Careful not to startle her, Liam cleared his throat to announce his approach as he strode across the churchyard to join her. Craving her touch, he reached out to clasp her cold, fine-boned hand. Rather than tug free of his hold, as he halfway expected, she twined their fingers together with a firm grasp.
For an immeasurable span of time, the two of them stood side by side, hand in hand, neither of them uttering a sound, and that was quite all right with Liam. Regardless of the silence, Nora’s strong presence spoke volumes, suffusing Liam with a level of peace and comfort he’d never experienced in another’s company. Mayhap, not even with his kin. This depth of tranquility reached to his very soul.
He inspected the four mossy stone markers and lifted a brow at the two graves on either side of her parents. Nora and her brother’s names had been crudely carved into the rock. He cast her a quick, questioning glance.
Without removing her gaze from the headstones, she explained, “Tavish had them placed alongside my mother and father to convince the clan we’d perished with them.”
What a right, foul bastard Tavish MacNab was.
The arse deserved an exceedingly long, miserable life whiling away his days alongside his son in the MacNab dungeons. Fraser had taken a great deal of pleasure imprisoning the pair before he departed for home, eager to return to Liam’s mother.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Nora’s shoulders tremble. Disentangling his hand, he removed his mantle and swept the woolen fabric over her arms, tucking the collar close beneath her chin.
The breeze stirred traces of herbs that clung to her skin. The sweet scent drifted up his nose, rousing his awareness of the woman standing before him. From the creased lines of her furrowed brow to the straight point of her little nose, he loved everything about the woman.
Her dark, solemn gaze met his for an instant before flickering away. “Thank you.”
Her dejected tone clawed at his chest.
Saints alive, he regretted ever listening to Will’s foolish instruction. The lad may understand his sister to a degree, but so did Liam. Leaving her in solitude had been a horrid notion. Nora had not required distance in the least. What she needed was a strong set of shoulders to ease some of her burden.
For a blasted sennight, the woman had toiled hard planting vegetables and grain in the fields, wearing herself to the bone. And he’d done naught but stand idly by and let her slip further into loneliness.
Unable to hold his tongue any longer, he breached the silence. “Nora…” His pulse quickened with an uneven thrum. “Calum must return to his wife and clan. And since Fraser’s adamant I should lead his for some foolish reason, I must return as well.”
Releasing a deep breath, he paused long enough to collect his thoughts. In truth, his thoughts scrambled on the slight wind swirling around them.
“I understand.” Melancholy lingered in her voice.
Did she truly? Because he surely did not.
How the devil could the woman remain so unruffled when he felt as if he might rip apart at the seams? One negative word from her would gut him where he stood. He searched her downcast features, striving to string together some fashion of coherent speech.
“My cousin and I shall leave at dawn on the morrow. Alas, there’s much to do that requires our attentions. With a day’s journey ahead of us, we hope to reach home by nightfall.”
For Christ’s sake, why the hell was he babbling like an old woman?
“Nora…” He slammed his mouth shut before he prattled out more nonsense.
As a hush stretched between them, she raised her head to peer at him. Her beguiling, brown gaze captured him, holding him as her willing captive.
“Aye?” she urged him with a lift of her delicate brows.
Caught in the snare of her gaze, his usual, charming tongue deserted him. The organ in his chest pounded a frantic drum, while that odd flapping in his stomach started up again. The thought of leaving Nora ignited a possessive flare in him. She was his Nora. Nor would he bear the rest of his life without the woman by his side.
“Are you all right, Liam?” Her frown deepened into concern.
Was he all right?
“Saints, nay, I’m not all right.” He growled in frustration. “I’ve not been all right in a sennight.”
Struck by a devouring need to hold her in his arms, he snagged her round the middle and hauled her against his frame. The slight weight of her body molded to his and he closed his eyes for a brief moment as he savored the feel. Like a man starved, he tucked her close, obliterating any space between them, and enfolded her in a crushing embrace.
