Page 31

The evening sun had long since set and Gwyn knew she was nowhere yet ready to retire for the eve.

She reflected upon how over these last several nights she had not slept well even though the exhaustion should have overtaken her by now.

Her mind was churning continually with all that had transpired now that nearly a full sennight had past since she had lain with Iver.

The memories of the passions they shared played heavily upon her heart as the claws of anxiousness bit profusely within her mind.

Perhaps it had been most advantageous Gwyn also had not even had the chance be within the same room as Iver since that passionate night.

It was also the pain upon her heart for the impending arrival of her parents and the certain departure of her son. This, just as much as anything bit at her heart profusely on this night. She shook her head knowing she completely understood it was truly not her son but their son.

"I must remind myself of this ever-important fact that I have no real claim upon Durell."

Gwyn realized the turmoil within her own heart would not allow her to remain within her rooms even though the darkness was surrounding them.

She was restless and needed the out of doors to calm her own fears.

Without any real consideration, she knew exactly where she would go to find the outlet she so desired.

On this eve, she did not go to the stables to get her horse.

Instead, Gwyn felt the distinct desire to stretch her legs for a while.

After descending the front stairs undetected, she walked around the side of the keep and kept briskly walking as she moved over the wide field stretching out beyond the rear of the holdings.

It was but a short while later when Gwyn stood on the top of the rise overlooking what she deemed to be her hillside and the one she had always called her sanctuary.

Slowly, she moved forward and to a place holding a small copse of trees.

When she was there, she backed into their depths, all the while surveying the shadowy land before her.

For a long while, she stood listening to the fierce wind as it howled over the Scottish Highlands and that of her home.

On this night, they were raging wildly through the lands.

When they unexpectedly stilled for a moment, she thought she heard an unfamiliar sound.

When she peered through the murkiness of the night, she noticed a dark figure standing upon the crest of the hill from where she had come.

"Iver!"

She did not speak above a whisper, even though she knew it was him.

God help her, it was the man who had touched her heart and plagued her mind during every one of her waking moments.

How he stood so gloriously before her in the distance, his presence unknowingly wrapping its irresistible fingers tenderly around her heart.

For a long while, Gwyn watched Iver's shadowy outline in the distance and it was obvious he did not know she was there.

He stood tall and all alone and he looked deep in his thoughts.

It was apparent his body was powerful, his chest very muscular and his bold stature burned forever upon her mind.

It was in that moment when she wished she could touch him yet again.

"If I make myself known, what would you do? Would you move away or would you come to me? Was there any possibility that you desire me even a small portion of what I do you?"

She also understood the risks and God help her, she knew they were insurmountable.

Iver stood upon the crest of the hill overlooking the place that had endeared itself to his heart.

This is where he had fallen in love with Gwyn.

He had come to know in his heart, this is truly how he felt and he could not have been more miserable in his knowing.

This is where he had first come to know her true self, where he had first kissed her and then taken full possession of her body.

But he chided himself because it was obvious she was not his.

He would most likely never have the opportunity to truly call her his. Ever.

He was saddened for there was so much that was keeping him occupied.

If he had to be truly honest, he was concerned over all that was occurring around him.

While he was confident in the brave warriors he had brought from the McColl, he was only certain regarding a very few of those within the Chattan.

Iver had hoped he would be welcomed more openly, but it seems his uncle's years of neglect had taken its toll upon his holdings and his clansmen.

He conceded he needed much more time especially since they had been mistreated for years and trust would not come easily.

While he never doubted he would some day succeed, it was obvious it would be a long and hard fought battle to right all the inattentions of the Chattan laird.

The Laird Errol. While he deemed him a strong and notorious man, Iver also considered him a peculiar leader.

There were so many inconsistencies and sometimes he surprisingly had such little control as was evidenced by the actions on the previous day.

While the feud was over quickly, it bothered him that it spiraled out of control so readily and involved so many.

What had been very obvious was there was a clear division among the clansmen.

It was a good thing Donnan had the sense to admit to what he had done before the laird and taken his punishment accordingly.

Little had his uncle known when he stripped him of his rank, it allowed Donnan the ability to reside among the lowest of the Chattan and exposed to all the rest. Without exception, everyone needed a steed.

Donnan cleverly played the part of the despondent censured warrior all the while gaining helpful bits of useful information that would serve Iver well in his quest for accord.

Gwyn was just about to step from within the trees when Iver suddenly disappeared.

Too late she realized he was now gone and her chance to be near him once again, vanished.

The pain upon her heart was upsetting and it surprised her greatly.

Yes, she had felt the desires well within her when she first saw him, but little had she known his disappearance would be so distressing.

Gwyn realized in that very moment that her life was turning out to be one devastating moment followed directly by another.

Now, she recognized it would get much worse.

A fear proliferated within her body for the distinct sound of metal scraping as she heard a sword being drawn from its sheath directly behind her…