In Scot Water - Caroline Lee Page 0,17

one of her chairs, which he’d pulled out of the way under the loft, and was busy whittling something. He’d pulled a stick from the wood pile and a dagger from his pile of things, and with Nanny sitting on her haunches at his side, looked very much at home, though somehow appearing noble.

Even though he’s wearing a blanket.

The man could wear a sheep and still manage to look noble!

Before bundling her sons into warm clothes—the rains had brought the cold again—she set more water to warm. Then she cuddled up with both lads in her bed and put Tomas to her breast while she told Liam his bedtime story.

Tonight, he wanted to hear about the English treachery at Bannockburn, so she told him the history as Father Ambrose had told her. Often, she regretted not being able to provide her son with the books and scrolls she’d had access to as a girl, thanks to the old priest. But life with Robert had been a poor one, which she had been fully aware it would be before marrying him, so she could do little more than teach Liam to write his letters in the dirt floor.

Though now, with Robert gone and everything falling on her shoulders, she barely had time for that.

Besides, the floor was all mud now.

Tomas burbled in frustration, then spit up. Used to it, she rolled her eyes and smiled as she wiped at the mess with a rag and waited for Liam to get comfortable.

As she told her sons the history of their people, she watched Malcolm watching her. She wasn’t sure if he could see her doing so in the dim light where she lay, but she could see his eyes on her, and the way they lingered on her hands as she stroked Liam’s hair with one and patted the baby with the other.

When Tomas burped and waved his little fist sleepily in the air, he smiled. And something in her chest tightened.

She’d been so focused on the instant desire she’d felt for this man, she’d neglected to notice the way he made her heart feel.

Interesting.

Liam was blinking sleepily as she climbed out of the box bed to tuck the slumbering Tomas into his hanging basket. Her skirts brushed against Malcolm’s legs, she had to stand so close to him, and she found herself holding her breath, hoping he’d reach out and touch her.

He didn’t.

Returning for Liam, she scooped the lad up in her arms, pleased he wasn’t so big she couldn’t carry him. When he protested, she shushed him and rested his head against her shoulder.

“We will give Malcolm the bed tonight, honeybun,” she whispered soothingly. “Ye will sleep up in the loft the way ye used to, aright?”

“Will ye sleep with me?” he murmured drowsily.

Her eyes cut to Malcolm, wondering if he’d invite her to sleep with him as well. “Nanny can sleep with ye.”

It was difficult to clamor up the ramp to the loft in her skirts, but she managed to tuck him into the soft, dry hay and wrap him up in a blanket. She kissed his forehead, squeezed her eyes shut, and gave one last fervent prayer of thanks for bringing her home to him, and backed down the ramp again.

At the bottom, she gave Nanny’s “guard” whistle and the dog scrambled up the ramp.

Satisfied the beast would keep her sleeping son safe, Evelinde turned, and stared in surprise when she realized how close Malcolm stood.

Close enough she could smell his leather-and-horse-and-something-else scent.

What was that smell?

Unconsciously, she swayed toward him, trying to capture that elusive scent.

He kept his gaze on her, even when he spoke. “Tis an ingenious invention,” he murmured. “The lad’s ladder.”

Flustered, she wanted to look over her shoulder at the ramp, but was held captive by his blue-gray gaze. “I— I designed it when the rains started. We couldnae do many of our usual chores, and it was unfair to ask Nanny to sleep on the floor now that it’s all mud.”

“So ye built a ramp to allow her to reach the loft.” He sounded impressed. “What else have ye designed?”

He really wanted to know?

She glanced at the sleeping bairn. “Tomas’s basket. I mean, Liam slept there too as a bairn, but once the rains began, I wove the rope through the handles so I could hang it from those hooks.”

He was studying her handiwork, and saints forgive her, but pride flowed through her when he nodded, impressed. He peered closer at her invention.

“It no’