The profundity of their connection extended farther than the simple mechanics of lust ever would. Not to say he did not desire Nora in his bed for the rest of their days, but this degree of familiarity struck a more profound note in Liam. This immersive craving to surround himself in the comfort of her embrace and overwhelming goodness was love—plain and simple. A love he had no intention of forfeiting.
Pulling away, he clasped her shoulders and peered down at her. “Your brother’s a fool.”
The lass’ brows climbed to her hairline in surprise. “Erm…”
He rushed to explain, “He suggested I give you time to sort through your feelings. ’Tis why I’ve been scarce the past sennight. Believe me, ’twas not because I wished to leave you alone. I cannot profess how many damned times I nearly said to hell with everything and swept you away, so that I could have you all to myself.” He sighed deep enough to ruffle the hair atop her head. “I’m leaving on the morrow, and I’d hoped…I wish…” Saints, he fumbled for the perfect words. “What I mean to say—”
“Aye, Liam.” A pretty smile blossomed on her full lips, causing his heart to stutter over several beats.
Thoroughly caught off guard, he blinked at the lass, unsure of her meaning.
Nora tossed her head back and released a hearty laugh that spanned to the valley below. “Your face.” She managed to speak between giggles. “’Tis a rare sight to render you speechless, Liam MacGregor.”
His mouth hung open but sound failed to come out. His mind blanked while he grappled to comprehend her shift in mood.
Grinning, she clutched his hand between both of hers, lifting his clasped hand to her chest. “To clear up your confusion, allow me to explain.” Closing her eyes briefly, she shook her head before snaring him with her rich gaze yet again. “It took my foolish brother stating a rather obvious fact earlier on for me to realize how remiss I’ve been with you.”
He frowned at her words, his apprehension growing the longer he waited.
“You see, you’ve never shied away from your feelings for me. From the beginning, you’ve been forthright, honest, and steadfast, while I’ve never muttered a word of how I felt for you. I hope you can forgive me for failing to speak sooner.” Sincerity shone in her dark eyes. “’Tis truth, I had no intention of falling for you. I vow I struggled in vain to fight my attraction to you, but ’twas useless. Each time you aimed one of your silly grins at me, my heart softened more and more, until too late. Before I could grasp what was happening between us, I’d fallen wholly in love with you.”
Elation burst forth in Liam’s chest, the words searing in his mind forever. He might’ve dropped to his weakened knees if his lass had not clutched his hand. As he searched her smiling features, his breathing grew labored. Anticipation hastened the furious thump of his heart.
“I love you, Liam MacGregor.” Nora raised a hand to cup his cheek. “And aye, I will marry you, if you will still have me.”
A loud, resounding shout of triumph gushed from his throat before he could recall it.
“You’ve made me the happiest of men, my lass,” he exclaimed. “I love you, Venora MacNab.”
Overwhelmed with happiness, he grabbed Nora and lifted her in his arms, spinning her around. With her arms around his neck, his usual solemn lass squealed and laughed in delight, the joyful sound music to his ears. He dropped her on her feet and cap
tured her mouth in a deep, consuming kiss that left them both breathless.
Releasing her lips, he grinned down at her. “If I’d known a clout to the eye would bring us together, I might’ve urged you to strike me sooner.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Three months later…
The warm summer sun heated Liam’s back as he craned his neck, searching amid the throngs of beaming faces gathered around the stream outside the village. Men, women and children had assembled to witness the newly-constructed grain mill and attached water wheel in motion for the first time since Domnall and several of the clan’s men erected the structure a fortnight before.
The carpenter stepped outside of the mill and waved his arm high in the air, capturing Liam’s attention. With a nod and lift of his meaty thumb, Domnall signaled the mill’s readiness.
Liam raised a finger in return, urging the ox of a man to wait a moment longer. He weaved through the crowd and approached his mother and Fraser, who stood hand in hand as usual.
