She’d thought never to see him again, been certain that even her return to Scotland would not cause their paths to cross.
After all, she hadn’t gone home to her former clan and she’d been careful to avoid their lands during the journey northward. She’d no desire to come into contact with her former laird and even less this man. How cruel of fate to dictate differently. To ensure that this man be in this place the one day out of time she would ever spend in the Sinclair keep.
The head of Shona’s mare jerked against her tightened hold on the reins and she knew gratitude that they were no longer moving. Marjory slept on, oblivious to the cataclysm happening inside her mother.
As if Caelis could feel the weight of Shona’s regard, he turned. Slowly and with no evidence of curiosity, his gaze slid over her, his expression dismissive as he took in her English clothing.
She could tell the moment he recognized her though, the very second he realized she was not just an Englishwoman, but a woman from his past.
He went rigid, his eyes widening with a shock so complete it would have been amusing if she were not so devastated at his appearance in her already turbulent life.
He moved as if to take a step and stumbled.
How odd. He was a surefooted man. Perhaps one of the other warriors had tripped him. Men played games with each other like that.
Even as the nonsensical thoughts floated through her mind, fear screamed through her body. He couldn’t see Eadan. Her son could never know the man who had denied his very existence and rejected the woman he had professed to love.
They had to leave. Now. The laird of the Sinclairs would simply have to do without the pleasure of making their acquaintance.
That thought alone gave her the strength to break her gaze from Caelis as she jerked her head around, wildly searching for Eadan.
He was already on the ground, his hand held in Niall’s giant paw, a smaller man standing nearby, talking to them both with an engaging smile.
Shona wanted to scream at them to put her son back on his horse and get out of their way. But no words left her lips because as frantic as her feelings were, she knew her desire to escape was hopeless.
The boy was out of Caelis’s line of sight, but that gave Shona little comfort. The warrior was bound to see her child soon, and when he did? He would know the truth, no matter how much he might like to deny it.
“Shona…”
She looked down and saw that both Audrey and Thomas were there, standing beside Shona’s mare. Audrey’s hands were upraised to take Marjory so Shona could dismount.
When had they gotten off their horses?
“Are you all right?” Thomas asked, clearly worried. He and Audrey wore matching expressions of concern. “We’ve said your name three times.”
“I…no…” she answered with honesty before she thought to control her tongue.
“What is it?” Suddenly Niall was there. “Lady Heronshire, do you need help dismounting?” He reached up as well. “Give me the babe.”
Dropping the horse’s reins, Shona wrapped her arms around her daughter in an instinctive move of protection.
“Do not touch her.” The snarl came from behind Niall, and then Caelis was there, shoving the other warrior away from Shona’s horse.
Niall spun on the other man, knocking him back and shouting. “The hell!”
“She’s mine,” Caelis growled, his voice so animallike the words were barely discernable.
“Calm yourself,” Niall snapped, sounding less angry for some reason, though he didn’t back away. “The Englishwoman—”
“She is not English.”
“Do ye see how she is dressed? She is a lady, Caelis. Stop and think.”
But Caelis appeared beyond reason, his aggression not lessening one iota. And Shona did not understand it. In no scenario that she might ever have imagined about this moment would she have considered him laying claim to her…or was it her daughter?
None of this made any sense.
Marjory chose that moment to awaken, squirming to sit up. “Mama! Want down.”
Caelis jerked as if pierced by an arrow, his gaze landing on the little girl in Shona’s arms. Some great emotion twisted his features, and then his blue eyes, so like their son’s, locked with hers, the accusation in them unmistakable.
She stared back, defiant, furious like she had not been since the night he told her it was over.