Quest of the Highlander (Crowns & Kilts #5) - Cynthia Wright Page 0,101

that nearly filled this snug room. She looked forward to this time to plan a small tapestry for her baby. Nora had even made the cartoon herself, knowing that she must practice the skill of sketching her own patterns if she truly aspired to be a master weaver.

Yet the effort had made her miss Lennox more than ever. There were no words to describe the ecstasy of a true artistic collaboration like theirs. Nora kept his original cartoon close by her loom. Each time she unfurled it and remembered when Lennox had first shown it to her at Duart Castle, she felt anew that sense of bliss. Completion.

And the pain of loss.

She prayed Lennox was finding happiness with the Duke of Hastings. It wasn’t hard to imagine him, splendid and strong, in the garb of an English nobleman, perhaps riding through the woods with a group of new friends. She hoped he felt the sense of belonging that he’d been searching for all his life.

Nora supposed she would always ache for him, but each day she felt stronger, more certain that she would find fulfillment for herself and her baby.

Her loom always brought her joy. Now she wondered which shades of tan and golden thread would be best for the rather friendly-looking lion in this tapestry. Nora was poring over her collection of wool, silk, and metallic threads when a knock sounded dimly at the entrance. It continued for a bit before she remembered that Joan Farthing had gone to care for her ailing aunt and wouldn’t return until tomorrow, at the earliest.

As Nora rose, the baby kicked. Because of the style of her gown, she could still hide her condition from others, but very soon that wouldn’t be possible. Gently, she patted her belly and murmured affectionately. “Don’t worry, little one, I have not forgotten you.”

Joan’s big gray cat, Samuel, was napping on a stool near the hearth, seemingly unbothered by the knocking. It came to Nora that the person at the door might well be Joan, returning for something she had forgotten.

“I’m coming,” called Nora. With one motion, she lifted the bar from the door and pulled up on the latch. A tall male figure filled the portal, cast into shadow by the light behind him.

“Ah,” said the caller in a deep, chillingly familiar voice. “What a relief to find you at home, Nora.”

Quickly, he came forward into the small parlor and reached back to close the door. As Nora focused on the man’s face, her heart froze.

“I must be seeing things,” she said. “You… You are—”

“Dead? Not a bit. Such a nasty rumor,” Sir Raymond Slater replied, smiling. “But you look frightened, pet. There’s absolutely no need. Did you really imagine a storm at sea could kill a man like me?”

Nora took a deep breath, trying not to let anything he said distract her. “How did you know I was here?” Heart pounding, she reminded herself that he could not possibly know about the baby. “Why have you come?”

As Slater swept a hand around the small, neat parlor, Samuel narrowed his eyes and rushed from the room. “Won’t you invite me to sit down?” Slater took a chair. “That’s better. Might I trouble you for some refreshment? Ale will do if you cannot offer me wine.”

She wanted to refuse but realized that could be dangerous. Instead, she brought him a cup of ale and took a seat near the cabinet where her coin-filled tapestry purse was hidden. “Will you now answer my questions?”

“May I say, first, that you are even lovelier today than when we last were together in Scotland?” He inclined his head slightly to indicate what he meant by together. “You have a certain glow, pet.”

Nora felt sick. He knows! She told herself that he must not see her panic. “How kind of you to say so.” She looked at him, waiting.

“I have spoken to your friend, Lady Fairhaven,” he said. “She has confided all your secrets. For your own good, of course.”

Of course. Forcing a smile, Nora murmured, “That does sound like Cicely.”

As Slater continued to speak, he sounded almost sincere. “I have taken some time to think about this situation, and now that I am here, seeing you, my feelings are…” He swallowed. “Quite tender. Do you remember how it was between us that night? How sweet you were, giving yourself to me?”

She wanted to protest that she did not remember any such thing, but his manner was disconcerting. There was so much