“I can see yer point, wife,” he huffed.
“Thus, I’m adding another rule.” She sat up straighter, a regal air about her.
She wasbreathtaking, and he hated that he noticed. Eventually, her words registered.
“Ye cannae tell theLairdwhat to do!” He hated that he sounded like a whiny child.
“I am the lady of this castle, Caden Hunt, and ye will listen to what I have to say.” She shot him an icy glare.
He could have sworn her hair turned redder when she was mad. He braced himself, sure she would demand that he leave, that he give her time and space.
“Go on, then, Lady MacCabe,” he baited her just to see her eyes flush again. How he wanted to tame her. He knew many ways to make her surrender. Perhaps he could start rising her dress--.
“Every day, we will spend at least an hour doing something together as a family.” She looked him in the eyes, interrupting his thoughts. He could see she was challenging him to protest.
He could also see there was no point in arguing with her, because she did have a point, but he could not just let her get away with disobedience. Also, a tiny –really tiny—part of him just to hear her speak again.
“What about me rule, lass? What about nae botherin’ me?” He looked at her straight in the eye. She did not avert her gaze.
“Too bad. Ye married a woman who likes to break the rules and make her own every once in a while, me Laird.”
He opened his mouth to retort, but she cut him off.
“The way I see it, it’s more important that I help Nathan to speak and be his maither than obey yer rule. So, if ye want to be involved in raising yer own nephew, ye can stand to be ‘bothered’ every once in a while.”
The gall of this woman!
“We’ll see about that.”
“Aye, we will,” she shot back with an arched eyebrow and a smile that was all challenge.
She stood, her blue gown swishing around her ankles as she walked to the door. She turned to look at him one last time.
“Maybe ye should have gotten to ken me before ye married me, husband.”
CHAPTER 6
The thudof hooves against the packed earth echoed in the air as Caden raced Finlay. It was a silly, childish tradition, but it filled Caden’s lungs with fresh air and his heart with the little bit of joy it was capable of containing.
Once they reached the old yew tree at the entrance of the village, they would start their rounds. However, this was one of the few moments that Caden allowed himself to forget his responsibilities as Laird. He was able to enjoy his time with his brother, his horse’s powerful body flying him through the Highlands and the wind washing away any emotion.
It was a slice of heaven on earth.
Finlay’s horse, a black beast named Argus, pushed through the final leg over the bridge that crossed the river that led to the loch and arrived at the yew tree first.
The tree had been there for hundreds of years, guarded by Clan MacCabe, and would be there for hundreds more. Its twin stood in the castle’s outer courtyard.
Legend had it that the spirit of the loch, a lady in white, gave an ancient king and his bride two trees to mark their love for each other and her land, which she let them steward. She charged them with caring for the loch and the people who lived off of it.
So they took that responsibility to heart and planted a tree at the entrance to their kingdom and one in the courtyard to remind them of their duty to the people and the land. The king and queen’s descendants lost land and power throughout the years, but never faltered in their duty. Eventually, their kingdom became a clan called the MacCabes.
Caden studied the tree. He remembered his father sitting him and his siblings down beneath it, and telling them the story of the kindly king and queen. He had charged them with the duty of caring for the land and people, just as his father had done, and his father before him, and so on.
It was the greatest honor. Indeed, Caden would guard this land until the day he died. He could almost see his father sleeping under the tree. It brought a nostalgic smile to his face.
“Och, Braither, ye’re nae listening to anything I have to say!” Finlay protested.
“Ach, I’m sorry.” Caden rubbed the neck of his beloved white mount he called Michel, and urged him to follow Finlay’s horse.
