Her Highlander for One Night, page 7
Glynnis straightened away from him, holding herself upright even in his embrace. He eased his hold to accommodate her, now touching his heels to the horse’s sides and clicking his tongue. This time, he kept the horse to an even pace, not galloping as they had before.
Glynnis closed her eyes and enjoyed the ride. Though she should be worried about being seen with him and even being with him, she took this as a gift. The warmth of the sun on her uplifted face made her smile.
When they broke through the line of trees and reached the river, he turned them towards Loch Arkaig and pressed his knees to the horse’s sides to gain speed. They reached a full gallop quickly. She did lean back against his chest, telling herself it was about not interfering with his control of a running horse. She’d be foolish to do anything that could.
‘I have ye,’ he whispered in her ear. His arm shifted, lying across her stomach just beneath her breasts. ‘Just a bit further now.’
Her body felt alive in his arms. For weeks and weeks, months now, she’d forced herself to rise each day and sleep each night. After sitting unmoving, uninvolved, in life for so long, it was as if she had awakened from a deep slumber and was readying for...something.
Glynnis held on to the horse’s mane and looked ahead to see where he took her. This was not familiar to her. It was too far for her to walk here and she’d never even tried it before. Iain guided the horse along a different path, one that led away from the loch. They slowed and stopped and Iain jumped down from behind her and reached up to help her.
She walked at his side into the woods and soon they reached a small shelter. It was little more than a shieling which was built in the far reaches of the grazing lands and used when men were caught out there while tending or gathering the cattle or sheep. This was about half the size of the cottage in which she was staying. But this structure, though simple, appeared newer than the one where she resided.
‘Come inside,’ Iain said as he lifted the latch, pushed open the door and stood back for her to enter first.
With no expectations about this place, Glynnis was surprised that curiosity about what and why grew within her. She walked to the centre of the shelter and turned around, taking it all in as he lit several lanterns. With no windows to let the sunlight in and even with the door left ajar a bit, the space was too drenched in shadows to examine well. The lanterns caught flame and Glynnis lost her breath at what she saw around her.
Chapter Six
There it was.
Finally.
A spark that told him he was not wrong.
A hint that the woman he’d known did still exist within the shell of the one who’d arrived here all those weeks ago. From her previous lack of response, he’d thought she would refuse his offer. But he’d taken care to move and approach her in a slow but consistent manner, trying to ease her back into being comfortable in his presence.
When Sheena MacLerie first arrived in Achnacarry, she’d referred to Glynnis as ‘Lady Paragon MacVirtue’ within his hearing. It was not in a mocking way—in truth, it was more of a compliment meant, for she’d tried to capture the way Glynnis was, to describe who she was. Trained to be ever gracious, always polite and never less than a lady, Glynnis treated those around her as was expected of the perfect noblewoman who had all the attributes needed to marry the nobleman who would be her husband.
She could oversee a household and the servants, read and write, keep an accounting, embroider, sew, and her needlework was efficient and lovely. Lady Elizabeth praised her gracefulness and modesty. Sheena learned from her. Everyone held her in the highest regard.
The only time she allowed herself to behave outside the narrow path on which she lived was with him. Glances filled with longing. A few stolen kisses. But what he remembered most was holding her close in those precious encounters he managed to arrange for them.
And, when she allowed herself to relax in his arms while riding here, all of the memories, all his hopes and dreams, awakened even as his need for her did.
Iain watched as she turned in a circle, seeing the place he called his own. He’d begun this as an escape, when the challenge he’d set for himself grew unbearable. Oh, he’d been bold and proud and certain he could do what he must to take his place, but when the true depth and breadth of the changes he faced became clear, his resolve nearly broke.
She walked a few paces to the workbench he’d built first.
Lachlan Dubh, the man who had guided him as he learned, refined and strengthened his woodworking skills, had gifted Iain with his own tools when the old man’s hands could no longer hold them. Iain had brought them here and continued to use them and his abilities to find a refuge from the onslaught of demands.
His gaze lingered on the way her hands moved over the table, following the scars carved into its surface from hours of work. Her finger traced the outline of the piece of wood he’d left there the last time he’d been here. She palmed the yet-unformed bit while staring at the other chunks of wood and the fragments already chipped away around it.
The form was not yet defined though it was based on a fish he’d caught in the loch years ago. With a few hours of carving and smoothing and cutting the correct angles and curves, the scales would appear. The head with its gaping mouth would gain definition and the tail would take shape. For now, it was a rough-cut form of what it would become.
Much as he’d been when he’d sought out the peace of this shelter. Something wrought of his own hands, with his well-honed skills. Skills he knew and understood and felt to the marrow of his bones. Skills no one could question or undermine.
‘When did you build this?’
Her words came out on a soft breath. She blinked several times as though it had surprised her, but she had not actually asked a single question since they’d encountered each other so it was something different.
He glanced around the simple structure and smiled, trying to remember the exact moment when he’d made the decision. It had not been at the time she’d left or even in the first weeks or months after it. Then, he remembered.
