“Aye, she is.” Jamie looked puzzled. “If Shauna refuses to let Fiona buy anything, then the lass will be angry with her. If Shauna is under my orders, then Fiona will turn her temper on me. ’Tis better for Shauna.”
Mari opened her mouth and then snapped it shut, for once speechless. The last thing she had expected from Jamie was to shoulder the blame deliberately.
She remembered Jillian’s admonishment that Jamie was like King Arthur’s knight, Gawain.
Maybe he was…just a little.
They walked close to the shore and sat on a large boulder semi-warm from the sun even though the air was crisp and cool. Ahead of them, the long, narrow ribbon of Loch Shiel shimmered like sparkling crystals where the sun glinted upon the deep blue water. Mountains on either side rose up in shades of verdant majesty, their peaks still dusted with snow from the recent storm. A kestrel glided lazily overhead, catching updrafts beneath its wings to soar effortlessly while it searched for a fish.
“This is so peaceful,” Mari said.
“Aye,” Jamie answered as he handed her one of the meat pasties. “It reminds me a little of Raasay.”
“The isle where you are from?”
Jamie nodded. “The isle has only one main village, Inverarish, but given the population is less than a thousand, ’tis enough.”
“What do the people do? Raise sheep?”
“Some do, but there is a spring running down the face of a high cliff on the east side that washes the rock, turning it to a white substance from which fine lime is made, and a quarry of good stone as well. On the west side, the fishing is good.” Jamie paused and then smiled. “The fishermen have an unwritten code that all their lines must be the same length for the longest would have access to the best fish and have the others at a disadvantage.”
“Highlanders have a lot of unwritten codes, do they not?” Mari asked.
“Mayhap. ’Tis more a matter of honor that we provide for and protect our clansmen.”
Mari furrowed her brow. “Is that why you are so adamant about protecting me? Because, in a way, I am now related to you?”
Jamie shrugged. “Ye can see it that way I suppose, but I could nae let ye place yerself in danger, lass. ’Tis nae my way.”
Mari studied him. Maybe there was more than a little Gawain in Jamie, after all. “Do you miss Raasay?” she asked softly.
“Aye, sometimes I do. On a clear day, if ye climb to the top of Dùn Caan, ye can see the Isle of Skye to the west and Beinn Bhan to the east with the only sound the distant surf or mayhap the scream of an eagle overhead.”
Mari had never heard him wax nostalgic before. He actually had a softer side than his usual bossiness. “You sound like you love the isle.”
“Highlanders place high value on their lands.” He paused and then, as if he realized he’d suddenly exposed his emotions, he switched the subject, pointing to her pasty. “Ye had best eat while it is still warm.”
Mari blinked, taking a moment to switch her thoughts, and then realized she really was hungry. Biting into the flaky crust, she savored the first bite of saucy meat and some vegetable she could not identify. “Mmm. This is really good,” she said.
“Aye,” Jamie said, “’tis simple country fare of mutton, leek and turnip, but the farm women pride themselves on the spices they add.”
“I suppose those spices are family secrets?” Mari asked as she took another delicious bite.
“That they are.” Jamie grinned and reached over, the pad of his thumb wiping the gravy she’d dribbled on her chin, and resumed eating his own pasty.
His touch was quick and light, but the sense of it lingered on her skin like a whispered caress, and Mari reminded herself again that Jamie was a man of contradictions. Bossy, yes, but he had a softer side, as she had just heard. She glanced at his hands—so strong and callused from wielding swords, yet so gentle with a touch as well. Truly a man of contradictions.
They finished their small meal in comfortable silence, listening to the sound of water lapping along the shoreline and watching the antics of gulls swooping low in hopes of crumbs. Mari wiped her fingers on the handkerchief Jamie produced from his sporran and then leaned back on her hands, tilting her face to the sun as she closed her eyes to bask in its warmth.
Jamie’s lips closed softly on hers and she gasped, allowing him the opportunity to slide his tongue along the separation. She would have fallen backwards except his strong arm encircled her, pulling her closer as he leisurely began to play with her mouth.
Mari felt strangely lightheaded—so different from when Nicholas had done almost the same thing—and she wrapped arms around Jamie’s neck to hold on. Mercy. The man certainly knew how to—
“Ewww! They’re kissing,” one of the twins said, while the other one giggled.
Mari’s eyes flew open. The twins stood not far away, engaging in fits of laughter. She tried to push away from Jamie, but he didn’t completely release her. Instead, he gave Caitlin and Caylin a firm look.
“If ye have nothing better to do with yer time than spy on us, I believe there are stalls to muck out when we get home,” he said.
