Page 24

CHAPTER 24

“Ye seem different down there than ye do up here,” Anna said, clinging to Gordon’s back with far less fear than she’d had before.

She didn’t say as much, but Gordon could feel it in the more relaxed loop of her arms around his neck, and the way her head kept turning out toward the sea to admire the view. Plus, she’d insisted on carrying the now-empty picnic basket, which dangled from her hand and bounced awkwardly against his chest.

“ Ye were different comin’ down than ye are headin’ back up,” he countered, trudging up the cliff steps, away from the cove he adored so much.

I dinnae think anyone would make me laugh again…

The thought crept in unbidden, for he hadn’t yet decided how to feel about the incident. To her credit, Anna hadn’t made a jest of the fact she’d managed to get him to laugh, nor had she brought attention to it.

“Aye, I suppose so,” she murmured pensively. “I still had a few pawns left. I daenae imagine ye’d let me ask the last of me questions, would ye?”

He concealed a smile, grateful that she couldn’t see his face. “Ye can ask ‘em, but it doesnae mean I’ll answer.”

She was silent for a while, but he could practically hear the cogs clanking in her mind as she decided what to ask. Indeed, he would have been somewhat disappointed if the game had ended down there on the beach.

“Where did ye learn to do… that ?” she said, at last, in a hushed voice, like she didn’t wish to make the cliffside blush.

It took all the willpower he possessed not to chuckle, for he couldn’t afford to loosen the reins on his discipline again. Already, he was worried that she had put a crack in his armor, where mirth might spill out if he wasn’t careful.

Most of the castle will think I’ve gone mad if I suddenly start laughin’ and smilin’ all the time.

“Dinnae ask questions ye daenae actually want the answer to,” he replied gruffly.

He had never experienced it himself, but David had warned him that brides had a tendency to get jealous. Not that there was anything for Anna to be jealous of, when his past experiences had merely been the education and she, as it turned out, was the purpose of it.

Her grip tightened around his neck, her head appearing over his shoulder. “I wouldnae ask if I dinnae want to ken the answer. I’m curious. As me betrothed, ye ought to reward me curiosity.” She hesitated. “I promise, I willnae mind.”

He was spared from testing David’s theory of bridal jealousy by the man himself, shouting down from the top of the cliff.

“M’Laird! Is that ye?”

“Who else would it be?” Gordon shouted back.

A soft, startled gasp escaped Anna, a ripple of shock moving through her body; Gordon felt the vibration of it, shivering through him. The sensation made him consider taking his betrothed straight to his study, or to his chambers, to begin their second ‘engagement.’

“Do ye think he saw?” she whispered.

Gordon tutted under his breath. “Ye have such little faith in me. Nay one could see, even if they were lookin’ for us.”

“But how can ye be certain of that?” she pressed. “Have ye… taken other lasses there before?”

He heard the faint note of jealousy, just for a second. “I ken because I sat there for an entire winter’s day once, with a fire goin’ an’ all, and nay one of the castle guards could find me.” He readjusted his grip on her thighs. “When I returned, I showed ‘em where I was… only to realize ye cannae see that spot from above.”

A quiet sigh, carrying the essence of relief, whispered against his cheek. “I think that’s the most ye’ve ever said to me at once.” Something like triumph fortified her voice. “See, ye are different below the cliff edge than ye are above it.”

He didn’t want to agree, so he said nothing, but he couldn’t deny that heading back up to the real world was akin to donning a waterlogged woolen cloak after blissfully being permitted a moment to shed it.

“What is it, David?” Gordon said instead, looking up to where his m an-at-a rms still waited.

“I dinnae want to interrupt, M’Laird, but ye have visitors,” the man replied with a grimace.

“Visitors? What manner?”

David pointed his thumb back in the direction of the castle. “Quite a lot, M’Laird.” He hesitated. “It seems news has spread of our new Lady—sorry, our potential new Lady—and everyone wants a peek. After everythin’ that happened, I think they just want to see for themselves that their Laird is well and?—”

“I’ll be in the council chamber in twenty minutes,” Gordon interrupted with a bark, silently cursing his m an-at-a rms.

He hadn’t just spent the majority of the chess game avoiding the details of what had befallen his family and his eye, only for David to let them freely trip off his tongue. Indeed, the last thing Gordon needed was for Anna to be reminded of what she had asked, and the vague answers she’d received; it would only begin her interrogation afresh.

Tapping him gently on the shoulder, Gordon braced for more questioning, but Anna merely whispered, “May I join ye?” Holding him a little tighter, she added, “After all, ye did say ye wanted a Lady who would stand at yer side.”

She had a keen memory; he would have to be cautious of that, especially if he was going to continue to keep the gory details of his personal history from her. Not to deceive her, but so she would not worry needlessly about her own safety.

“Aye,” he replied. “I daenae see why nae.”

Me faither could never dream of bein’ such a leader…

Gordon in his role as Laird Lyall was a revelation. True, she had never been permitted to stay in the council chamber to observe her father fulfill his lairdly duties, but she had seen him interact with enough of his clan to know that it was probably nothing like this.

