Black Richard's Heart (The MacCulloughs #1) - Suzan Tisdale Page 0,47

and counted to ten before pushing upward and breaking the surface. His skin turned to gooseflesh when the cool air swept over his upper body. Lachlan was standing along the bank, arms crossed over his chest. “Ye wanted to see me?” he asked.

“Aye,” Black Richard replied as he swam to the other side where he’d left his clothes. Stepping out of the water, he scraped water from his skin with his palms and wrung it from his long, dark hair. “I need some advice,” he said as he dressed quickly. He’d wash with soap and warm water later, and don fresh clothing.

“Advice?” Lachlan asked curiously.

After shoving his legs into his trews and lacing them up, Black Richard sat down on a large rock to pull on his boots. “Apparently, I need to introduce me wife to the clan,” he said. “I fear I dunnae ken the best way to do that.”

Lachlan thought on the matter only briefly. “I reckon a grand feast is in order,” he said.

“We will barely have enough to see us through the next winter,” Black Richard reminded him. “A grand feast is out of the question.” He was not being selfish, simply practical.

Rubbing his stubbled jaw with his palm, Lachlan continued to think on the matter. “Ye could gather the clan this night, before the evening meal. Bring her out to the stairs or the bloody balcony she seems to be so fond of.”

Black Richard was glad that his friend was just as upset over the afternoon’s incident as he. It made him feel far less a fool knowing he wasn’t over reacting. “’Tis glad I am that my anger is justified,” he told him.

Lachlan’s eyes grew wide with incredulity. “I cannae believe ye thought it was nae,” he said. “Had that been my own wife? I would have been quite tempted to turn her over me knee.”

While that thought had crossed his own mind, he knew he couldn’t have done that any more than he could have watched her fall to her death. “As sorely tempted as I was, I ken that could she see properly, she would never have taken such a risk.”

Lachlan supposed he could find no fault in that argument. “Still, she scared the bloody hell out of me!” he groused.

“How do ye think I felt?” Black Richard asked. “She took ten years off me life and I dunnae have it to spare.” With his boots laced, he pushed himself to his feet. “There be more to tell ye,” he said as he grabbed his tunic and pulled it on.

Curious, Lachlan took a deep breath and waited for his cousin to explain.

“It seems me wife is not completely blind.”

Lachlan’s eyes grew as wide and round as trenchers. “What do ye mean not completely blind?”

Black Richard slapped him on the back and explained what he had only just learned whilst they walked back to the keep.

Lachlan, stunned, found it quite difficult to believe. Letting out a low whistle, he gave a slight shake of his head. “I have never heard of such a thing,” he admitted.

Black Richard thought back to his conversation with Donald. “Have ye ever heard of spectacles?” he asked.

Drawing his brow inward, Lachlan shook his head once again. “Spectacles?”

“Little round pieces of glass ye set on the bridge of yer nose,” Black Richard explained. “Supposedly, when made correctly, they can help someone like Aeschene to see.”

Lachlan came to an abrupt halt, astonishment evident in his countenance and eyes. “Ye jest,” he said.

“Nay, I dunnae jest,” Black Richard said. “I would appreciate it if ye would keep that bit of knowledge betwixt us. The last thing I ever want is for me wife to learn such a thing is even possible.”

Raising a brow, Lachlan said, “But why would ye not want her to see?” He knew the answer and immediately felt foolish for even asking.

“And have her see what she has unwittingly married?” Black Richard asked, rhetorically of course. Giving a slight shake of his head, he went on to say, “Nay. ’Tis best she never kens. ’Tis best she never sees what Maitland Chisolm did to me.” He gave the matter a little more thought. “Besides, ‘twould undoubtedly cost me a king’s ransom to procure.”

Cost aside, he knew ’twas best for all concerned that his wife never be able to see his mangled face clearly.

Aeschene was relieved when Marisse finally returned. Eager to hear what information she had gleaned from Black Richard, she sat on the chair in Marisse’s bed