“Ye had yer grandfather tae make ye a man,” she said. “He taught ye a trade and made ye who ye are. But me… I never had a mother tae teach me tae be a lady. I only had a father and older brothers and they taught me the things they knew. They are the ones who taught me tae fight and I learned tae fight better than they do. But as I got older, I realized that lads dunna like a lass who fights.”
Cam’s eyes finally had warmth in them as he squeezed her fingers. “Some lads do.”
Isadora laughed softly. “Not most of them.” She hadn’t meant to speak on the lad she’d been fond of, once, but she didn’t see any harm in it. “His name was Mitchel dun Machair. He was a distant cousin tae the Keith. Mitchel was big and dark, and he had a way of smiling that set a lass’ heart tae fluttering.”
“What?” Cam said in mock outrage. “I thought ye said ye’d been true tae me?”
“It was a very long time ago.”
His eyes narrowed. “It had better be. Well? Who is this man who caught yer eye?”
Isadora laughed softly. “He’s but a distant memory, I promise,” she said. “He dinna like a woman who fights. He wanted a lass tae tend his home and bear his children. I’ve no skills in a home, and bairns frighten me, so Mitchel married a pretty lass from another clan.”
Beside her, Cam shifted slightly so that he was closer to her. “Did he tell ye that he dinna want a lass who could fight?”
Isadora looked at him, feeling the heat radiating from his body. It reminded her of the last time they were alone, when he’d made love to her in his tiny cottage. She found herself wishing they could do the same thing tonight. Being this close to the man made her feel hot all over.
“He told me that Pearl would make a better wife because she dinna fight like a man,” she said. Then she lifted her eyebrows in an ironic gesture. “Pearl was her name, and she was white and round just like a pearl. I remember wishing I could be just like her, but now I realize that was just foolish. I could have never been happy being a Pearl for the rest of my life.”
Cam smiled faintly. “Now Mitchel is saddled with a round, white Pearl,” he said. “I would wager that she is as bland as her name. If Mitchel had been smart, he would have taken a chance on a redhead who demands bird eggs. But I’m grateful he dinna.”
The flattery brought a flush to Isadora’s cheeks. “Ye prefer a woman who bullies ye for bird eggs?”
That brought a chuckle from Cam. “I would take a woman who bullies me every time,” he said. Then his smile faded. “I like a strong and courageous woman, never afraid tae speak her mind.”
Isadora was genuinely touched. “Ye’re not afraid tae marry her?”
“Ye dunna see me running, do ye?”
She squeezed his fingers, wishing she could do so much more. “Cam… I want tae say something tae ye, so forgive me if it doesna come out as it should,” she said, stumbling over her words. “For what happened tae yer grandfather and yer village… I am very sorry. But I’m not sorry that I found ye at the Ludus Caledonia. If it sounds disrespectful, I dunna mean it that way. Isimply mean that… I thought I’d lost ye when Netherton burned, but when I found ye at The Cal, it was as if my life had begun anew. I feel strongly that it was fate that brought us together again. We’re not meant tae be apart, ye and I.”
His eyes had a weary glimmer to them. “Nay, we’re not,” he whispered. “Whatever happens, Isadora…thu fhèin.Remember that.”
She wasn’t quite sure what he meant, but she didn’t ask. In truth, it didn’t really matter to her. He loved her and that was all that mattered.
Only you.
Impulsively, she kissed him, her tender lips against his warm mouth. It was soft and delicious, but it was a stolen kiss. Tonight, there could be nothing more and they both knew it. Quickly, Isadora pulled away and bolted to her feet. She was halfway across the common room and to the stairs before she turned to look at him, blowing him another kiss before dashing up the steps to her rented chamber.
That night, she slept peaceful dreams of the blond smithy, now warrior, who had captured her heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Auchnacree
After they leftBlairgowrie before sunrise the next morning under cloudy skies, the village of Auchnacree came into view just before sunset.
Cam saw it, a scattering of stone and sod cottages amidst gently rolling hills. In the late, gray afternoon, the smoke from the cooking fires was hanging heavily in the air. The earth around them was a rich, dark brown in color, muddy from the recent rains, with patches of green grass on occasion.
The village was concentrated on the hills. It was a fairly substantial settlement with a main road that went through town and then smaller cottages that spread up into the hills. The main road had mainly residences, as people began to turn out to greet their returning chieftain, but there were also at least three merchant stalls that Cam could see—a tanner and a blacksmith, with his bellows going at full blast, and then a man who propped open the shutters on the front of his stall to display what looked like fabric and other trinkets.
Cam’s thoughts began to darken as they entered the village proper. When he was a child, the Keith lands were mysterious and dark, so to be in the village of Auchnacree was something of an odd experience for him. He looked at the curious facesof those around him, expecting to see the wicked and only seeing what looked like normal people, much like the people of Netherton. There wasn’t anything mysterious about them as far as he could see.
But he knew they were killers.
Niall brought the horses to a halt in front of the largest building in the village. It was a great stone hall with a sharply pitched roof and slender windows that were placed high up by the roofline. There was one door in the front, a massive oak-and-iron panel set within an arched doorway.
Niall dismounted, followed by his sons and Isadora, and finally Cam. He was so busy studying the building that he hadn’t even noticed everyone was off the horses. He further hadn’t noticed that nearly everyone in the village had turned out to greet them. He was only aware when a small girl ran up to him, handing him a sprig of bog myrtle with a cluster of catkins on the end. Startled by the child tugging at him, he took the greenery as she ran back into the crowd.
