In Scot Water - Caroline Lee Page 0,26
would’ve thought he’d go mad, forced into idleness all day by the incessant rain, he’d found the stay pleasant. And not just because of his intriguing, tempting hostess. Nay. Malcolm was finding that, as much as he was coming to enjoy Evelinde’s company, he valued his time spent with Liam as well.
The lad was inquisitive and thoughtful, and not afraid to ask every question which popped into his mind. And Malcolm was discovering how much patience he really had, and how much he enjoyed sharing his knowledge.
“Well?” Liam demanded.
Malcolm blinked. “Well, what?”
The lad huffed and rolled his eyes. “Well, are ye no’ going to apologize for mentioning male complementary organs in front of my mother?”
If he didn’t miss his guess, Evelinde was trying hard not to laugh, so Malcolm tried to keep a hold of his humor when he inclined his head regally. “My apologies, Master Liam. But she appears not to be paying any attention.”
“Mama’s always paying attention to what me and Tomas is doing.”
“The bairn is sleeping,” Malcolm pointed out.
“Which is why ye can be doubly sure she’s paying attention to what we’re doing now.”
Humoring the lad, and seeing the chance to tease the lovely woman sitting near the banked fire, Malcolm called out, “Are ye listening to me speak of penises, Evie?”
Without looking up, she called, “Whose penis, Malcolm?” and he nearly choked on his snorted laughter.
“Mama, tell Malcolm that he shouldnae speak of his penis to ye!”
Finally, Evelinde laid her sewing in her lap and looked up, meeting Malcolm’s eyes with twinkling humor.
“Malcolm, if ye want to speak of yer penis to me, please do it in private.”
He knew it was a joke.
But St. Thomas help him, the thought of the two of them in private, speaking of such topics, made him go all warm.
But he managed a strangled, “Aye, lass,” when he saw her inviting smile.
Last night, he’d slept with the animals again. He told her he’d join her in her bed when she invited him. Was that joke an invitation, or was he so desperate to taste her again he was imagining things?
“Five!”
Liam’s sudden call jerked Malcolm’s attention from his study of Evelinde.
“What?” He frowned at the lad, who stabbed his chubby finger at the dashes he’d made in the sand.
“Five apples,” Liam declared proudly. “If ye add two more—that’s these dashes, see?—to the three ye already have, ye’d have five apples!”
Forcing his attention back where it belonged, Malcolm nodded. “Excellent.” Quickly, he brushed away the dashes and drew three more circles. “How about now?”
“Six apples?”
Malcolm nodded. “If I have six apples, and want to divide them evenly between ye and me and yer mother, how many apples would we each get?”
The lad frowned down at the sketch. “What do ye mean?”
“If we each got one apple, how many apples would that be?”
Liam’s little brow wrinkled in concentration as he stared at the circles in the sand, then glanced at his own fingers. “Three? But there are six apples.”
“Aye,” Malcolm urged gently. “So how could we divide the apples evenly between us?”
Muttering to himself, the lad leaned forward and jabbed a finger at each of the first three circles, then did it a second time. He frowned down at them, idly drawing lines through their pretend apples.
Malcolm realized he was holding his breath, waiting for the lad to work his way through the problem. When he glanced up, he realized the lad’s mother was doing the same, leaning forward in her chair, her sewing gripped tightly in her lap, her green eyes locked on her son.
Liam blew out a breath and peeked up at Malcolm from under a thatch of shaggy black hair. “Two? We’d each get two apples?”
“Excellent!” Malcolm’s face creased into a smile. “Ye’ve just done division, lad! I didnae think my own brother Rocque could do it so well!”
When he nodded proudly, the lad beamed.
“Am I older than Rocque?”
“Nay.” Malcolm leaned forward and wiped the sand smooth once more, winking at Liam. “He and I were born the same day—we’re twins. He’s twice as braw as I am, but I’m twice as smart.”
“He’s bigger than ye?” Liam’s eyes rounded with awe.
Chuckling, Malcolm confessed the truth. “All of my brothers are bigger than me, and they dinnae let me forget that.” He tapped a forefinger against his temple. “But I dinnae let them forget that brains are more important than brawn most days.”
The lad was nodding. “When I grow up, I want to be as smart as ye, Malcolm. Will ye teach