In Scot Water - Caroline Lee Page 0,31
the chickens?” That was Liam’s chore.
But Malcolm snorted and placed his free hand behind his head, as his other caressed her bare arse.
“The chickens were the least of my troubles. I liked them, because they didnae berate me when I spoke of my theories to them or when I sketched designs in the dirt while they pecked for bugs.”
“Yer mother’s kin…he did those things?”
“Aye, and worse.” He shrugged slightly, as if the pain was long forgotten. “My brother had a head as hard as his muscles and often stood between our mother—and me—and our uncle. He took many beatings intended for me.”
Her eyes dropped to a faint scar across one of his shoulders, and her fingertips lightly traced it. Had his uncle given this to him, or had he led an even more adventurous life?
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He gave another half-shrug. “Rocque and I were twelve when we discovered the truth and sought out our father, only to discover we had four brothers and a sister. Our sister, Nessa, is the only legitimate one of us. The other four are two sets of twins, born the same year we were. We tease Da that we’re still no’ certain he’s found all of us—there could still be more Oliphant bastards out there we dinnae ken!”
She pushed herself up on one elbow, her free hand dragging down his chest as she tried to remember why that tale sounded familiar. Her fingertips circled his nipple as she thought.
But his hand clamped down on hers. “If ye continue that, ye’ll no’ hear the rest of the story, lass.”
“Oh?” Her gaze darted up to his. “There is more?”
“Och, aye.” He lifted her hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss against her palm. “My father is a good man and was horrified at what we’d endured. He—and our brothers and sister—welcomed us with open arms, and within a year, there was nae sign left of our childhood. I’d been raised as a crofter’s drudge, but he showed me what I could really do with my mind.”
“And ye wanted to join the Church, ye said?”
“One time, my father took me to visit the Abbey, and I snuck away to the library. He said he almost left me there, I was so content, but didnae want to separate me from Rocque, so he dragged me home and began to acquire texts and treatises for our own library to entice me to stay.”
His father must be very wealthy. The way Malcolm moved—as a warrior—and the sword he carried said as much. But his hands were callused, so he was clearly used to hard work.
Sighing, she cupped his cheek, then dragged her nails lightly through his stubble. “I should like to see that library one day. I’ve missed the books and scrolls Father Ambrose let me read as a girl. I would love for Liam to be able to read them one day.”
He caught her hand again. “Father Ambrose is the priest Liam has mentioned?”
“Aye. I lived with him at the rectory after my mother died. I was very young, and he took responsibility for me, although some of his flock disliked the proof of his—och, it matters no’. When Robert offered marriage, I almost didnae accept, because I’d hoped to be able to care for Father Ambrose in his old age, but he insisted I go.” With a sigh, she lowered her head to Malcolm’s shoulder once more. “He always kenned how much I wanted bairns.”
Under her cheek, she felt his muscles stiffen.
“Ye have nae regrets?”
“About leaving Father Ambrose? Sometimes. Robert and I were friends, naught more. But he gave me Liam and Tomas, so how could I ever object?”
He was quiet for a long moment, and she got the sense he was thinking something over.
“Ye ken St. Thomas Aquinas is my patron?”
She’d heard him evoke the saint often enough. “He is the patron of scholars, which is appropriate.”
With a small snort of laughter, he agreed. “And my father is William. I’ve often thought that, were I blessed with sons, I would name them for St. Thomas and my father.”
Tomas and Liam.
Slowly, she lifted her head and met his eyes.
His expression was serious, and his thumb was making little circles against her palm.
“Evie, I see yer life. This croft is no’ safe, with the continued rains, and ye dinnae have enough stores to make it through winter.”
She swallowed. “I ken it.”
“I would make it better. I would help ye,” he offered in a low voice, which sent shivers through