Not for her sake, of course.He was far too wild and impetuous for her.
But another lass would certainly appreciate his boldness.His unpredictability.His intensity.
And what woman wouldn’t be thrilled by his warrior’s body?His wide shoulders.His massive hands.His chiseled jaw.His lush mane.His smoky eyes.His broad back and the way it narrowed down to his firm and muscled…
“Carenza?”her father said.
She started.“Aye?”
“I said, tell Sir Hew about your education.”
“Education?”Shite.All she could think about were the warrior’s taut buttocks.“What would ye like to know, Sir Hew?”
But her father couldn’t wait.“She can read and write,” he boasted, “and she knows her numbers.No one will pull the wool o’er Carenza’s eyes when it comes to matters o’ the household.”
Carenza had to bite her tongue.Her father was being painfully transparent, extolling her virtues to the man he hoped to snag as a bridegroom for his daughter.
“’Tis commendable,” Hew said.“What’s your favorite subject?”
She blinked.No one had ever asked her that.Most men were intimidated by her knowledge.Especially warriors, who rarely wasted time on books and study.
She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again.She longed to tell him all about her interest in the natural world.How she studied butterflies and frogs and sparrows.How sometimes, when everyone thought she was stitching embroidery, she was actually working on her own bestiary.But that kind of conversation would trouble her father.
So she said, “I’m fond o’ readin’, I suppose.”
“Me too,” he replied, to her surprise.
“A warrior who reads,” her father marveled.
“Most o’ the Rivenloch clan reads,” Hew told him.“’Tis useful for negotiations along the border.”
Carenza couldn’t help herself.She had to know.“The lasses as well?”
“Aye.Some of our lasses grow up to be lairds.”
Her father frowned.“Sir Hew’s own aunt is the laird o’ Rivenloch.”
She could tell by her father’s tone that she should have known that.But her studies were learning letters and numbers.Not memorizing who was laird of every clan in Scotland.
Thankfully, Sir Hew saved her from the embarrassment of silence by filling in his family history.
“The Rivenloch clan is ancient, born of two cultures that gave equal power to men and women,” he explained.“It began with the marriage of a Viking warrior and a Pictish princess.”
“Och aye,” her father said.“Many Vikin’s took Picts as wives when they invaded.”
“In this instance, ’twas a rare love match,” Hew said.“The Viking was shipwrecked and heartsick, and the Pictish princess was exiled and alone.She took him captive for barter, but as fate would have it, they fell in love.Thus was born the Rivenloch motto.”
Her father replied,“Amor vincit omnia.”
Love conquers all, she silently translated.
“Aye,” Hew said.“It remains to this day, and our tradition of equal power has remained as well.”
“Interestin’,” her father said, which was always what he said when he wasn’t sure he approved.
Carenza was too astonished to comment.
Equal power.How freeing would that be?If she had equal power, she’d keep pets openly in her chamber.And decree that beef was off the menu.And formally announce that she intended to choose her own husband when she was ready.