Anna’s betrothed had full command of the room, meeting each visitor with the same courtesy and intense attention, whether they were a merchant, a shepherd, a landlord, an oysterman, or anything in between.

He listened to their complaints, if they had them, and dealt with each matter fairly. If anyone protested his decision—such as a baker who wasn’t happy that a young boy had stolen three loaves of discarded bread—a single look silenced them into acceptance.

But most, it seemed, were just there to speak to him, to offer their well wishes, and to, indeed, take a peek at the woman who might soon become the Lady of Lyall.

“Do ye nae think ye should choose a lass of yer own clan?” the latest visitor asked, casting a suspicious eye over Anna, who sat a short distance from Gordon.

Gordon narrowed his steely eye at the wizened old man. “Is that all?”

“M’Laird, I just think it would be of greater merit to have a Lady who is one of our own,” the man insisted, twisting a rag between his hands. “We’re seafolk, nae sheltered inlanders.”

Rather than lose his temper, or dismiss the man without response, having him dragged out by guards as many other lairds might have done, Gordon took a moment. He stared at the old man, as if trying to read him.

“If ye plant one crop endlessly, yer soil weakens and yer crops begin to fail,” Gordon said, at last. “Ye need to feed it with new life, new strength, new nourishment, then nay one goes hungry.”

The old man raised his eyebrows, appearing surprised.

“Lady Anna will help our clan to prosper further,” Gordon added. “And judgin’ by the way she’s taken to our coast already, she’s got salt enough in her blood to be seafolk.”

The uncertain man glanced at Anna, frowning in thought. Anna didn’t look away from his stare, offering a small smile, trying not to blush as she thought of just how well she had taken to living by the sea. So well that she trusted the cliffs and the cove to smother the sight and sound of her bliss.

Slowly, a returned smile crept onto the old man’s face, his thin neck bobbin forward in a jaunty bow. “If ye deem her worthy of us, M’Laird, then she’s worthy enough for me.”

It wasn’t false flattery or a glowing compliment, yet Anna rested a hand to her heart, feeling it swell with contentment at the old man’s acceptance. And as a ripple of agreement made its way back through the line of waiting visitors, she wondered with a strange flutter in her stomach if this was a place where she might just belong, after all.

Just then, a flurry of movement caught her eye, some sort of ruckus dispersing the neat line of people. It took her a second to figure out who was causing it. But as Gordon stood to survey the matter for himself, a tall, muscular, frowning figure with a mane of gray hair and a long, gray beard to match marched forward, as if he meant to lay a fierce complaint at the Laird of Lyall’s feet.

Alarm shuddered through Anna’s chest, putting a pin to the swell of joy she’d delighted in a moment earlier.

He’s goin’ to attack Gordon! He’s goin’ to ? —

“I ride off on one measly skirmish, and I come back to find ye half-married already?” the gray-haired man bellowed, his face cracking into a grin. “I’d be livid if I wasnae so bloody relieved. Me nephew is to have himself a wife, at long bloody last!”

The man walked right up to Gordon and put his beefy arms around him, clapping Gordon on the back. Among the waiting clan, laughter broke out, stilling the panic that had seized Anna in its grip: this was no stranger or troublemaker or vengeful clan member, but another missing piece of Gordon’s family.

“Beathan Roy,” the gray-haired man said, pulling away from Gordon to approach Anna, as if seeing her confusion. “Yer future husband’s favorite uncle, though ye must never tell Matthew that.”

With a warm smile, he took Anna’s hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it in greeting.

“Ye’ll soon find yerself as me most hated uncle if ye take liberties like that again,” Gordon interrupted, taking Anna’s hand in his own. And though he didn’t smile or laugh, as she now knew he could, she knew he was joking with this uncle of his.

Beathan grinned. “Och, ye cannae blame a grizzled old goat for kissin’ a fair lass’s hand. Hate me all ye like; I regret nothin’.” He met Anna’s somewhat bewildered gaze. “Lady Anna, on behalf of the other side of this family, allow me to tell ye how glad I am that someone is finally makin’ an honest man out of me nephew.”

“If all goes well,” Anna said quietly, already warming to this vibrant newcomer. “We’re nae yet through with our betrothal period.”

Beathan waved a hand. “I’ve yet to see a betrothal that doesnae end in a weddin’, Lady Anna, and I’ve a feelin’ about the two of ye already.” He leaned in, whispering dramatically. “Before he set off on his endeavor to bring ye back, he’d have shoved me in the chest rather than let me embrace him.”

Gordon muttered something under his breath, but there was a shine of amusement in his eye. “Take yer seat and cease causin’ trouble, Uncle.”

“I’ll sit, M’Laird, but I cannae promise the latter.” Beathan flashed a wink at his nephew and duly took his seat, next to Matthew and Sophia, who welcomed him heartily.

“I like him,” Anna whispered to her betrothed.

Gordon turned to her, the ghost of a smile tugging at one corner of his lips. “I thought ye might.” The smile faded. “Me maither was exactly the same.”

As he returned his attention to the line of clan-folk, Anna’s heart began to swell again, for he had just given information willingly, allowing her a glimpse of his past, of what had made him who he was. She hadn’t needed to move a single chess piece to get it.

Maybe, there’ll be a weddin’ after all…