Seduced by Her Highland Warrior. Michelle Willingham

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СКАЧАТЬ her, now that she’s gone back to Locharr.’ With a glance to Laren, she added, ‘But I’m glad she wasn’t here when we were attacked.’ She reached out and gave the baby a warm hug.

      Adaira toddled towards Laren, her baby lips puckered. ‘Kiss, Mama.’ Though she was not quite two years old, she alternated between wanting to cling to Laren’s legs or demanding that she do everything by herself.

      Laren leaned down and pressed her mouth against the baby’s, feeling the sweetness of innocent affection. ‘Go with your sister, sweeting.’ To Mairin, she directed, ‘Get Adaira a cake to eat.’

      ‘You shouldn’t let Alex speak to you that way,’ Vanora said, dropping her voice. ‘Chief or no, you should stand up for yourself.’

      Laren supposed it might seem that way to an outsider. ‘It would do no good,’ she admitted. ‘Once he’s made up his mind, he won’t listen to any arguments.’

      ‘Nothing wrong with a fight now and then,’ Vanora said, sending her a wicked look. ‘Sometimes strong words can lead to making up.’

      Laren coloured, knowing exactly what the matron was implying. But she didn’t enjoy verbal sparring, and it was doubtful that it would lead to anything more. Alex hadn’t touched her in a long time. Over the past few months, he’d started coming to bed late at night. He fell asleep almost immediately and rose at dawn. The days when he’d reached for her in the morning, stealing a kiss or making love to her, were long gone.

      She didn’t blame him for it. It was part of being chief of the clan, and she understood the obligations he faced. But sometimes … she was lonely.

      If Alex had shown the slightest desire to be with her, to talk with her the way he’d used to, she might have told him the secret she’d kept for nearly three years—the one that had kept her from burying herself in grief when she’d lost their baby.

      When her husband could offer no solace, she’d gone to the priest, Father Nolan. The older man had taught her the art of glassmaking as a means of occupying her time. With fire and breath she’d found redemption and beauty. There was nothing more miraculous than the blending of sand, minerals and heat to form colourful panes of glass. The craft had given her hope and helped her survive those nightmarish months when she’d barely slept or eaten from the heart-wrenching loss.

      Within a year, she had become the priest’s apprentice and in the craft she’d found the part of herself that she’d lost. Now, she could no more give it up than she could give up breathing. But she’d done it in secret for so long, she was afraid to tell anyone. Only her apprentice Ramsay, Nairna and Lady Marguerite knew of it. She didn’t know what Alex would think, for she was afraid he wouldn’t see the value in it.

      You need to put aside your fear and try to sell your pieces, she told herself. If she could find a buyer, the silver coins would allow them to replenish the food and supplies they’d lost during the battle. It was her best hope of helping the people.

      But the last time she’d tried, it had resulted in disaster. She and Nairna had given Dougal the glass, not telling him where it was from, and he’d been cheated by a merchant. The weeks of hard work were lost for ever, and she still felt the disappointment of it.

      Vanora cooked more oat cakes for the girls while Laren went to warm her hands near the fire. The beechwood was dying down into coals, with plentiful ashes from the night before. She poked at the wood, stoking the flames. Though she forced herself to eat with the girls, she wasn’t particularly hungry.

      As she stared at the heated coals, she thought of the immense heat necessary for making glass. Her mind started to drift, and she imagined spending the day with her sand and minerals. She needed more ashes and—

      Ashes. There were plenty of those now, weren’t there? If she gathered them up, the raw materials would allow her to make larger quantities of glass. Alex won’t like it, her mind warned. He ordered you to stay out of the way.

      She dismissed the thought. Likely he wouldn’t even notice she was there. The girls would enjoy helping her fill buckets of ash, especially if she challenged them to bring as many as possible to the cavern.

      ‘Girls, are you finished eating?’ she asked. Mairin nodded, taking Adaira’s hand. ‘Good.’

      Laren made sure the girls were dressed warmly enough, pulling a hood over Adaira’s hair. ‘We’re going to go and help your father. I want you to find wooden buckets and you’ll help us to clean up.’

      ‘And what will you say to your husband when he finds you’ve disobeyed him?’ Vanora prompted.

      She sent the matron a slight shrug and a smile. ‘What were you saying about a good fight, now and then?’

      Vanora beamed and led the way outside. Laren reached for a wooden bucket and asked, ‘May I take this and bring it back to you later?’

      The matron nodded. ‘I’ll come along with you.’

      They walked towards the burned remains of the keep. Further ahead, Laren heard the sounds of boys fighting. She motioned for Vanora to keep the girls back while she went to investigate.

      ‘Thief! Did you think you’d get away with stealing?’ The adolescent boy pounded at a crouched figure who was bleeding in the dirt. Another boy stood on the opposite side, kicking the victim.

      ‘Get away from him!’ Laren reached in and grasped the older one by the back of his tunic, trying to pull him off the boy she couldn’t see.

      When she revealed the victim’s face, she suppressed her cry of dismay. It was Ramsay, her apprentice. The tow-headed boy was eleven years old, and he had a bloody nose from the fight. But there were also older bruises, likely from his father’s fists. In his grimy hand, he held a crust of bread.

      ‘What happened?’ she demanded. ‘Why would you fight over bread?’

      ‘Our grain stores burned,’ the first boy said. ‘We caught him stealing from our da.’

      ‘Do you think your chief would let a family go hungry? Would he deny you food?’

      ‘Ramsay should’ve gone elsewhere to beg.’

      Laren shook her head, sending the boy a look of disgust. ‘Go back to your homes. Leave him alone.’

      When they’d gone, she knelt down beside her apprentice and used her hand to wipe away the blood. ‘Can you sit up?’

      Pain wrinkled his mouth, but Ramsay managed to nod. His fingers were still clenched around the crust of bread.

      ‘Did you steal that?’ Laren asked quietly. His face coloured with shame and his silence was answer enough.

      ‘You could have come to me,’ she said gently.

      He kept his head lowered and she knew he hadn’t asked her for food out of pride. ‘Go to the cavern and start the furnaces,’ she ordered. ‘I’ll bring food to you when I come.’

      The command seemed to break through his dark mood and stony grey eyes stared into hers. For the past year, Ramsay had been her apprentice, helping her to keep the furnaces running. It gave him a means of escaping his father’s fists and she couldn’t make her glass without him.

      ‘Do СКАЧАТЬ