‘About...’ he started to say, but he paused. ‘Just over two years.’ He walked to her side and picked up the chisel. ‘I needed a place where no one could find me.’
She met his eyes and there was something there he’d not seen recently. Interest. Her recent empty gaze, the one that drew him closer and made him want to be near her, was different now. A spark of curiosity was there in those dark brown eyes.
Finally.
‘You are the tanist now?’
Another question. Iain wanted to shout for joy at it, but he tempered that reaction and nodded. Lifting the piece of wood from her hand, he turned it over, and noticing the warmth from her grasp, he placed the chisel on it. A few chips and he spoke.
‘I am,’ he said, keeping his gaze on the chunk of wood in his hand. ‘The chieftain and elders confirmed me just months ago.’
‘I am...’ He heard the breath she pulled in and released. Another stroke over the surface of the wood. ‘I am confused over how it came about, Iain. Should Tomas not be?’
He thought on her words and how to answer. Her hand placed on his arm stopped him.
‘I mean no insult by my question. I simply thought that with the way of things, ’twould fall to Tomas.’ The warmth of her touch disappeared. He’d noticed.
‘It would have, but I wanted it.’ His hand pushed with a bit too much force and the chisel slid off and skittered across the surface of the worktable.
‘I am glad you were chosen,’ she said.
He felt her move away and he watched at the edge of his gaze as she explored the rest of his refuge. The need to explain it all burned within him, but he understood that it was not the time to speak of it. Whatever had happened to her, whatever reason brought her here, the damage was apparent. She was in no way able to carry the weight or the truth of his decision on her shoulders. Not now. Not this hollowed-out soul.
‘There is wine in the skin there.’ He pointed to it. ‘If you are thirsty.’
Somehow, he understood she could not withstand the questions he wanted to ask her about her situation. Her unmentioned marriage. Her purpose here other than some kind of respite. So, he kept his attention on the carving in his hand while she did indeed seek out the wine.
Iain followed her progress around the small chamber, noticing each time she stopped and examined something for a moment longer than another. Three things drew her notice—a sketch tacked to the wall, another partially carved block of wood and a finished one. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw her hand lift towards that one, but she dropped it before touching the piece.
Dear God, what had brought this change to her? What had broken her so? Though not part of his life any more, the urge to help her, to fix her, bubbled up from within him. Surely it would be a sin to ignore such pain?
‘How often do you come here?’
Her soft question surprised him again. And it revealed to him the biggest change in her behaviour, in her, since they’d last met. Glynnis MacLachlan had never hesitated to reach out to others. Whether with questions, words or a soothing, concerned touch, she’d always been ready to offer comfort to others. To be interested in them. To be curious about those around her.
Many compared Robbie’s wife, Sheena, to Glynnis in this regard, but Glynnis had learned it as a skill while Sheena came by it as a part of her being. And in learning it well, it had become part of her nature. Part of everything she did. How she lived. How she served.
He glanced up and found her waiting.
‘Not often now,’ he said. ‘My duties keep me closer to Achnacarry and Tor.’ Placing the chisel and wood down, he brushed the dust from his hands and leaned against the table. ‘More lately because of the repairs and work on the mill.’
Iain wanted to tell her he still carved little figures, even while not here. He wanted to explain how he built this place and how no one had ever been here with him, until her. He wanted to describe his work on the mill. But he did not.
He wanted her to ask him.
And that was something she clearly was not ready to do. In truth, it was more that she could not do it than chose not to.
‘The light is fading, Glynnis. ’Tis probably best if I take you back to your cottage now.’ After glancing towards the door, where the change was apparent through the scant inch of opening, Glynnis nodded.
Iain put out the lanterns and opened the door to leave. Looking around the chamber, now made somehow different by her presence, he walked out and pulled the door closed. She’d waited for him there and he held out his hand to her. The hesitation was half a heartbeat long, but enough that he noticed. Still, she placed her hand in his. It took no time at all to mount, this time with her sitting behind him. When her arms encircled his waist, he tapped his heels and used the reins to guide his horse to the path and back to her cottage.
Even though the sun slid its way down the western sky, Iain did not rush their return. The wind through the trees and the splashing of the water at the edge of the loch accompanied their silent ride back. He was glad of that, for the feel of her body at his back, the way her hands clutched at his belt to keep her seat and the occasional touch of her face resting against his back robbed him of words. Words that could be dangerous to give voice to since so much depended on the expectations the clan, his chieftain, his parents and others had of him.
Expectations he’d accepted. Expectations that would result in an advantageous marriage to a woman who was not the one with him now. Honour required that he respect the boundaries between them, no matter what affections threatened to rise as he’d spent time with her.
The cottage came into view and their approach was noted for the maid walked out to greet her mistress. He eased his mount to a stop and helped Glynnis slide down, remaining where he was. She lifted her face to look at him and gifted him with a brief smile and a nod. It was not the smile he wished to see, but it was a sign to him that she was not as unaffected by their time together as she’d been just weeks ago.