He placed a quick kiss on his mother’s cheek and tipped his head at Fraser. “Have you two seen Nora anywhere?”
The older couple shared a quick look before shaking their heads. The pair could barely contain their foolish grins which immediately drew Liam’s suspicions.
He narrowed his eyes a fraction. “What’s amiss?”
Elena Fraser patted his cheek. “You shall learn soon enough, my dear lad.”
What the devil did that mean?
Rolling his eyes, he pivoted away to search in the opposite direction. Though the past few months together had been naught short of sheer marital bliss, Liam could not help but worry for his lass. Especially since she’d awakened each morn ailing for the past sennight.
He spotted his commander, John, and his wife, Sarah, among the clan gathered around the village stream. When Fraser formally stood aside passing the lairdship over to Liam, he’d wasted no time approaching the warrior with his request, and John had gladly accepted the position as Liam’s commander.
Fastening on a smile he scarcely felt, he nodded at the pair. “John, Sarah. Have either of you seen Nora?”
’Twas in the same instant a finger tapped his shoulder.
Sarah stifled her giggle and pointed behind him.
Without another thought, Liam spun around and immediately wrapped an arm around Nora’s waist. A spike of alarm rose in his chest as he searched her pale features. He frowned at her in concern. “Are you well, Wife?”
Nora beamed a bright smile that reached her beautiful, sparkling eyes. “I could not be better.” She lifted a hand to brush a finger over his furrowed brow. “Stop frowning so, Husband.”
“’Tis just that I worry for you,” he admitted. “I loathe seeing you ill.”
Her grin deepened. She stretched her arms around his neck. “I am—”
A roar of deafening cheers pierced his ears and drowned out the rest of his wife’s words. Liam jerked his head upward in time to catch sight of the large, paddled trundle turn its first rotation, grabbing water from the stream in long, wooden troughs Domnall affixed to the ends. Amazed the blasted thing worked, Liam grinned with the rest of his applauding clan.
Without a word, Nora tugged his face to hers and sealed their lips, thoroughly capturing his undivided attention with the fervor in her kiss. Enfolding her in his arms, he adored the feel of her against his frame. ’Twas a sensation that would never cease to please him.
She released his mouth and trailed kisses along his jaw, pausing just below his ear to whisper. “I am carrying, Liam.”
Her words sent a jolt through him. He pulled back, grasping hold of the sides of her waist. She could not mean…? “A bairn?”
Her fingers twirled the hair at his nape. Beaming a brilliant smile, she nodded her confirmation.
Joy ripped through his surprise, flooding him with excitement. An exulted shout of glee tore from his throat, blending with the clan’s excited chatter. Gripped with happiness and gratitude for his wife, he bent his knees and picked her up in his arms while she clung to his neck.
Heedless of the Frasers’ teasing grins, he carried his wife toward the front gate, eager to get her alone in their bedchamber.
“I thought you wished to see the water wheel in motion,” she said.
He had far more important matters to attend. “I can see it on the morrow.”
Undeterred from his course, he marched through the gate, heading for the keep.
“Where are you taking me?” She glanced around the nearly empty courtyard.
He cast her a quick glance before growling, “To bed.”
“What?” Alarmed, she stiffened in his arms. “I’m well. I do not need rest.”
“I have no intentions of you resting, Wife.” Liam quirked a revealing brow at his lass which easily relayed his lecherous intent.
“Oh.” Understanding dawned in her gaze, and her comely features lit with a wide grin. “Then by all means, pray continue, Husband.”
Please enjoy an excerpt from My Reckless Love.
Chapter One
The slipper loosened from Lady Arabella de Percy’s foot and plummeted into the darkness looming below her. Once the tanned leather landed on the hard-packed earth to join the first, she cursed her wretched luck.
In spite of the cool autumn air, beads of sweat slid down her face and scalp. She wiped the sleeve of her brother’s old tunic against her brow and shifted her bare feet against the chilled stone.
