He had called for her at a respectable hour, accepted an invitation to break his fast with the family, then listened with absolutely no expression on his face as Jamie had informed her that he’d set aside a bit of gold for her to have for her very own. She’d looked at Oliver then, had a very serious smile as her reward, then hoped Jamie would mistake her rubbing her eyesto stop the burning for something spicy she’d encountered in his kitchens.
Truly the Future was a wondrous place.
Jamie had then suggested that perhaps the children might like to come along to the shore as chaperons, which she’d found both charming and a bit embarrassing. Oliver had taken it with his usual good grace and a polite bow made to her current laird, piled everyone in Jamie’s marvelous conveyance, then made certain she was comfortable before he’d set them off on their journey to the sea.
A journey which had apparently reached its conclusion whilst she’d been preoccupied with fretting over things that didn’t matter and missing several things that did. She looked at the beautiful greenish-blue water in front of her, then looked at Oliver. He was watching her with a grave smile.
“Like it?” he asked.
She could only nod. Words were beyond her. He smiled again, then looked at the children freeing themselves from their restraints behind them.
“Let’s bring a blanket and the hamper,” he suggested, “then you sprogs go play. Stay out of the water and don’t get lost.”
“I’m not a baby,” Patricia protested.
Oliver only smiled. “Lads, look after your sister. There’s a wee shop on the hill for snacks later if you get hungry. I’ll buy.”
That seemed to satisfy the bairns well enough. They abandoned the automobile without delay and ran toward the pale-hued shore. Mairead started to unclasp her safety belt only to have Oliver put his hand on her arm. He did it for her, then looked at her.
“Wait for me?”
She nodded, then watched him get out and walk around the car to fetch her. She accepted a hand out, then waited a bit longerwhilst he fetched things out of the back of the beast. She eyed the blanket he had tucked under one arm, then frowned at him.
“You aren’t going to putthaton the ground, are you?”
“What do you think?” he asked with a smile.
She wrapped her arms around herself, not because she was cold but because she was too old to be thinking the thoughts that were rattling around in her empty head. Oliver set his burdens down, then looked at her with a wince.
“What can I do?”
She had to take a deep breath. “This will sound mad, but I find that all I want to do is be in your arms.” She met his gaze. “Foolish, isn’t it?”
“Well,” he said slowly, “I might not be the right one to ask about that.”
She almost smiled. “You wouldn’t?”
He shook his head, then held open his arms and lifted an eyebrow. She did smile then and walked into his embrace. She closed her eyes and felt a sigh come from someplace inside herself that she hadn’t known existed. Foolish or not, she felt as if she’d somehow come home.
She wondered if Oliver might grow bored by standing there and doing nothing but holding her, but he didn’t move and she couldn’t bring herself to ask him if he wanted to. The feel of his hand occasionally skimming over her hair was soothing, the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear was reassuring, and knowing she was actually safe was more comforting than she would have suspected it might be.
“I suppose we must discuss things,” she said finally.
“We likely should,” he agreed, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. “In a minute.”
She smiled in spite of herself and remained exactly where she was, wishing she might remain there forever. It was difficult to believe that not a pair of days earlier she had been in a fardifferent time, alone save for her brother’s young children and an uncle of questionable sanity. Well, and Giles Cameron for a brother in affection if nothing else.
But now she had relatives who were kind, apparently a bit of gold to her name, and a man dressed in his favorite color who seemingly thought nothing of giving her comfort when she could scarce bring herself to ask for it.
She patted him on the back, because she knew there were things she needed to face sooner rather than later, then pulled away and looked at him with a smile.
“Do you own clothing in any other color?”
He shook his head. “Emily says black makes my hair look very pretty, so I stick with it.”
“Well, she would know,” Mairead agreed. “She’s very fashionable herself—”
She stopped speaking abruptly as she found herself assaulted by memories she hadn’t anticipated. She felt for Oliver’s hands and found them there in front of her, warm and secure and attached to a man who didn’t complain about how hard she was clutching him. She took a deep breath and looked up at him.
