“Are ye well today?” Robert took a step back from her and passed his glance over her from head to toe. Warmth spread through all the places his eyes touched. “Ye still look pale.”
“Aye, I feel much better today. Firtha told me that you rescued me from my faint at supper. ’Tis sorry I am that you had to see that.”
Anice looked at the ground, searching for a safe place to step. She needed to get to Moira’s cottage, needed to get someplace safe to think about what she had witnessed. She had seen the kiss exchanged by Robert and one of the village whores. It should not have bothered her. She knew quite well that men sought out the comforts and pleasures of the flesh regularly.
Pleasures? Mayhap that was not the correct word to apply to it, in her opinion. Robert’s seeking a whore shouldn’t matter.
But it did.
It left her unsettled inside. He didn’t seem the kind of man to run off to a whore as soon as he’d arrived. Well, she’d been wrong before about men, so...
“Struan told me it happens more and more?” Robert offered his arm. She ignored it and took a careful step towards Moira’s.
“’Tis the babe, Moira says. She and Struan are two oldhens, clucking about me.”
“They worry about ye, Anice. About the babe and ye as well.”
The babe. ’Twould the babe always come before her? She knew the answer before the question even finished forming in her mind. Aye, the babe, quite possibly the heir of the clan. Never for herself, only for what she could give to the clan. Shaking her head, she roused herself from her reverie.
’Twas her place. There were expectations on women in her position—marriages to join clans, money and land to support them, and children to inherit them. No one could ever say that Anice MacNab, now heavy with a babe who could be the MacKendimen heir, did not do her duty to the clan. Once, though, it would be nice to feel safe and secure and wanted for who she was, not what she could give. But, who was she?
Anice rubbed her belly as she walked carefully down the narrow path. The sun peeked in and out of the clouds, never warming the frigid air. Robert matched her steps, obviously shortening his longer strides next to her waddling ones. It must be the babe making her so maudlin and weepy lately. And the fainting. Struan ordered her to see Moira often, so she was on her way there now. Was he also going to Moira’s?
“I mustn’t keep you from your duties, Robert. You do not have to accompany me. I am quite well now.” She drew to a stop at the crossing of the paths in the village. The path away from the village center led to Moira’s. Now that he was done with Robena, she knew not where he was headed.
“I would like to see Moira also, Anice, if you’ll but lead the way.”
“You want to see Moira? Oh, to ask about your father, I’m sure. Or do you also know her from your growing up here?”
“Also?” Robert looked at her, questioning her with his gaze. He blinked and shook his head. “Ah, so you saw me at Robena’s. ’Tis true, I knew both Moira and Robena afore I left the village those years ago.”
She felt silly; heat flooded her cheeks at her unseemly curiosity. It should not matter who he knew before and who he did not. Who he visited, who he...
But it did.
“I was not sure,” she stammered out. “You left a few years before I came, so I know not who is familiar to you and who is not. Not,” she added, “that it is my business to pry.”
“Ye are no’ prying, Anice. Curiosity is a normal thing. Actually, from what I heard in the hall last night, there are a few new families who I dinna ken.” He paused and held out his arm again. “Come, let me help ye in yer walk to Moira’s and ye can tell me who is new to the village.”
He was not going to allow her to refuse. The moment dragged on—his arm extended in the space between them. She waited for him to lower it, but he did not. She waited for him to simply start walking, but he did not. She waited for him to say something, but no words came. She saw no way out of this without an explanation... which she would not give.
Finally, she took a deep breath and placed her hand as lightly as was possible on his forearm. The long sleeve of his tunic and her leather gloves kept her hand from contact with his skin. It was... bearable. He lowered it slightly and waited for her to choose a path. She turned and nodded to the right.
“I understaun that Brodie is wed to a woman from the Borders? Her name is Rachelle?” Robert broke into the silence with his question.
Good. Small talk would ease the racing of her heart and help her to think about anything but the strong arm beneath her hand and the man it belonged to.
“Rachelle’s father’s family came from the Borders. Her mother moved there when they married. When Rachelle’s father died, she and her mother returned.”
“How long have they been married?”
His question seemed innocent enough, but her traitorous body shook at the thought of another woman under the physical power of a man. And a huge, strong one at that. No. She forced her fear aside. Brodie was a good man. A good man, she repeated to herself.
“’Twas last year, in the spring. Were you friends with Brodie?” Anice kept her eyes trained on the path before them.
“Aye, we were. A small group of us caused havoc wherever and whenever we went!” His laughter came out loud and deep. She glanced at his face as he continued. “Hellions,we were. Brodie, Ramsey, even”—he nodded his head back towards the way they had come—”even Robena.”
“Robena? The whore?” Anice bit her tongue as the words slipped out. Robert had just identified the woman as one of his friends and now she’d insulted her. Friends? With a lass? Unconventional, to be sure. Anice stared in puzzlement over Robert’s acceptance of a woman within his circle of friends.
