Page 26 of Taken By the Savage Highlander

Her knees a bit weak, she settled next to Eleanor, finally letting the wiggling kittens out of her arms. They began playing immediately, and Eleanor giggled as she found a stick to drag across the ground. Tilly placed herself between the two of them, creating a triangle to keep the kittens from getting lost. It seemed that the kittens, Eleanor, and Tilly were completely oblivious to the storm raging in Margo’s mind.

“I thought that Laird MacLeod would be in the village,” she murmured, her voice so quiet she was surprised when Tilly lifted her head.

When Margo met her maid’s eyes, Tilly said, “Perhaps the children were gettin’ in the way. I ken they seem focused now, but a few of them look as if they’re a few seconds away from gettin’ up and wanderin’ the grounds.”

As if on cue, one of the boys got up, dragging the fishing net he was working on with him. Instead of walking away though, he joined Cameron on the bench. Then, he spread the net between their laps and groaned.

“Laird MacLeod, I daenae ken why me knots arenae stayin’ in place,” he said. “Do I have to help? I’m nae any good at this.”

“Show me what ye’re doin’ before ye try to run off, Michael,” Cameron said, his patience disarming.

The boy sighed, but obliged. His fingers clumsily worked, and though Margo couldn’t see what he was doing from where she sat, it seemed that Cameron caught the mistake immediately. He didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he watched patiently, waiting until Michael turned his work toward the Laird.

“Ye’re missin’ a step,” Cameron said, pointing at the knot. “Pull this free.”

“Which step?” the boy asked, though he did as Cameron instructed him.

“The one just before ye finish it,” Cameron replied. He reached out and tied the knot once more, properly this time, with deliberate slowness. “If ye daenae tuck this away, it will allow the nettin’ to slide. Then it will become looser and looser, and fish will be able to escape.”

“I see,” the boy said, studying Cameron’s work.

Then, doing his best to emulate Cameron, Michael moved onto the next knot that needed to be tied. His tongue stuck out in concentration. When he finished, he looked up at the Laird expectantly.

“Good,” Cameron said, turning back to his own stretch of net. “Ye can stay on the bench with me so I can make sure that ye remember how to do it.”

“Aye, me Laird, thank ye!”

Margo knew she was staring, but she could not look away. Her heart was fluttering in a funny way in her chest at the sight of the giant, battle-scarred Highland warrior patiently teaching a little boy how to tie knots. In fact, she could not rationalize this version of him, thinking back to the version of him she first met. Nor could she make sense of the Laird MacLeod that had retreated after kissing her but held her through the night.

It never failed to impress Cameron just how competent his clan was. A storm like the one that had ravaged the coastline the night before would have crippled any other clan, but his people seemed to thrive in the extremes. Still, that did not mean that he was not exhausted from this whole day.

Perhaps that’s why he ran directly into Margo in the narrow corridor. It had been a long day. He wasn’t watching where he was going.

“My apologies,” she squeaked, nearly falling over before Cameron reached out to grab her waist and steady her. “I was not watching where I was going.”

“I wasnae either,” he said, his throat tight.

His hands lingered in place, almost like he could not bring himself to remove them. The feeling of her body heat was intoxicating. He felt like he could get addicted to it if he was not careful.

Reluctantly, he dropped his hold. When her body swayed forward, chasing the contact, he nearly broke. His hands curled into fists at his sides, and he swallowed down a possessive noise.

Forcing himself to take a step back, he said, “It is gettin’ late. Ye should be in yer chambers.”

Margo’s confusion was evident, and she watched him as if she could not understand what she had done wrong. After a beat, she said, “I am aware of the hour. I’m going to fetch milk for the kittens.”

“Ye couldnae send Tilly?” he asked, not quite harshly, though not kindly either. “Ye shouldnae be walkin’ around the castle on yer own until repairs are finished.”

“She is busy with the kittens, and I wanted to stretch my legs one last time before I retired for bed,” Margo said, crossing her arms over her chest. “If you are truly worried about me walking about on my own, you are welcome to accompany me.”

“I daenae have the time. There are matters I must attend to in me study,” he said, though it wasn’t the whole truth. “I’ve been out doin’ repairs all day.”

He knew that if he agreed to join her, he wouldn’t be able to control himself. The beast that lived within him was already attempting to claw its way out of his chest. He had seen the way that men who couldn’t control themselves hurt women. That was not a fate he would damn Margo to.

“I see,” she said quietly.

If he didn’t know any better, he would think that she sounded dejected.

“Daenae linger,” he told her, stepping around her and continuing on his way. He did not slow down as he said, “Find a servant to fetch yer milk. I willnae be there to save ye if the roof caves in.”