And she did kiss him back.
And then she let him pull her inside the hut and close the door behind them.
Conall made love to Eve slowly, tenderly, both in deference to her blossoming shape as well as Conall’s desire to savor this closeness with his wife. Their couplings were their most perfect time together; they did not row or argue when he was deep inside her, and kissing her mouth. There was no talk of towns or kin or journeys or the uncertain future they faced. Of secrets or fears or regrets. Just the heady give and take of lovers, when Conall could show Eve with his body what he could not express in words.
Every morning, he looked forward to waking with Eve at his side. Of seeing her body growing more round with his child. He found a deep contentment and a strange sense of strength in moving through the days at the hut with her in their simple, rugged chores and their care of the animals. Conall felt validated as a man, as a husband, as a leader. Eve let him indulge in his new role of helpmate as Nonna never had, and Conall’s mind, heart, and body had flourished because of her.
The destruction of the curse was now secondary in his mind, for the other gifts she had given him overshadowed all the bad, spreading hope and light—
—and love.
And that was why, once they were both spent and dewed with sweat and lying tangled together in the box bed, Conall was ready to begin putting the past in its ready grave. He pulled a long strand of her auburn hair from across her throat and pushed it over her shoulder.
“Are you keen for a bit of a journey tomorrow, lass?”
She glanced up at him through spiky lashes, her surprise obvious. “The MacKerrick town? But I thought—”
Conall shook his head and smoothed his forefinger over her soft lips. She was so beautiful, lush.
“There is a matter long in want of my attention; one that needs be settled before I—we—can go home.”
Conall felt more than saw Eve relax. She was now smoothing a small, soft palm across his chest, ruffling the hair against her skin idly. “Oh? And where does this settling dictate we go?”
“I must meet with the Buchanan.”
Eve froze, her gaze halted somewhere on Conall’s throat. “Why?”
“’Tis customary that clans joined in marriage are aware of the fact prior to the intended couple wedding,” he said in a teasing tone. “But since we have dispensed with that tradition, ’tis only respectful that we inform Angus of our union, and of his future”—Conall paused and looked at Eve curiously—“great-nephew? Grandchild?” He waited for her correction.
It never came. “I don’t think that is such a good idea now, MacKerrick,” she said grudgingly. She had removed her hand from his chest and pulled the blanket up over her as she rolled to her back.
“Why? I would think you eager to at last meet your kin and bring the news of the old witch’s passing to her brother.”
“Don’t call her that,” Eve snapped.
“I’m sorry, lass,” he said, properly chastised. Conall snaked an arm over her belly to draw Eve closer to him but she held herself rigid. “Eve? What is it?”
“I simply don’t want to go,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because Idon’t, MacKerrick.”
Conall frowned. Eve had been moody and contrary of late, true, but he could not fathom a reason for her reluctance to visit her kin.
“Is it the bairn, Eve? Or me?” he asked gently, needing to understand. “Do you fear the Buchanan will refuse you?”
“That is exactly what I fear.” The words were spoken so softly that Conall had to lean forward to catch them. She turned her head and Conall could see the alarm in the gray-blue depths of her eyes. “I am a stranger to him. You do not understand.”
He smiled at her self-conscious dread and cupped her cheek. “You’ll be a right surprise, aye,” he began.
Eve huffed a mirthless laugh. “You’ve no idea.”
“But Angus will soon give over his shock,” he continued, wanting Eve to find peace with the task. Needing her to. She must. “We are wed, after all. What choice will he have, hmm? It canna be undone. And the journey will be an easy one for you should we leave right away—two days, at most, following the valley west the whole of the way to Loch Lomond.”
Eve shrugged again and shook her head.
“We must go,” Conall insisted. “’Tis my duty as clan chief. To not inform the Buchanan that I have wed a member of his clan is a great affront. One my town canna afford the consequences of.” He grimaced, but forged on. “Our towns have been…uneasy with each other for some time, as it is.”
