Quest of the Highlander (Crowns & Kilts #5) - Cynthia Wright Page 0,94

of tarnished silver spectacles. “Hmm. You have bold dreams, Widow Lovejoy.”

“I believe in myself.” Nora spoke confidently, but she felt the throb in her voice. The days when she had enjoyed a single-minded purpose were behind her. So many things had happened to teach her that the world was not a place she could bend to her own will.

Her innocence had been stolen, and now she was carrying a child, conceived with that thief. She had parted from her father, who had been her anchor in the changing currents of life. But Nora’s biggest lesson in powerlessness was Lennox MacLeod. Loving a man she could not have filled her with bittersweet longing, more powerful than any other emotion…except her hope that he was finding fulfillment in his new life.

“The heat is oppressive, and you are pale. Go home,” said Master Mostinck, wiping his brow. “But leave your tapestry with me. I may yet find a buyer.”

* * *

A summer storm was brewing as Nora navigated the crowded streets from Whitehall Palace to Cockspur Court. The sight of her modest, half-timbered house always gave her a surge of pride. She was making her own way in the city, honestly employed and determined to take care of her child once he or she was born.

Entering through the low front door, Nora was greeted by Mistress Joan Farthing, who had been sent by Sandhurst to look after the household.

“Ah, mistress, I am so glad you’ve come home ahead of the rain,” the older woman said. Joan’s countenance was pinched and angular, but her kind manner shone through. “If you will sit, I’ll bring you a nice cup of weak ale.”

“You’re very kind. Thank you.”

The dim parlor with its low ceiling would have been gloomy, but Nora had hung tapestries over the paneled walls. One was the hanging she had made as a child, the second was a hunting scene she found in a chest upstairs, and the third was a duplicate of the tapestry she’d sent with Grant, to Lennox. She had kept his cartoon, and Micheline had sent her own small loom to be set up in one of the Cockspur Court rooms. Since coming here to live on her own, Nora had spent long hours re-weaving the scene of her with Lennox on the Sound of Mull. The galley, with its Viking-style prow, bobbed on the blue waves, and when she looked closely, it almost seemed she could see the golden-haired figure smiling at her.

Looking at it now, Nora felt her throat thicken. It was strange: All her life she had relished the chance to work in solitude, but now she deeply missed human contact. Her father, who had been not only a parent but also a friend and mentor. Friends like Grant, Micheline, and Cicely. Even her mother, whom she had tried to block from her thoughts since leaving Flanders at age ten.

But most of all, she missed Lennox. She wanted to tell him about everything that she experienced and felt. She wanted to feel him draw her into his arms and rest her cheek on his warm, broad chest. Just to look once more into his sea-green eyes, glimpsing the flame of love in their depths, would be a gift beyond price.

Sighing, Nora blinked back tears and rested her hand on the place where her baby grew. Her belly felt hard through the layers of her petticoat and kirtle. Last night, lying in bed, she thought she could feel him move, like a feather brushing inside her. A wave of his tiny hand.

“We are together,” she whispered.

Just as Joan Farthing came back in holding a silver cup, a knock sounded at the door. “Don’t you move, mistress!” The older woman handed Nora the cup and went to the door. “Who’s there?”

A muffled voice replied, “It is I, Lady Fairhaven!”

Nora’s heart lifted. Rising, she hurried to greet her friend as Joan lifted the bar. There was Cicely, looking charming in robins-egg-blue silk. The sight of her animated face was almost like a dream.

“Can it truly be you? Do come in! I thought you and Lord Fairhaven had gone to Kent, to escape the summer heat.” Nora reached out with both hands and they embraced. Glancing toward Joan, she added, “Will you please bring Lady Fairhaven a goblet of wine?”

Cicely came inside but immediately frowned. “It’s horrid in here.”

“I know. It’s almost worse inside than it is out.”

“You should stay at Andrew’s house, on the river. At least it has wonderful