“What?” Seona turned to find Keegan emerging from the small doorway leading from the stairwell.
“I have to go see what trouble Dirk is getting into.” Isobel strode toward the doorway as Keegan approached Seona, one hand behind his back. Was he hiding something?
“What are you about?” she asked, eying him suspiciously.
He grinned and brought his hand from behind his back. In it, he held a small bundle of bluebells.
She drew in a sharp breath and glanced up into his eyes, his expression filled with happiness.
“These bluebells match your eyes so perfectly, I had to bring them to you.” He held the flowers out to her.
“I thank you,” she said just above a whisper and accepted them. The two dozen or so stems were bound together by a strip of plaid material. Had he ripped this from his own clothing? She pressed her nose into the bluebells and sniffed, catching a faint sweet fragrance. “Where did you find these?”
“By the loch shore.” He nodded toward the south.
No one had ever given her flowers before. Emotion grabbed at her throat but she pushed it back. She refused to let Keegan see any tears from her in such a public place. “You are too kind.”
“I think not. You deserve far more, Lady Seona.” He lowered his voice. “I wish I could give you the world.”
“I don’t want the world. This is all I want.” Glancing up into his eyes, she sniffed the flowers again.Him. He was what she wanted.
His gaze penetrated her for a long moment, then abruptly he glanced around them, toward the castle and the garden below.
Would he have kissed her if they’d had more privacy?
He motioned toward the bench. “Would you like to sit?”
“Aye.”
He dropped down beside her on the stone slab and turned to her. “I hope you’re not angry with me because of last night,” he said, just above a whisper.
“Nay. Why would I be?” It had been the best experience of her life so far.
“Well… I took liberties, shall we say.” His brow furrowed. “I probably shouldn’t have touched you the way I did, but—”
“Surely, you ken ’twas what I wished as well,” she whispered.
He observed her, his eyes darkening, then he blew out a sharp breath—in relief or growing desire, she was not certain.
“But I worry now that you think me a wanton or a harlot,” she confessed, her face feeling scalded again.
He frowned. “Nay. Never, m’lady.”
“Master Keegan?” the male voice came from the doorway that led to the terrace. A second later Hugh MacMillan appeared.
“Aye, what is it?” Keegan asked.
The guard’s face appeared flushed. He stared at his feet for a moment. “Lady Patience sent me.”
Keegan’s annoyed gaze darted to Seona, then back to MacMillan. “And what is her message?”
“She wishes to see Lady Seona.”
How had her aunt seen them? Seona’s stomach ached and frustration near overwhelmed her. Why could she not have any time alone with Keegan without someone cutting it short?
“Where is she?” Seona asked.
“I took her upstairs. She was tired.”
