Quest of the Highlander (Crowns & Kilts #5) - Cynthia Wright Page 0,59

moment before gathering her into his arms. “That means more than I’d like to admit,” he whispered.

She could feel the power of him, warm and vital, as he bent to kiss her. Nora’s own response surprised her, for tears sprang to her eyes as his mouth moved over hers, urging her lips to part so he could taste her. Her breasts tingled, her hips arched closer to him, and then he was lifting his head and setting her away from him.

“I must—” he began raggedly.

“I know,” Nora interjected quickly, her cheeks warm. “You must go.” She could hear the clatter of men, swords, and horses in the courtyard below. Aching to cling to Lennox, Nora instead stepped back, watching as he drew on doeskin gloves and a tartan wool cap. It felt so odd, knowing they were legally wed yet uncertain if she could show him she cared about his welfare in the way a true wife would.

He turned and left the room, and Nora hurried after him. A torch burned at the top of the twisting stone staircase. As he started down, she touched his shoulder, half-expecting that Lennox would continue on. Yet, he turned to look back at her, and Nora stopped breathing.

“I beg you, have a care,” she managed at last.

“Ye have my word, wife.” He caught her hand and brought it to his lips, and that simple gesture made her heart ache with longing. “Fear not. No doubt I’ll be back before ye notice my absence.”

Chapter 17

Days passed without word of the men.

Nora spent her days in the small workroom with Mary MacLean’s loom, hoping the hours would pass more quickly if she lost herself in weaving. All her life, it had been her escape from cares and pain, helping her to forget when Father took her to England and it seemed she might never see her mother again. Distracting her from the temptations at the Tudor court, when young men had tried to pay her court. Offering a refuge when the world seemed fraught with uncertainty and even danger.

It should have been utter joy to bring Lennox’s pattern to life, spending endless hours in the solitary pursuit of creative perfection. But her mind kept wandering to Lennox, imagining him in some sort of danger. Or perhaps the men had stopped to visit another castle, enjoying themselves. What if another lass had turned his head? After all, as he had reminded Nora on the day they left Stirling, their handfasting could easily be undone with a few words.

Perhaps that would be for the best, Nora thought, her heart twisting. She carried another man’s baby, and soon it would be obvious to the world.

Each afternoon, Nora climbed the many steps to emerge onto the flat roof of the keep. Standing there inside the wall-walk, she could look over the low, crenellated wall and see miles in every direction. Her immediate view was out over the cliffs and the Sound of Mull, but soon she would turn to gaze across the misty green moors. The only sign of life she ever spied was a cow or hawk or rabbit.

Raindrops had begun to fall on the afternoon when Nora made her way back down the winding stone steps then back through the corridors to her workroom. To her surprise, she found Lady Fairhaven waiting beside the loom.

“Hello,” said the countess, smiling. Even though the two of them were alone in Duart Castle, she wore an elegant gown of sapphire blue silk, the slashed sleeves revealing gold-embroidered puffs. “I hope you don’t mind this interruption, but I am growing terribly lonely. I have read two entire books since the men left, and now I don’t know what to do with myself.”

Nora couldn’t help smiling. She had shared a few meals with Cicely but otherwise assumed the noblewoman would be busy with her own pursuits. “I’m very pleased you are here, my lady! I confess that I am growing lonely, too.”

“Have I not insisted that you call me Cicely?” The twinkle in her eyes belied her stern words. “Now, then, I am very curious to see your tapestry. How envious I am of people like you who have real creative ability. My brother is an exceptionally talented painter, but I am hopeless, even at the usual feminine pastimes like embroidery or playing the virginal.” Cicely gave her an engaging smile.

Nora found herself opening up, showing the young countess how the loom worked, explaining about Lennox’s cartoon, and then slowly divulging pieces