He wanted her forgiveness. It was what she needed to give so that she could live the rest of her days without the weight of her hatred. She deserved that after all she had lost.
He reached the glen at the same time as the sun. The women had retired from their outdoor work, leaving the vast sunlit glade vacant.
He walked to the back of the house and the butchering block to deposit his kill and spill the blood.
He saw her a little while later when he entered the Main Hall. Was that the soothing balm of relief in her eyes? A soft smile relaxing her stiff mouth?
He would not move too quickly—the way he had last night. She was not a conquest. She was his humility. He had to work for her acceptance, and ultimately, her forgiveness.
Aye, he could blame her father, the Covenanters, or the king, for taking his arm. But what would that accomplish? He had to keep moving forward in his life, letting go of blame and hatred. It was time. He wanted her to let go, as well.
“How did hunting go?” she asked him.
He smiled. “I killed two hares and three quail without my pistol. After the second, my strength faltered, but I pulled myself together and shot three more times.”
“That is good news, Mr. Cameron,” she said with a smile that put him in a grateful mood.
Helen looked up from chopping carrots. “It means ye have good strength of will, my lord.”
He nodded but his eyes didn’t leave Elspeth. “I’ll go prepare the meat,” he said, then left the house without waiting for her reply. He didn’t expect one, really. He’d been refusing her help preparing his meals. Why should she expect him to accept this time?
He smiled as images of her visibly happy to see him conquered every thought. She thoroughly enchanted him. Why else would he remain with her after his arm was finally beginning to heal? He shook his head at himself and chuckled on the way to his task. He knew from the beginning that he didn’t want to let her go this time. His arm had nothing to do with it.
He heard a sound and turned to see her coming up behind him. How did she learn to use such stealth? She carried no weapon this time, nor were her hands raised to strike him. Still, her silence made him uneasy. She could attack him and we wouldn’t know it until…
“Mr. Cameon, a pity that seeing me makes yer laughter turn to dread.”
“Ye’re quiet, lass.”
“That doesna necessarily mean I have come to kill ye,” she countered, and caught up with him.
He raised an eyebrow. “Och, has yer desire to kill me ended?”
“My desire has nothing to do with my duty. As a Highlander, surely ye understand that.”
He nodded then shrugged as they walked together. “And yet here I am, askin’ ye to give up yer duty.”
“If ’twas yer family who died and I asked ye to give up yer duty, would ye?”
“If my duty was revenge and death, I would give it up fer ye, Miss Woodburn.”
They walked in silence until they reached the butchering table.
“What were ye finding so humorous before ye saw me?”
He wasn’t about to tell her his foolish meanderings about lying to himself and wanting to be close to her from the moment he saw her again, tangles and all. He couldn’t even climb a mountain without finding a way to see her.
“Ye look verra bonnie in yer snood.”
When her warm gaze went a wee bit dull and she lifted her hand to her red headband, Logan stopped her. “Ye are bonnie with or withoot it, as well as with or withoot yer tangled hair. But I admit,” he added with a tilt of his lips, “that I am glad ye took interest in yerself and cut off the unwanted to make way fer the shiny and new.”
She smiled at him. Again. Like a spell, the more she smiled at him, the more he wanted.
“How is it that every word ye speak is a word I have wanted to hear from someone almost my entire life? Someone, but no’ ye.”
“We dinna get to choose where our desires will be satisfied, lass.”
She looked at him and swallowed hard enough to make a sound. Then, she appeared to pull herself together. “How may I help?”
