Chapter Four
“We will see where thingslead, lass.”
Two things occurred to Colmac while murmuring in Rona’s ear. His words sounded misleading, and his proximity was far too close. His breath fanned her delicate neck, and he could smell her sweet scent. Feel the heat of her body. Her green, woolen dress might be simple, but she looked stunning. Tempting. Like in her youth, the firelight ignited both her silky hair and thickly lashed eyes.
When he’d imagined Rona walking into the MacLauchlin great hall once again, she had stepped into his brother’s arms. Now no embrace awaited her. It saddened him to know his brother was lost to her. That the two of them shared this reunion under such circumstances.
Yet he was conflicted.
Though sad for Rona and his brother, he felt more alive than he had in a very long time. How many times had he glanced at the door, hoping she would walk through it? How often had he envisioned her sitting beside him in front of this very hearth catching up on old times? Laughing like they once did?
Mayhap even rediscovering the love lost to them?
Rona stilled, and her startled eyes met his as she responded to what he had murmured in her ear. “Where things lead?”
Did he imagine a flicker of hope in her gaze? A longing to match his?
“After we eat if ye like.” Though loathe to step away from her, he pulled out her chair at the head table then gestured at a door that led to a small hallway. “I will take ye to visit Bróccín’s grave so ye can pay yer respects and then we shall see if he left something in the hideaway.”
“Of course that is what ye meant,” she murmured while she sat. “Aye, I would like that verra much.”
He was about to pull out a chair for Brighid as well, but Aaron beat him to it. So Colmac sat at the head of the table with Rona to his right and set to eating. They enjoyed oatcakes for now, but the evening’s fare would be more substantial. Roasted boar, vegetable stew, biscuit bread, and haggis. Not only in honor of the holiday but because of Rona's arrival. As it were, she should have married his kin, strengthening the alliance between their clans.
While the MacLomains would stand by their side regardless, Rona and Bróccín’s nuptials would have benefitted the MacLauchlins. She came with a substantial dowry, and the good Lord knew they could use it.
“Rona, lass, ‘tis bloody good to see ye!”
“Stuart!” Rona stood and embraced his first-in-command and closest friend when he joined them. “I thought ye must be off fighting still!”
“Nay, more and more return every day.” Stuart assisted Rona in sitting again then sat across from her, admiring her as readily as every other lad in the hall. “Ye are as bonnie as ever, lass. Truly.” He nodded, solemn. “I am sorry for the loss of yer betrothed. He was a good man.”
“Aye,” she agreed. “Thank ye.”
Done with formalities and the sort who preferred to leave the past in the past, Stuart tied back his blonde locks and started on his oatcakes. “’Twas quite the group that set upon ye out in the woodland, Rona. Are ye well?”
“I am.” She nibbled on her food. “Ye were there then?”