‘Have ye taken a chill?’ the lass asked as she draped a woollen shawl over Glynnis’s shoulders, not interested in waiting on the lady’s reply. ‘I have some stew kept warm for ye.’ She threw a disdainful glance at Iain for being the one responsible for her lady missing her meal. ‘Come ye in now.’
He sat and watched as the two went inside, hearing the latch drop before he moved away. From the low angle of the sun, he would make it back to the keep before the gates closed. He could always stay at his mother’s house in the village if need be. If he hurried, there would be time enough.
As he rode through the forest towards the path leading home, his hand drifted to his sporran where the carving she’d held in her hand now lay. Remembering the way she’d stroked the wood as she turned it over in her palm, Iain knew for certain that he would finish it. His flesh reacted immediately to the image in his thoughts of her touching his work so.
No matter how many times he admitted that seeing her again, allowing the memories of what they’d been to rise, and seeking to help her recover from this condition were all very bad ideas, it did not seem to silence the call in his blood. Or calm the fierce arousal he could not ignore.
* * *
Over the next day his new duties kept him busy and away from the cottage in the woods, but Iain did not fool himself into believing this would proceed easily. Or that his recurring visits to her would not be discovered.
So, the summons to the chieftain’s chamber the next evening after supper did not surprise him at all.
* * *
‘Come in.’ Iain opened the door at Robert’s call.
He knew Robert had some matter to discuss with him and he suspected he also knew the topic the chieftain wished to consider. Pushing the door to the large chamber used by the chieftain for carrying out the clan’s business, he was surprised to see the others there. And their identities and presence confirmed that Glynnis was their concern. Or seeing his mother and stepfather next to the chieftain and his lady made it clear that his knowledge of Glynnis was the matter before them.
‘My lord,’ Iain said, nodding at Robert. ‘My lady.’ He lowered his head to Lady Elizabeth. ‘Mother. Davidh.’
‘Sit,’ Robert said. He motioned Iain to a seat at the large table, where cups already awaited them. ‘Elizabeth?’ Robert’s tone and concerned gaze as he looked at his wife was the first clue to the connection of the lord and lady’s public disagreement with the woman in the woods. The lady sat in the chair her husband indicated and his mother and Davidh joined them.
An uncomfortable silence built around them, but Iain did not speak first. It was not his place nor his meeting. It did not take more than the length of several breaths for his chieftain to begin.
‘I did not agree with my wife’s decision to invite Lady Glynnis here, but ’twas done before I was consulted. Her intentions were the best, but I fear we did not consider all the consequences of her stay. We had hoped that you would not discover her here.’
‘Robert!’ Lady Elizabeth said in a furious whisper. ‘Iain, she is my goddaughter and in need. I offered her a place of refuge and safety. And I tried to protect her dignity and privacy in making the arrangements.’
The lady picked up and drank deeply from her cup before continuing. Her offer to Glynnis was truly no surprise to him, for Elizabeth MacSorley, Lady Cameron, was loyal and protective to those in her care, as Glynnis had been.
Though he did not know how his knowledge of Glynnis had become known to Robert, one look at his mother’s expression told him it had not been her. In truth, it made no difference how he’d found out for Iain had not hidden his actions to protect himself, he’d done it to protect Glynnis. If ever a woman wanted to hide, she was that one.
‘My lord,’ Iain said, ‘why did you not simply tell me of her arrival? I still ken not the cause of her distress, but I would help her however I might.’
‘Your past with her, Iain,’ Davidh said. ‘You were young and idolised her when she left. We did not wish to...’
Davidh’s complete loyalty lay with his chieftain. If he suspected that Iain held conflicting feelings in his position as tanist, Davidh would not have hesitated to share those concerns with Robert. It was his way. And everyone here understood that.
‘Dredge up the past,’ Iain finished his stepfather’s words. He stood and approached Robert, meeting his gaze. ‘I have given my word to serve you and the clan as tanist, my lord. I have accepted, in good faith, the marriage arrangements you are negotiating for me. Glynnis’s presence here has not changed my commitment at all in this matter.’ He knelt and held out his hands to his chieftain. ‘I give you my word on this.’
Iain meant every word he spoke. Too much of his life had been spent dreaming of the chance that Robert Cameron had offered—and too many hours and days and weeks since that offer had been put into being ready and deserving of that chance—to let it slip away. Something terrible had happened to Glynnis. He wished to help her, but there was nothing more than that simple human compassion between them.
‘And I accept your word, Iain.’ Robert accepted Iain’s gesture of fealty by placing his hands over the younger man’s for a moment. Then he stood and pulled Iain into a hug. ‘I wanted there to be honesty between us and have this settled.’
‘’Tis settled for me, my lord.’ Iain looked at the lady. ‘I thank you for your concern, Lady Elizabeth. I just hope that Lady Glynnis recovers from her travails.’
Instead of the usual gracious reply he’d expect from the lady who’d been instrumental in his training and acceptance these last years since his arrival in Achnacarry, he watched as she pressed her lips into a thin line as if to keep from speaking. Was it a remnant of her disagreement with her husband? Anger at his discovering of her hidden goddaughter? Or something else?
