The Highland Laird (Lords of the Highlands #8) - Amy Jarecki Page 0,48
toe. After all, he was a water dog.
“What do you see?” Ciar whispered behind her, his breath warm on her neck.
“I see endless possibilities, the miracle of nature surrounding us abundant with tranquility.” The wind picked up her hair. “What do you see?”
“Waves rolling capped with white foam. The craggy banks on either side that protect this wee strip of stony beach. In the distance to the right is the grand Isle of Mull, where MacLean’s Duart Castle stands. And to the left is the mainland.”
“Your lands?”
“The end of my lands is beneath our feet. Dunollie sits to the north.”
“Then…are we on the southern end of Kerrera?”
“Very good.” He took her hand and continued on. “Come see the keep.”
Albert yipped, shaking and spattering droplets of water.
Laughing, she dabbed the moisture from her cheeks. “I think he likes it here.”
“He likes to run.”
Emma didn’t much care for running at all. Doing so usually ended with pain, though she might give it a go with Ciar. “When you hold my hand I feel confident enough to run.”
She bit her lip. Had she just spoken her thoughts aloud?
Aye.
And so what if she had?
He’d just seen her naked. Moreover, she’d allowed him to help her don her stockings. To have his gentle fingers whisk over her skin made her heart soar, her breath tremble.
What had he felt when he stepped inside the vault and saw her backside? Did he feel the same as she? His voice had grown gruff. Had he wanted to kiss her again?
Though Emma had been mortified when he’d found her bathing, she’d suddenly had an overwhelming urge to kiss him.
But well-bred women didn’t ask important lairds to kiss them. Such a thing wasn’t done.
Not ever!
She gripped his hand tighter as he pulled her up a slope.
“We’re coming to a set of stairs.”
“How many?”
“Five.” He stopped. “Are you ready?”
Emma found the rail with her free hand. “Lead on, sir,” she said, though her mind was anywhere rather than the steps. She was far more interested in the coarse calluses on Ciar’s palms. Like all Highlanders, he practiced swordsmanship daily. He was a respected cattleman like her brother, which required a great deal of backbreaking work.
“Here we are.” His voice echoed as if they were between the walls of a narrow glen. “This was once the hall.”
“Was it a large hall?”
“Big enough for kin, I suppose. My ancestors oversaw the shipping trade from this post.”
“Fascinating.”
The coo of pigeons and the squawk of gulls swarmed above. “There’s no roof.”
“The ceiling and floorboards have rotted away, and now you can see up through the walls of all five stories and watch the clouds pass overhead.”
“Not much use in the rain.” Emma turned her ear. “But the pigeons like it.”
“That’s because they’re roosting in the masonry. They’ve made nests in what remains of old hearths.”
“The hearths are still intact?”
“They’re hewn of stone and mortar. They look odd, though, depressed into the walls high above our heads. Lonely, waiting in vain for someone to kindle a fire within them.”
Shivering, Emma scooted closer to Ciar. “Do you think ghosts are here?”
“Nay.” He snorted. “If they were, they’ve been supplanted by the pigeons.”
She laughed at his humor, as she felt his nearness, felt the warmth radiating off him. Would it be too audacious if she mentioned their kiss? Could she ask him if he enjoyed it?
What if he did not? What if he didn’t even remember kissing her?
Goodness, she could be ruined merely by her thoughts. But aren’t I already ruined?
After all, she’d ridden to Fort William with a lad she barely knew. She’d broken into a government fort and freed an important prisoner. And now she was in hiding with that very man. A braw, handsome, loving Highlander.
Dunollie.
She’d been so fond of Ciar all her life. “Since I am ruined,” she blurted, “I’m happy it is with you.”
“I beg your pardon?” he asked as if she’d uttered a blasphemy.
“You cannot think for one minute Robert will be able to arrange my marriage after all I’ve done in the past two days.”
“If any man utters a word about ruination, he will face me.”
“No one need speak it. ’Tis a fact.” Emma almost smiled. What did it matter if she was ruined? She’d already known her destiny was to live out her days at Glenmoriston. In fact, this adventure was the most exciting time of her life. It might be the only exciting thing that would ever happen to her.
She tilted her face toward the sound of his voice.