He startled. “Nay, why?”
“Aren’t you going to get down? I assume this is our destination?”
He cursed under his breath, trying to cover his embarrassment. How long had they been standing there?
He pried his arm from around her waist and jumped down. After helping her to dismount, he tied the reins to a post. “Wait here, while I make sure we are welcome.” She nodded, but then he thought of something else. “It is important that you only call me by my first name.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“Lamont is not exactly a welcome name in these parts. There are some who still believe that my kinsmen had a hand in killing William Wallace’s father.” Not to mention that his cousin, the exiled Lamont chief, was a vassal of the Earl of Menteith, the man who was responsible for turning Wallace himself over to the English.
Normally, he would simply use his war name of Hunter. But with Janet here that wasn’t an option. She knew too much already.
Fortunately, the answer seemed to satisfy her. “Very well. And who am I?”
He knew what she was asking, but there was no way in Hades that he was going to pretend to be married to her again. He couldn’t stand another night of sleeping beside her. “Janet. That is all they need to know. I would not make them uncomfortable by learning that they serve the king’s sister-in-law in their humble abode.”
“I would not make anyone uncomfortable, but it has been many years since I’ve been served by anyone. I do not expect it, nor do I wish it. I assure you, this humble abode will seem like a castle compared to some of the places I’ve stayed.”
He didn’t miss the soft rebuke. If she was also trying to tell him that their difference in station didn’t matter to her, he pretended not to understand. It might not matter to her, but it would to the king. Of that he was damned well sure.
With one last look that felt suspiciously like goodbye, Ewen went to find the farmer.
Once Janet realized the truth of her feelings for Ewen, everything seemed to fall into place. If she had any doubts about what she wanted, they were soon put aside upon arriving at the small farmstead.
She sat at the table set out before the softly glowing peat fire, enjoying the warmth that enveloped her. It wasn’t just the heat from the flames or the satisfaction of a good meal, but also the company. The Wallaces were gracious hosts, and their happiness was contagious.
Ewen was right; not all marriages were horrible. The Wallaces were proof of that. Their fond banter, subtle loving glances, and unconscious touches spoke of possibility.
Robert Wallace was a distant cousin of William Wallace. He’d fought alongside his illustrious relative until six years before, when Robert lost a hand at a skirmish in Earnside. Margaret was considerably younger than her husband, and far prettier. The dainty, dark-haired lass with her elfin features and slim build seemed utterly wrong beside the grizzled warrior of around forty years, who had the towering height of his famous relative and the imposing bulk of a smith. But somehow they went together perfectly. Her bright laughter and open, sunny nature complemented her husband’s gruff, taciturn disposition. It was clear he doted on his young wife. His youngpregnantwife.
The odd pang Janet had felt in her chest when she’d first realized Margaret was with child had become more identifiable as the evening wore on. It was longing. Sharp, aching longing.
On the heels of her own “pregnancy,” Janet had never felt the absence of children in her life so acutely. Of course, there were times over the years when she’d thought of a child—of what she would be giving up by taking the veil—but given that a child required a husband, and considering the importance of the work she was doing, it seemed a small price to pay. In the abstract, perhaps it was. But it didn’t feel so small right now, sitting with a beaming pregnant woman on one side and the man she’d just realized she loved on the other.
It felt like something she wanted. With him. Children. Cozy nights before the fire. Loving glances and tender touches. She wanted what the Wallaces had.
She knew what that meant.Marriage.
She waited for a few seconds to react to the word, but the usual bad taste did not rise to the back of her mouth. Itmustbe love, she thought with a wry smile. With Ewen, a happy marriage seemed possible.
She knew there were complications. The king for one, her work for another. Robert was probably the easier of the two. If Ewen was indeed in his secret guard as she suspected, that would help. Ewen wouldn’t like the idea of her continuing her work, but he understood how important it was to her. He wasn’t like her father and brother—he wouldn’t try to stick her in some box. He valued her—he’d told her as much. If he loved her, they would find a way to make it work—like Magnus and Helen.
She’d finally met a man who was strong enough to let her be herself. His force of will might be a lot quieter than hers, but it was just as strong. There would be battles between them, aye, but she was looking forward to them.
Of course, she wasn’t the only one who needed to be convinced that it was a good idea. He wanted her, of that she had no doubt, and he cared for her—he’d admitted as much. But did he want tomarryher? He’d said it was impossible, but what if it wasn’t?
Her gaze slid to the man in question. He was locked in a quiet conversation with Robert Wallace about the war, while Janet and Margaret finished their meal—the latter pretending not to listen to the men’s discussion.
“Are we talking loud enough for you, wife? I wouldn’t want you to miss any of our private conversation,” Robert said, looking up. His expression was chastising, but his eyes were soft as they fell upon his wife.
Margaret didn’t miss a beat. “That is quite considerate of you, Robert. I’m sure it is all beyond my poor woman’s understanding, but if you could speak a little louder that might help.”
Her eyes danced as she leaned down and whispered to Janet, “Although I’d hardly qualify the exchange of a few words and the occasional grunt a conversation. I don’t know which of them is worse.”
Janet burst out laughing.
Robert’s eyes narrowed on his wife. “What is so funny?”
