Draco A Medieval Scottish Roma - Jayne Castel Page 0,90
replied, interlacing his fingers through hers. “But we wouldn’t have done it without your resolve … your courage.”
The intensity of his gaze made her breathing quicken, heat flaring across her chest. “I’m no braver than ye,” she murmured.
His fingers tightened around hers. “When the witch spoke that riddle all those centuries ago, she was making a prophecy,” he replied. “Of the White Hawk and the Dragon. I never knew it … but I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you.”
The heat spreading across Gavina’s chest intensified, and tears pricked her eyes. It was hard to believe that she was part of a foretelling, one that been made back in the mists of time.
“I have something for you,” Draco said finally, shattering the moment. A boyish smile lit his face as he reached under the pillows. “Sit up, and close your eyes.”
Gavina inclined her head. “A gift … really? What is it?”
“You’ll find out soon enough. Hold out your hand.” His smile widened to a grin. “You’re not getting it until you close your eyes.”
Gavina gave a snort, but complied, holding out a hand as bid.
A moment later, something solid landed upon her palm.
“You can open your eyes now.”
She did, her gaze fastening upon a small wooden figurine—of a beautiful naked woman with long hair tumbling down her back.
Gavina stifled a gasp. “That’s me?”
“It doesn’t even begin to do you justice, love,” he murmured, his voice spilling over her like warmed honey. “But I’ve been working on it for the past weeks. I found a large piece of rosewood a while ago and wasn’t sure what to whittle out of it. Before I knew it, I was carving your likeness.”
Gavina traced a fingertip over the intricate carving. “This is lovely … ye have great talent.”
“I’ve had centuries to hone my craft,” he replied, a smile in his voice. “Max and Cass both have religious figurines made by my hand.”
Gavina glanced up, her throat thickening. “I will treasure this always,” she murmured. Their gazes locked, and the tenderness she saw in his eyes robbed her of breath. Her fingers wrapped around the figurine. “No one has ever gifted me something so special.”
His mouth quirked, and he leaned forward, cupping her cheek with his hand. “I received the best gift of all,” he whispered. “A beautiful, bold-hearted Scotswoman in flesh and blood.” He paused then, his gaze searing. “You have taught me what love is, Gavina … and I will never forget it.”
EPILOGUE
ALL I’LL EVER WANT
GAVINA STEPPED OUT of the cottage, bracing herself against the chill wind that gusted in from the north.
Samhain had come and gone, and now they’d entered the last moon cycle before Yule. Winter had arrived, after a long, tumultuous summer and tense autumn.
Much had happened since Edward’s departure from Dunnottar. He hadn’t managed to take back Stirling, but instead, he’d unleashed his wrath upon the south, and in early autumn had taken Robert Bruce's Turnberry Castle. Longshanks and his son—and their armies—were now wintering in West Lothian.
Unfortunately, Scotland hadn’t yet rid itself of Edward of England. While William Wallace was still at large, and the Scottish clan-chiefs resisted the English, Edward wouldn’t rest.
Shrugging off such grim thoughts, Gavina drew her fur mantle about her shoulders. Thank the Lord that Edward had let Dunnottar be. She cast a glance then over her shoulder at the doorway behind her. The midwife had confirmed what she’d already suspected.
She was at least two moons gone with bairn.
A smile spread across her face, and she made her way over to where her palfrey stood nearby, obediently tied up to a rail outside the midwife’s cottage.
Excitement fluttered deep in her belly—or perhaps it was the bairn—as her smile widened.
Draco will be beside himself.
And he would be. All three of the centurions hadn’t been able to father children since the day of their cursing. But Heather and Aila were both now carrying their husband’s babes—Heather was due in late winter, Aila in early spring.
Gavina’s bairn would be a summer child.
The last lingering shadow of that terrible curse had finally faded. It had taken a while, for the curse was like a deep bruise that left a mark long after the original injury healed. Maximus, Cassian, and Draco were free, but all three men were still coming to terms with what freedom actually meant.
Untying her palfrey from the rail, Gavina mounted and turned the horse toward Stonehaven’s market—where the weekly event was taking place upon the docks.
She’d slipped away while Heather and Aila bickered over