The Scot's Quest - Keira Montclair Page 0,41
“You have about a short time before we ride. Make your mind up.” Then the King of the Scots spun on his heel and left.
Derric turned around, watching Dyna’s regal carriage take her across the group of men, heading back into camp from the woods. Every man turned to look at her, and he wished to break every one of their necks for staring at her so.
Mine.
He knew it wasn’t true, but he wished it were. Still, she was such a powerful force of nature, he didn’t know if he was capable of reining her in.
Dyna would balk at that statement. She would say she didn’t need reining in, and he’d be forced to agree with her. The lass didn’t need changing. She was remarkable as she was. She was one of a kind.
“Is she here?” Dyna asked on her approach, her hands on her curvaceous hips.
“Nay,” he said. “She died of fever.”
Dyna’s eyes widened. She reached out to touch him, her fingers wrapping around his forearm, sending flames through him even through his thick tunic. “Derric, I’m so sorry.” She leaned toward him and gave him a quick hug. “I know ’tis not what you wanted.”
“Aye, I’m sorry it happened, but the loss isn’t mine. We were…it wasn’t like that between us. I meant what I said a short time ago. We were not meant to be together. Robert says the lassie isn’t my daughter, that she’s with her father.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
He wasn’t sure. “Does it sound daft if I say I wish to see her for myself? I want to know she’s well cared for.”
“Aye, and ’twill help you decide whether there’s a chance you’re her sire. Most lads and lassies look like one parent or another. If she looks like Senga, you may not be sure, but if she looks like her father and nothing like you, it could ease your worry.”
He paced in a small circle. “Aye, what you say is true. I think I must see for myself. Would you care to travel with me? ’Tis west of here.”
“Nay,” she said, staring at her boot as she kicked a stone about in the dirt. “You must do this on your own. I’ll be here when you return.”
He nodded and leaned in to plant a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll be back shortly.” He left her and headed into the woods to take care of his needs. In truth, he also needed a moment to think on what he’d just learned. On Senga’s death.
When he finished, he walked over to the nearby burn and rinsed his hands, throwing water on his face to wash away the grime of travel.
A sense of guilt rooted in him as he washed. Part of him felt he should be sadder, that he should mourn Senga more deeply. The sadness he felt was for a life lost too soon, not for what might have been.
Having faced up to the possibility of losing Dyna, he knew the only future he wanted was with her. His feelings for her were real, and they were strong. If the fever had taken her, he would have raged at the world. He would have torn it apart.
Mayhap he was finally experiencing that emotion that had proven so elusive to him.
Love.
It was something he’d never felt for anyone besides his sister and his parents, and until recently, he’d been parted from all of them for so long that he’d almost forgotten what it felt like.
He’d spent all this time fighting for his country, but he’d almost forgotten why he was fighting. Part of him wanted to belong to a clan—to be a part of the country he was protecting.
And he wanted that clan to be Clan Grant.
He stood, then folded his hands in front of him and said a brief prayer to God for Senga, expressing his hope that she’d be accepted into heaven, his sorrow that she’d been taken too soon, and his shame for not having loved her like he should.
He cupped water and tossed it over his hair, running his hands through the thick locks to try to straighten what he could, but a sound interrupted him—Dyna’s voice—and the words she said ripped his insides out.
“Take your hands from me.”
He couldn’t see her, but he heard her voice as clearly as if she stood next to him. Racing out of the woods, he didn’t have to look far before he found her in the middle of a few warriors. One