bewitching green eyes, and those big…
“You know of whom I speak?” Robert asked.
“Aye. Senga. She was a sweet lass, but she had ambitions. ’Twas just a fling.”
Robert shrugged. “She didn’t say why she wished to see you, but after her departure, someone told me she’d spoken of her new bairn. Might it be yours?”
Derric froze. He’d tried to make sure he didn’t leave a bunch of children behind, but he supposed it was possible.
What was he to do? He’d hoped to go to MacLintock Castle to see his sister and a certain tall, willowy blonde with fire in her eyes. Ever since he’d had a taste of Dyna Grant, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. More than once, he’d woken up in the middle of the night with a hard cock, memories of her sweet lips and fine arse drifting through his mind.
Robert the Bruce clasped his shoulder. “Senga has a wee lassie with bright-colored hair is what I was told. She was headed north into the Highlands. After she left, someone told me she was searching for the father of the bairn, though she never named you. I just wished to mention it because she asked after you. Do as you wish with the information.”
The babe couldn’t be his, or could it? Derric pressed his memory, trying to recall how often he’d been with the lass. They hadn’t been involved for long, and he’d always been careful. Still, the babe could be his. He knew a few times was all it took.
Did he have a daughter?
Perhaps he should take the time to look Senga up. Ask her the question himself. In the meantime…
“King Robert?” he said, turning back toward the burn. The king was dipping his head under a falling stream of water cascading between a few stones. “Would it be a bother if I take a sennight or two to visit my sister? We’re not far from where she’s living.”
“Nay, after Loudon Hill and Lorn, I don’t think we’ll have much to do until we get farther north. Come back though, aye? And give my best to dear Joya.”
He hoped his gaze didn’t give him away. True, he’d love to visit Joya, but he needed to see Dyna, and that need was becoming stronger every day.
Ever since his parents were slain by English soldiers eight years ago, Derric had devoted his life to making the English bastards pay for their crimes against Scotland. In many ways, it was a gratifying quest. And yet, seeing how happy Joya was with Dyna’s cousin, Els, he couldn’t help but wonder if a life with Dyna might be more satisfying than this endless fight for Scotland.
Or perhaps Dyna would wish to fight beside him? He thought back to the battle outside of Thane Castle when Dyna had climbed onto his shoulders and thrust her sword into the air, the crackle of thunder shaking the ground around them. The lass had uncanny talents for sure.
King Robert asked, “Is that smile for Senga?”
Embarrassed to have been caught thinking on a lass, he whipped off a lie easily. “Nay, I was thinking of Joya. I’d like to see that she’s doing well with her husband.”
“I’m sure she’s quite happily married. Mayhap she’ll give you a niece or nephew. Send her my best.”
“I will.” It was an easy promise to make, and Derric nodded without hesitation.
He wished Robert hadn’t brought up Senga, but he doubted the bairn was his daughter. And while he intended to seek her out to ease his mind—he felt the powerful pull of a pair of ice blue eyes. A smirk of pouty lips. Dyna would shoot a challenge at him, the way she always did, and he’d be powerless to ignore it. He’d be grateful for it.
Chapter Two
Two days later, Dyna was in the meadow, practicing her archery skills, when she heard the hoofbeats of a lone horseman. It was nearly dusk so it would be hard for her to identify the visitor, but she wasn’t worried—instead she turned until her bow was perfectly aimed at the horseman.
He looked to be heading toward the gates, but as soon as his gaze settled on her, he turned his horse. She didn’t lower the bow at first, confused because he looked so different than he had several moons ago, when he’d left MacLintock Castle, promising to return for her.
Derric Corbett.
Small butterflies fluttered in her belly at the sight of him, at the realization he’d built up his tall,