Page 38 of The Laird's Wicked Game
With a sigh, Kylie carefully resheathed the weapon and rose to her feet. She then pulled up her skirts and strapped the blade to her right thigh.
Makenna gave a nod of approval. “Perfect.”
Kylie muttered something under her breath before adding. “Ye speak as if I’d just donned a fine amber necklace.”
Her sister gave a low laugh. “This is far more beautiful … and useful.” Their gazes met once more. “Promise me ye’ll wear it.”
“Don’t weep … or ye’ll have me howling like a bairn.”
Kylie hiccoughed, swallowing hard to loosen her tight throat. It felt as if someone were throttling her this morning. “I’m trying.” It was no good though, the tide inside her wouldn’t be stemmed, and hot tears started to flow down her cheeks.
“Och!” Makenna stamped her foot, her moss-green eyes overflowing now as well. “I warned ye!” Her sister pulled Kylie into a hard hug, and they clung together for a few moments.
Meanwhile, in the barmkin, a wind whipped in through the open gates, scattering straw and tugging at the women’s hair. The sun had just risen, and it wasn’t giving out much warmth this morning. Makenna would be glad of the fur-lined cloak she wore when she took the ferry across the water to Oban. Her sister had a long day of travel ahead of her; indeed, it would take her well over a week to reach their family home in Perthshire.
“Thank ye for staying here with me,” Kylie whispered, her voice catching. “Although I wish I’d insisted ye leave sooner … maybe if I had, MacDougall wouldn’t—”
“There’s no point in worrying about such things,” Makenna cut her off, giving her ribs one last squeeze before releasing her. Stepping back, she knuckled away the last of her tears and squared her shoulders. As always, her sister looked ready for action, with a quiver of arrows and a longbow slung across her back, a dirk at one hip, and her longsword, ‘Arsebiter’, at the other. She was dressed in her sturdiest kirtle and surcote, and underneath, she wore leather chausses. Makenna had left her long red-brown hair unbound, although she braided it at the sides to keep it out of her eyes in the wind. Her sister looked both formidable and striking.
“Ye focus on yerself now … and making a success of yer new life,” Makenna said firmly. “Ye have made a good start. I want ye to be happy here.”
“I will be,” Kylie replied, wishing she sounded more convincing. Guilt speared her then, for she hadn’t said anything about her attraction to Rae, nor had she told her about the kiss they’d shared or the conversation they’d had over supper a couple of days earlier.
And because she was so adept at hiding things, her sister suspected nothing.
A hollow sensation settled in her chest then, a familiar feeling of loneliness. Why had she always found it so hard to let others—even her sisters—in? She could have told Makenna about Rae, for she wouldn’t have judged her, but whenever the urge had risen, she’d quashed it.
“I shall miss ye,” she said huskily.
Makenna cleared her throat. “And I ye, dear sister.” Her lips curved then. “I expect regular missives from ye, mind … not like Liza, who only writes when prompted.”
Kylie nodded. “I promise.”
Makenna moved back then, heading toward the garron that was saddled and ready for her. Captain Maclean and two of his Guard would escort her south to Craignure and ensure she safely boarded the ferry. Although Tormod MacDougall had been banished from Maclean lands, they didn’t want to take any chances.
Turning, Makenna glanced over at where Rae stood on the steps to the broch, flanked by his sons. She then raised a hand in farewell.
The laird of Dounarwyse nodded. “A safe journey home, Lady Makenna.”
Makenna sprang up onto the pony’s back then, sliding her booted feet into the stirrups, and adjusting her weapons. She cast Kylie a final glance, and their gazes held for a few moments. Then, Makenna gathered the reins and turned her mount around, following Jack and his men out under the portcullis.
Kylie watched her leave, her chest aching.
“I’m hungry.” Lyle’s voice drew her attention. “Is it time to break our fast yet?”
“Aye, lad.” Rae scooped the boy up, setting him upon his shoulders. He then took Ailean’s hand. It pleased Kylie to see him more demonstrative with his sons. The adoration on their faces whenever they looked at him was plain to see. “Let’s go up and get stuck into some fresh bannocks.”
“Can I have another riding lesson today?” Ailean asked, flashing his father a cheeky smile.
Rae snorted. “Ye always have to push it, don’t ye? Today, Lady Grant will be teaching ye … but if ye study hard this week, I shall take ye out again on Sunday.” He glanced over at Kylie then, their gazes meeting across the barmkin.
The impact of it—the first time she’d made such direct eye contact with him since their supper together—made her stomach swoop like a diving swallow. He’d given her a couple of days to think over his proposal, and hadn’t pushed her for an answer, yet he’d want one eventually. And, in truth, she wasn’t sure how to respond.
Just six months of carnal intimacy—an adventure of sorts—and then she could return to being a chaste widow. It tempted her, and it cowed her too. Kylie had never been the sort to flout the rules—but there were times when her self-imposed cage frustrated her. What would it be like, to set herself free from it, if only for a short while?
The moment drew out, and then Rae’s lips tugged into a smile that made her belly flutter. “Will ye join us in the solar, Lady Grant?”
Kylie’s pulse skittered. She had to find a way to calm herself around him. “Aye,” she replied.