“Oh, Da,” she sighed, sounding older than her ten years. “Surely ye should have asked these questions before asking her to marry ye.”
“I will get to ken her better when we arrive at the castle,” he answered, feeling chided.
“She’s a rather pale lass,” Keira commented, eyeing Violet where she stood looking over the chaos with Logan beside her.
“Aye,” Ruaridh agreed.
He remembered, unwillingly, how she had looked beneath him with her blonde tresses spilling out around her, looking almost silver in the moonlight. The lust he had felt that night stirred within him, but he quickly tamped it down.
They were not going to have that sort of marriage. Theirs would be one of convenience to preserve her honor and nothing more.
“Come, lass. Go and play,” he urged. “Let me see to the horses.”
Keira ran off to meet the English lass and pulled her hand along as she pointed at the flowers. She made to dash off, but the English lass held her back.
“You must take care before ye head into the shrubbery, Keira,” she warned. “There might be snakes.”
Ruaridh watched his daughter nod earnestly, surprised she would do so at all.
He tried hard not to notice it, but the gold in the English lass’s hair kept drawing his gaze, and he found himself watching her as she checked the bushes before allowing Keira to come closer. The two picked some flowers and sat on the soft grass, weaving.
“What is yer favorite flower, Violet?” Keira asked.
“I love roses and lilies,” the English lass answered.
“I love heathers,” Keira said. “I love how they paint the hills with their color in spring. And what is yer favorite color?”
“I love blue. Blue like the shade of the sky. What’s yours, Keira?”
“I love pink.” Keira smiled. “Me favorite dress is pink.”
“Yes, pink would suit you rather well.” The English lass nodded.
“What other things do ye like besides flowers?” Keira asked. “Do ye like cake?”
“Yes, I love cake,” the English lass answered. “What is your favorite?”
“I love all types,” Keira gushed. “I just cannae choose one.”
“I feel the same, but I’m partial to lemon cake,” the English lass admitted. “And I absolutely love blueberry jelly and egg custards.”
“Me too,” Keira gasped. “Me da lets me eat all the cake I want.”
The English lass smiled. “What don’t you like to eat?”
“I daenae like vegetables.” Keira wrinkled her nose. “They daenae taste good.”
Ruaridh didn’t care for the information the two were sharing and tried to tune them out, moving further down the riverbank to splash cool water on his face.
“Yes, I feel the same,” the English lass murmured. “I daenae like vegetables as well, but I eat them because my father forces me to.”
“What is yer da like?” Keira asked.
Ruaridh found himself straining to listen despite telling himself he shouldn’t care.
“He is sweet and funny, but he can be controlling,” the English lass answered. “He doesn’t let me eat many sweets and insists I must eat my vegetables.”
Keira gasped. “Even now?”
