“Who is who, Logan?” Jamie asked him, looking up at Logan’s outburst.
Logan sank a little in his seat. “No one.” He waved his hand at Jamie and then returned his attention to Miss Woodburn. She was trying to hide her smile, but it shone like the finger of God tracing her mouth.
“Who?” he mouthed, smiling across from her.
Her face turned scarlet in an instant. She shook her head and leaned in again. “There is no one, I was teasing.”
“I thought ye would have said Ewen.”
She scoffed in her seat.
“Jamie fer certain then,” he muttered, bending toward her.
She tossed back her head a little and laughed. He reclined back in his chair again and let his smile shine on her. She could be speaking of Steafan, but Steafan rarely showed her kindness once he’d heard she wanted to kill Logan.
Nae, Logan thought, reveling in the unforbidden sight of her, knowing this time that she enjoyed looking at him too.
Six years ago, he would have been ready to pledge his devotion to her, and for the last six years, he kept his heart free of any feminine attachments. What mere human lass could compete with the faerie, the angel, the ghost that lived in his dreams and his heart?
Aye, he had blamed her father for his arm, but Logan had believed she was a ghost because of him.
But she had not died that fateful night. And now, he was growing accustomed to seeing her bonnie face every day.
He became aware of his cousins’ silence and blinked away from Miss Woodburn to look at them. They were staring at him, slack jawed.
“Hmm?” he wondered out loud.
“What is the matter with ye?” Jamie voiced.
“What are ye talkin’ aboot?” Logan asked, a wee bit insulted.
“Ye look all…” Jamie scrunched up his face, trying to find the right words.
“Quiet doun, whelp,” Ewen warned with the point of his elbow into Jamie’s ribs and a glance around the table at Helen.
Logan wasn’t surprised that his cousins noticed the change in him. They all knew one another well enough to note the slightest nuance of change in manner or expression. Would they think of his fondness for Miss Woodburn as betrayal? Why would they? He and Miss Woodburn were the ones who had suffered, not them.
Still, he was relieved Ewen had stopped Jamie since Miss Woodburn looked mortified.
Soon enough, conversations picked up once again, leaving Logan and Miss Woodburn to eat or speak to each other.
“Dinna mind the lads,” he told her. “Especially Jamie.”
“I dinna mind him at all. I think he is verra sweet.”
Logan wasn’t oblivious to his cousin’s charms. Second to Ealar Cameron, most of the lasses at Tor and in the surrounding villages fancied Jamie. Did Miss Woodburn fancy him as well?
He made a sound that resembled a bear more than a man. He hated himself for being jealous. It was a pitiful trait. He’d never been jealous before, but he knew what it looked like from his many male and female cousins in the castle. He didn’t like it, and he didn’t like how it made him feel. He also didn’t like how he felt as if he was losing his good sense. Wasn’t he just smiling like a fool at the thought of her thinking him handsome? Now he was worried about her fancying Jamie? He shook his head at himself and then muttered under his breath, things about bears and going dull-witted before he realized that both his cousins were staring at him again.
He muffled his desire to laugh and managed to keep a stoic expression until his gaze returned to her and she smiled.
With her wide, bonnie eyes and blushed cheeks, she appeared as innocent as an angel, an angel that tore his heart to shreds.
Despite her sharpest claws, he presented himself to her anew every day, letting her do her best to hate him. Hopefully, she would tire of it sooner or later.
Chapter Thirteen
Elspeth rested herhead on her pillow and closed her eyes. She was growing tired of hating Mr. Cameron. It made her want to weep. She’d had plenty of opportunities to kill him. Yet he still lived and breathed…and mesmerized. Why couldn’t she do it? Why had she lain with him to keep him warm?