The daring plot to escape seemed reasonable from the safety of her bedchamber. Yet, suspended against a castle wall, clutching a rope of knotted-together bed linens and gowns, she questioned the prudence of her and her maid Maggie’s plan.
Wind whipped through the forest beyond the outer courtyard, creating a barrage of howls and whistles. Expelling a harsh breath, she closed her eyes and choked back a swell of fright. She would never reach the safety of her uncle’s lands in the Highlands if she did not get ahold of herself. After several deep, reassuring gulps of air, she opened her eyes and tightened her grip on the blue gown clenched between her fists.
Keep moving, Arabella. You must do this.
She managed another step down, but her toes slipped from the slick, moss-covered stone. As she clambered to regain her footing, craggy rock cut into her soles. Tears sprang in her eyes, and she bit the inside of her cheek to stifle the cry that almost spilled from her lips.
Saints alive, if only she’d worn her boots. A minor detail she’d forgotten before allowing Maggie to stow them away in the stables with the rest of her belongings.
Adjusting her grasp, she managed another step and winced at the sting in her feet. Left with little choice but to endure the pain, she’d tend the injury once she passed the Scots border. For now, ’twas crucial she made it off the cursed wall before anyone happened upon her. Fear, along with a sound measure of fury, prodded her to keep moving. She hastened down the crude-fashioned rope, heedless of the tenderness in her feet.
Once Geoffrey Longford, her newly-appointed guardian, arrived on the morrow, her chance to flee would be at an end. By means foul, the vile man had seized temporary control of her home. With the king’s approval no less, a deed that still left her reeling. ’Twas simple to guess Longford’s aim. As long as she drew breath, she refused to wed the de facto Lord of Penswyck. In all likelihood, such a union would result in her death.
As she neared the bottom of the wall, the moon peeked through low-lying clouds in the night’s sky to shine on the linen gown clenched in her hands. Aware she’d reached the end of the rope, Arabella glanced over her shoulder and blew out a puff of air in frustration.
The cold, hard earth waited ten feet away.
If she dropped the short distance on her bare feet, she risked injury. Scaling the wall of doom to return to her bedchamber merited no thought. A shout for aid was laughable since Longford’s soldiers occupied the castle. For a brief moment, Arabella considered the coarse fabric, almost compelled to release the materia
l and deal with the consequences.
A drop it shall be.
Steeling herself for the fall, she breathed in deep and prepared to let go just as a snort sounded beneath her, inciting a crashing wave of terror. Her heart banged against her ribcage as if the organ might rip free and take flight. Certain one of Longford’s men stood at the ready to sound an alarm, she swallowed against the knot in her throat and slid a reluctant peek over her shoulder.
To her utter astonishment, the darkened outline of a horse—her horse—stood below. Air pushed from her lungs in a noisy whoosh. Boneless with relief, she might’ve fallen had she not clutched the rope with such a tight grip.
Why was the unruly beast out of his stall in the first place?
He should’ve been housed in the stables, awaiting her arrival. Not posted near this cursed wall, mouthing one of her fallen slippers. As she considered his bulky frame, a new notion took root in her mind.
“Come closer, Devlin,” she cooed.
The gelding pawed at the earth as though he pondered the request. Though she prized the massive, shaggy-coated animal for his loyalty and steadfastness, she’d never encountered a more reckless, stubborn creature.
“Please, sweeting.” She clucked her tongue. “I promise to reward you with a barrel of apples when we’re free of this mess.”
Not one to pass on the mention of his favorite treat, the black beast dropped her ruined slipper and shifted closer to the wall beneath her. A rush of pride swelled inside Arabella.
She dropped her feet from the wall and allowed her arms to bear her weight. The long hair of Devlin’s hide tickled her outstretched toes. Arms burning from the strain, she adjusted her position until her back rested against cool stone. With her toes atop of his hindquarters, she abandoned her grip on the gown. As he bore her burden, she eased down to sit astride his back.
My Steadfast Love (Highland Loves Book 2) Page 26