“We should get back,” she said. “Looks like it’s going to chuck it down again.”
The others nodded. They packed up their flowers and began the walk back to the castle. But they’d not gone more than a few paces when the heavens opened.
Between one heartbeat and the next, the rain was lashing down in sheets, turning the well-trodden path into a muddy stream and soaking their clothes in moments. But instead of dampening their spirits further, it brought a spark of life back into Aislinn’s eyes. She laughed and twirled about in the downpour like a child as they entered the castle courtyard.
“Come on, Anna!”
Anna found herself tugged into a wild reel as Aislinn clasped her hands, spinning them around in dizzying circles under the falling sky and she found herself laughing uproariously as she was soaked through to the skin, splashing in puddles like an errant toddler.
“Get on with the both of ye!” Hildie called. “Ye’ll catch yer deaths of cold!” But despite her words, there was a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she hurried to the door, seeking the sanctuary of the keep.
Dancing like an utter idiot in the rain, Anna felt strangely content. Or, almost content. Something was missing and she knew exactly what it was. Tall, broad-shouldered, hair the color of wet sand, and knew she couldn’t put it off any longer.
She needed to speak to Emeric.
EMERIC HOISTED THEsack onto his shoulder, grunting with effort, and carried it over to the wagon. Heheaved it onto the wagon bed atop the others and put his hands on his hips, trying to catch his breath.
“That’s the last one,” Angus said. “And just in time, by the looks of that sky. There’s rain on the way.”
Emeric nodded, too winded to speak. He and Angus had been working since first light in the granary, measuring grain, hoisting sacks, tallying the deliveries coming in from outlying crofts, trying to find some way to make the numbers work and put enough aside for the coming winter.
But no matter what they did, they kept reaching the same conclusion. Autumn would soon be here, winter hot on its heels, and they would not have enough grain to last through it.
Damn the MacDonalds and damn the circumstances that put his family in this position! Yet, despite his annoyance, he had to admit that the physical work, side by side with his old friend, had helped clear his head, dispel the confusion and unease that had sat like curdled milk in his gut.
He’d left the castle before first light—well before breakfast—grateful that he’d not bumped into anyone on his way down to the village. The walk had given him some much-needed solitude, time alone with just the wind and the heather for company. He’d forgotten just how much he’d missed it.
“Well, that’s a pensive look if ever I saw one,” Angus observed. His ruddy face was even redder than usual, his breathing heavy from their labors. But as always, there was a smile on his face as he watched Emeric. No matter whathappened, Angus always seemed to be able to see the bright side of things. Just like Anna.
The thought of the dark-haired beauty sent his mood crashing again. He’d left the keep early to avoid her, and he was a little ashamed of that. Their unfortunate encounter in the stables last night ate at him. He’d behaved like a fool, but try as he might, he could not banish the dark sensation that flooded his stomach whenever he thought of her dancing with Hector.
Emeric scrubbed a hand over his face, weary to his bones. “Let’s get this up to the castle before the rain hits.”
They set out, Angus clucking to the big draft horse harnessed to the cart. The cart lurched into motion and the two men walked either side of the horse as they wove their steady way up towards the castle. They’d not gone more than a hundred paces though, before their luck gave out.
A peal of thunder rolled across the sky and the heavens opened, a thick blanket of rain hissing down in a torrent and turning the landscape into an indistinct smudge of gray.
Angus laughed. “Ha! That will teach us to tarry! By God, I reckon yer uncle owes us a tankard or two of ale after this!”
“Two? Make that five at the very least!”
They wound their way slowly along the track towards the keep, finally pushing through the gates and into the rain-slicked courtyard of Dun Achmore.
Laughter echoed from the far side, catching Emeric’s attention. He looked over to see Aislinn and Anna, drenched from the sudden downpour, dancing and laughinglike two wild nymphs in the rain. What on earth were they doing? Had they gone mad?
“Now there’s a sight for sore eyes,” Angus said, gently stroking the horse’s nose. “Never seen Aislinn so giddy. And after what happened to yer da and all that business with Duncan MacDonald, well, it’s good to see her truly laugh.”
Emeric agreed. There had been some dark times in Clan Mackintosh over the last few years, and unlike him, his sister had not been able to run from them. She’d had to stay here and weather that storm. Like Angus said, it was good to see her laugh.
His eyes swung to Anna. Her dark hair cascaded like shimmering onyx as the rain lashed against her and she spun and danced, refusing to be cowed by it. Her laughter rang out, a melody more beautiful to Emeric’s ears than any bard’s song.
“Emeric?” Angus’ voice crackled through his reverie. “Ye are staring like an idiot.”
Aye, he was. How could he not? By the Saints, she was beautiful.
Aislinn caught sight of them and waved. Anna turned too. Her gaze met his across the courtyard and her smile faltered. She said something to Aislinn and then walked over, coming to a halt in front of him. She was soaked to the skin, her clothes clinging and her cheeks flushed with exertion.
“Hello, Emeric.”
