a place existed at Ravenscraig Castle until this moment.
The day was fully upon them now, leaving the sky a clear blue. The air was sweet, and yet spiced with the tang of the sea beyond the castle walls. Mariam walked beside him, her cheeks rosy from their morning endeavors.
“The bees seem very busy this morning,” Mariam said, breaking the silence that had settled between them. She watched the industrious insects as they flitted from clover to flower and back again.
“So many things happen all around us, if we only take the time to stop and notice,” Cameron said.
“It’s nice to have that time now.”
Mariam flashed him a smile that went straight to his gut. He wished she wouldn’t smile like that because it made her all the more appealing. As a guardian, it was Cameron’s responsibility to take care of Mariam’s day-to-day needs, to educate her, provide her with servants, and care for her financial assets had she had any, and if of marriageable age, it was his duty to see marriage arrangements were made that were as beneficial to her as possible.
Nowhere in his responsibilities was he ever to think of her as his own. Granted, sometimes, wards and guardians did marry if the age gap was not too great an obstacle. But Cameron had other responsibilities—to his people and to his king. It was not wise for him to want anything more from this arrangement. Protecting Mariam from harm was his first priority, then came king and country, not his own selfish desires.
Cameron rolled his neck to release the sudden tension in his muscles as the two of them strayed from the gravel path onto the grass, their every step releasing the grass’s fresh perfume. He tried to dispel the image of Mariam as she had looked this morning as they’d ridden across the fields. Her cheeks had been flushed with pleasure and her hair had fluttered about her face. Only in his mind her pleasure was sexual and the heat rising from her throat was brought there by his touch. It was his hands that had loosened her hair, and his mouth that had brought color to her lips.
By the heavens! He frowned down at the ground, trying to find a way to rationalize his feelings for her. The answer was simple. His constant warring and service to the king had not left him much time for female companionship over the last several years, but even so he would never take advantage of a woman under his protection.
Cameron shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He couldn’t afford this kind of distraction much longer. Alexander was right. It was best to marry the girl off and place her in someone else’s care no matter his own feelings for her. And there was no better time than the present to begin that discussion because the men he and Alexander had discussed had already been invited to the castle to vie for Mariam’s hand. They were already on their way. There was nothing he could do now to stop what he himself had started.
With his fingers, Cameron raked his hair back from his face. “Mariam, we will be receiving two visitors this afternoon.”
“More men from your sailing ships?” she asked with hesitation.
“Nay, two gentlemen whom I’d like you to consider as potential husbands.”
“Husbands?” she choked.
“Aye. Two men of good reputation who are in need of a bride. Peter Mason is the heir to his father’s estate in North Berwick, and Laird David Sibbald of Balgonie Castle in Fife has two young children from a previous marriage.”
“Why?” Panic filled her eyes. “You promised not to send me away.”
“The situation has changed,” he ground out. “I must focus my energies on the king and his enemies, and I cannot do that if I am to protect you as well.” He turned his gaze from hers but he could hear her breathing, the slight draw and exhalation—light and measured—as though she were consciously regulating not only her breath, but also her emotions.
“I cannot, I will not marry. Not now, not ever.” The words were part plea, part sob. And just as they left her lips, a thin wind began to whine around their feet. It gathered force until it suddenly swirled about them, sending tree leaves and delicate blossoms to dance in the air. It was an eerie, chill wind that brought no new air with it.
Cameron’s gaze flew to Mariam’s face. Her expression was haunted. At the look, an icy shiver crept