Page 45
Story: The Highlander Who Loved Me
After spending two more days watching his brother trying to woo Davina, James had reluctantly agreed to his mother’s request to take Davina on an outing to collect holiday greenery. It had been an impulsive decision on his part, forged by unexpected frustrations and feelings for Davina that were far too jumbled to understand.
He regretted the invitation nearly the moment he had issued it and when Davina had suggested bringing young Lileas along, it seemed the perfect solution. The child would provide a comfortable buffer between them. Unfortunately, he had woefully failed to consider the added aggravation Lileas so seamlessly wrought on any situation.
“It’s darkening,” James said, gazing at the sky. “We’ve ridden much farther from the castle than I had planned. Best we return.”
“But I dinnae pick enough ivy,” Lileas whined. “Look, there’s some over there!”
Quick as a flash, the little girl turned and scampered over a section of jagged rocks toward a climbing cluster of greenery.
“Nay, Lileas, it’s too far away,” Davina shouted, but the child ignored the command and continued on her way.
Bullocks!Even at this distance, James could tell it wasn’t ivy.
The first drop of sleet hit him square in the middle of his forehead. James wiped the moisture from his face and hastily stuffed the remaining greenery into the large leather bag on his saddle. When he was finished, he propped his arm against his stallion and watched Davina chase after Lileas, the skirts of her gown billowing behind her in the breeze.
He felt not a drop of guilt for neglecting to aid her.’Twas Davina’s idea to bring the lass along. Let her manage the unruly brat.
Another freezing pellet landed on his head just as Davina disappeared from his line of sight.
Suddenly, Lileas let out a high-pitched shriek. “Help! I’m falling!”
Crossing his arms over his chest, James stood, unmoved. No doubt his niece thought this was a game, where she would run and they would chase.
“James, please, come quickly,” Davina shouted.
Slowly, James moved away from his horse and began walking. Enough of this nonsense. He was tired and cold and wanted nothing more than to be home, seated in front of a blazing fire, a cup of mulled wine in his hand.
He spied Davina as soon as he crested the rocky hill. Not surprisingly there was no sign of Lileas.
“Careful,” Davina warned, as James felt his feet begin to skid. The freezing precipitation had made the rocks slippery and brought him perilously close to the edge of a large crack in a boulder. “Where’s the lass?”
Davina’s eyes grew wide and he saw her throat move as she swallowed. “I cannae find her. I heard her scream, but then all was silent.”
“Och, Davina, dinnae tell me she’s hiding?” Patience exhausted, James bellowed, “Lileas, show yerself at once.”
A thin wailing sound, with an odd, distant echo reached them. James exchanged a puzzled gaze with Davina. “Did ye hear that?”
“Aye. But it sounded so far away. How could she have gone so far so quickly?”
James rubbed his fingers over the bridge of his nose. “How does she do anything? The lass draws trouble to her like bees to honey.”
Davina gave him a sympathetic smile. “She’s high-spirited.”
“She’s spoiled.”
“Lileas, where are ye?” Davina shouted.
Silence. James lowered his chin to his chest and prayed for patience.
“Here! I’m down here,” a sobbing, shaking voice finally answered.
Astonished, he braced his footing and leaned forward, squinting into the narrow crevice at his feet. “Lileas?”
“Help me, Uncle James. Please!”
The terror in the child’s voice changed his prayers to a curse.
“Are ye hurt?” he asked.
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