Page 63 of The Eagle

When she looked at him, her eyes were clear and penetrating, but he could not read her expression because it was guarded. How terrible that he caused her to change in that way.

She admitted to still having feelings for him. There was hope. He would not give up. It could be that he would remain much longer, but no matter what it took, Stuart was determined to gain Cait’s full love back.

A horse and rider came upon him and stopped. He immediately recognized Torac, Cait’s brother. The warrior dismounted and walked closer. “I was not aware ye had returned,” the man said.

“I returned only yesterday,” Stuart replied. “Where are ye headed?”

Torac shrugged. “Returning from the village. I went to visit my mother.”

The man studied Stuart for a moment. “Are ye and my sister to marry while ye are here?”

“If I can convince her. She broke off our betrothal.”

Torac’s eyebrows rose. “I was not aware.”

“Aye, my fault for staying away so long.” Stuart wondered about Torac’s opinion of their marriage. “Have ye spoken to her lately?”

Torac shrugged. “Cait and I are not close. Despite her living at the keep, she and I do not spend much time together. It has been less than a year since I met her and my half brother. It is not immediate that one feels a familiar connection.”

“I plan to convince her to marry me and regain her trust again. I love Cait. My plan is that she along with her brother and her mother will be leaving to live in the northwest.”

Torac’s lips curved. “It will be good for her. I am glad.”

As Cait’s half brother rode away, Stuart felt stronger about his plans to win Cait back.

He stood and looked up to the cloudy sky realizing he needed to head back to the keep before the rain fell. By the darkness of the clouds, a storm was about to hit.

The rain began falling hard as he started the trek back to the keep. He’d not realized how far he’d walked and now regretted not bringing his horse. Especially when it became dark, the rain falling so hard he could barely see.

Finally, he gave up and sought shelter by a grouping of trees that safeguarded him from the downpour. It was a long while before he gave up waiting it out and decided to continue his trek back to the keep. The rain was not relenting, and he could no longer control his shivering from the cold.

Each step was a struggle as he fought the pouring rain and lashing wind that pushed him backward. His foot slipped on the mud, and he tumbled down the side of a small hill, cursing the entire way.

When he came to a stop, flat on his back, he stared up at the darkened sky. The rain continued, ridiculously hard, the drops pelting him like small stones.

By the time he walked out of the forest, he could barely keep upright. It took monumental effort to put one foot in front of the other. He felt foolish that his teeth chattered, and in a way, he felt like a stupid lad for not keeping better track of time, distance, and the weather.

Just as he walked into the house, Cait was crossing from the parlor to the stairs. She stopped and stared at him, taking him in head to toe. “What happened to ye?”

“It’s raining,” he replied unable to keep the annoyance from his tone. The last person he wished to run into at the moment was the one who’d caused him to walk so far in the first place.

“Go to the kitchen door, Greer will instruct them to pour a hot bath for ye.”

She made shooing motions with both hands forcing him to walk back outside and to the kitchen doorway. He burst through the door and into the kitchen. “I-I…n-need a b-bath,” he said between chattering teeth.

Greer’s wide eyes did the same as Cait, running from his face to the trail of mud he’d created from the doorway. “Of course, dear.” She ushered him closer to the hearth, the heat from the fire permeating his freezing wet clothing.

Quickly instructing the servants to fetch water, and a pair of lads to drag the wooden tub to the adjoining room, she then began helping Stuart undress, peeling layer after layer of sopping wet clothing from his shivering form.

A few moments later, he sunk into the warm water and had hot cider warming his belly. The smell of a delicious meal—he hoped to soon be enjoying—was coming from the other room.

He heard Cait speaking in the other room. He didn’t respond or pay attention, as it was doubtful she deemed him worthy of her time.

Instead, he stepped from the water and draped a cloth around his midsection. Once that was done, he took a second cloth and began drying his hair, face, and chest.

“Stuart…” Cait had walked in and now stood frozen. Her gaze locked on his chest. Then slowly it traveled down to the precarious hold the cloth had on his hips. Finally, she dragged her eyes up to meet his.

Then he saw it, the attraction she still had for him.