalish, who had joined them, she turned to face Declan. “Just remember that you asked for it.”
As her hands pulled his face closer to her mouth, she hoped he had a sense of humor. Inhaling the large breath she would need, Emma was able to smell the soap he had used mixed with a scent that was uniquely Declan. Her fingers slid over the skin that had been shaved until one hand nestled at the nape of his neck—a move she told herself was necessary for the loud kiss, not because she wanted to steal a quick touch of his bound hair, which was as soft and silky as it always appeared. There is no reason for me to want to touch him like I do.
She felt him flinch as her lips rested on his cheek while her pulse raced in her throat at the contact. Forcing away the disconcerting sensation, she blew against his cheek until the field rang with the sound of pretend digestive problems, or more correctly, a really loud fart.
The girls fell back to the ground with peals of laughter, and tears fell from Aalish’s eyes as her body shook with restraint. Declan stiffened and gently removed Emma’s hands from his face. Thomas practically leapt from Aalish’s arms into hers for the same loud kiss with his neck bared. Obliging the small boy, she cringed as she waited for Declan to bellow about her inappropriate behavior.
Peeking up from the child’s neck, she asked, “How angry are you?” His smile surprised her. It was the type he so rarely gave anyone, the type that softened his eyes and made him appear kind and gentle. I adore that smile.
“For once, you have nay angered me. ‘Twas the last thing I expected,” Declan replied with soft laughter. “If it pleased the lasses, ‘twas worth it. My Mary sounds so sweet when she laughs.” With a glance at the girls, Declan moved with surprising speed and held Emma in his arms. Her breath caught in her lungs when his lips touched her cheek and he gave her the same loud kiss.
It was quick, yet the moment stretched on in her mind. His strong hands held her in place, her body flush against his, and his breath tickled her skin. Gasping in shock at everything that had just happened, she knew she was overreacting. It was all a game to make the children laugh. But her pulse still raced, and she would have sworn his lips lingered longer than necessary against her skin, especially since they trailed down her cheek to her jawline before lifting away from her skin.
Laughing emerald eyes met hers. “My daughter laughs, and you are speechless. Finally, we have found something that keeps us from arguing,” Declan teased.
Her eyes rolled at his flirty tone even as she struggled for composure. The fact that her body tingled from his brief touch disturbed her down to her booted feet. They argued much of the time, so in Emma’s mind, there was no reason for the desire that was coursing through her body. “You should probably go. Once is never enough with them. Besides, your men are waiting.” She needed Declan to leave before she foolishly asked him for another.
Proving her point, Brina shouted for Eskimo kisses, and Mary screamed for butterfly kisses next.
Declan grinned at Emma, which was a nice change, though his eyes sparkled with something that made her believe he had also enjoyed their brief contact. “It appears that there is more I have to learn. But I agree, once is never enough.” With his wink, she stepped back. Angry and blustery Declan she could handle with ease. Flirty Declan was someone she didn’t know how to even begin facing.
His fingers traced the skin on her cheek that his lips had touched, and shivers tore down her spine. “My thanks, Emma.”
While not quite sure what he was thankful for, she was sighed in relief when he placed some space between them. “You’re welcome. Have a safe trip.” She waved at the men Declan walked toward after he placed one loud kiss on Brina and Mary.
“We should clean up our mess,” Emma said to Aalish. The woman frowned at her and then studied Declan until he mounted his stallion.
“As you wish, Emma. We can talk. There are matters of great import I feel the need to share,” Aalish said as they headed back toward the cottage.
Emma had the notion she wouldn’t enjoy the conversation to come.
Chapter 7
“Enough, Emma. We are done,” Cortland said with frustration clear in his voice. He needed to either walk away or give her a sound beating for her behavior. The first option seemed the wiser.
He could hear her footsteps chasing after him. “We only just started. Pick up your sword, and let’s try again.” It was the snarl in her reply that caught him by surprise.
Something was wrong; he knew that much. Despite her skill, Emma couldn’t keep the weapon in her hand against any of his attacks. She was better than that and usually more focused during their time on the training fields. “You are angry, at what I dinna ken, but it affects your skill. When you are once again in control, tell me.” His words were kind because it was Emma and not one of the men. He thought she had listened to his advice on maintaining control of one’s emotions during combat.
“Cortland, please wait,” Emma called to his back.
It was the plea in her voice that halted his steps. He paused long enough for her to catch up with him. “Do you have something you wish to say?” He knew he was being hard on her, but it was his purpose in life to prepare warriors. If Emma wished to train, he would train her in all ways.
“You’re right. I’m angry.” Emma reached out and placed a tentative hand on his arm. “But not at you.”
Hearing what he needed, he turned to face her. Pain covered her features, and he wondered if he hadn’t pushed her too far. “Do you care to speak of it?”
“I would rather fight,” Emma stated, with fire in her eyes.
Pushing her hand off his arm, he once again walked away from her. “Fight someone else.”
She ran to catch up with him. “Fine. Let’s talk about it.” Her voice carried defeat, which he could live with if it brought out the heart of the matter.
Leading Emma to the stone wall surrounding the keep, he sank to the ground, and she sat next to him. Cortland remained silent while he waited for her to begin. When she said nothing, he prompted her. “When I saw you last eve, you were still in a mood from whatever happened in the village you refused to spe
ak of, but Mary had gone to bed easily, and you were about to take a walk with Merrick to the cliffs.” Thinking about the implications, he asked, “What happened with Merrick?” The trainer in him stepped aside, and his fatherly instincts took control.
With her gaze locked on the tree line in the distance, she asked, “How much do you want to know?”
Guiding her face with his hand to meet his gaze, Cortland answered, “As much as you wish to tell. Since we have met, we have shared all. I would continue that.”
Emma started her tale with Declan visiting the village. When she explained the loud kisses, he couldn’t help but chuckle. Her next comments killed his merriment. Emma said that Aalish had started the argument, insisting that Declan watched her too closely, especially her behind when she walked toward the girls. No matter how hard she tried to convince her, Aalish wouldn’t let it drop. Even after Emma retold her tale of how Declan found her physically lacking, the woman continued. Emma had left the village with harsh words on her lips.
His temper flared, and he wondered if Aalish saw something he did not. In truth, he slept better knowing that Declan had no interest in Emma. Though he had given the laird a firm lecture on how his daughter should be spoken to directly.
“So, mayhap you should go the village with words of peace on your lips,” Cortland suggested. A quarrel between the two women would be easily settled, he believed. They were a fine pair, and harsh words should be quickly forgiven. Placing his arm around her shoulder, he asked, “‘Tis why you are so foul this morn?”
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