had been weaving, she could leave the world behind and almost inhabit her creation.
Could she do it again, now that Lennox had planted himself inside her heart? One by one, she spread the tapestries out on her bed, gazing at each one in turn.
A soft tap came at the door. “Nora? Let me in.”
Lennox’s tone was firm, and she obeyed without question, seized by a need to be alone with him. It may be the last time. When she opened the door, he seemed to fill the space. It seemed he had bathed, for his wet hair was scraped back from his face and his linen shirt clung to damp patches of his torso. Nora stood back so that he might enter.
No sooner was the door closed than he took her in his arms. She felt helpless to resist the power and emotion of his embrace. Melting against him, inhaling his familiar scent, listening to his heartbeat, Nora wanted to say, I love you, but she knew that would only complicate matters tonight.
“I have some wine,” she told him instead, stepping back. “Will you have a cup?”
“If ye will join me.” He seemed to see inside her. As Nora poured the wine, he walked over to look at the tapestries she had spread on the deep-rose coverlet.
She brought the wine and came to stand beside him. After one drink, Lennox set the silver cup on a small table.
“I see ye have brought our tapestry from Duart Castle,” he said, staring at the woven picture of the birlinn on the blue waves. “How gifted ye are, Nora.”
If only she could tell him how much it meant that he’d made the drawing for her, and how close she had felt to him when she was weaving during the time he’d been away, helping with the shipwreck.
But instead, Nora avoided his gaze. “Why have you come here tonight? I know you must have a great deal to do, preparing to go with your…father.”
“Ye know full well why I am here. I want ye to come with me.”
“I am sorry, but it cannot be.” Her heart ached with each word. “I think we both know that the time has come for us to part ways. We have grown close through all we’ve shared, but now your quest is ended, and you must go on to discover what your new life will hold.”
“Aye, but ye must be at my side.” Every muscle in his body was taut with emotion.
“No—” she began.
When Nora shook her head, Lennox grasped both her arms and lifted her easily off the floor. “Do ye imagine I can be fobbed off like someone ye barely know? God save me, lass, I have shown ye my very heart, yet ye will not even summon the courage to look me in the eye!”
“You are right, of course.” She managed then to meet his anguished gaze. “Let us sit together and talk.”
Nora brought their cups of wine to the two chairs near the window and sat down. Lennox, clearly unhappy with the space separating them, drew his chair around so that it was facing close to hers.
“Now, then,” he said, “tell me, what has happened to change your feelings toward me? Have ye forgotten the vows we exchanged?”
Suddenly the room felt very warm. Pushing back her long mass of curls, Nora licked her dry lips. “Of course not, but perhaps you have forgotten what you told me moments after we rode away from Stirling Castle?” She watched his brows flick upward as if he suspected she was trying to trick him. “You said handfasting vows could be undone with just a few words, by either party, within a year. It seemed that our supposed vows were only spoken to placate my father.”
One of the candle flames by the bed guttered out, deepening the shadows. “Do ye seek to confuse this matter by dredging up the nonsense I said so long ago? All of that was before we lay together in the woods, before we came to share our deepest feelings and secrets, before I made love to ye with not only my body but my very heart.”
“Oh, Lennox, why must you make this so difficult?” Nora’s voice broke on a sob.
“Because something is not right.” He went down on one knee beside her chair. As if sensing her desire to hide her face, he captured both her hands in his. “I know ye are not the sort of lass who changes her mind with