“Hey!” she protested, yanking her hand back.
“Thanks for sharing,” he said with a wink. “I used to make myself ill eating them as a lad when I could find them. They only flower every so often around here.”
She ate the last one before he could try to snatch it away—which he’d been contemplating.
“Will you take me to find some more? I should like to surprise the king. I think he should prefer them to the peas the cook has prepared for the evening meal.”
He made a face. “I should think so. Where did your brother find them?”
“A few miles back—I wish he’d thought to mention it earlier. But as the patch was close to the road, he said most were already gone. Is there someplace else we might look?”
He thought for a minute. “They grow in the bogs and forests around Ben Wyvis, but there might be a place we could try that’s not too far away. But I’m afraid your surprise for the king—if we can find them—will have to wait until after the evening meal. I cannot sneak away right now.”
She frowned, noticing her brother watching them from the other side of the king’s tent. “Sneak away is right. Perhaps you could send my brother and Donald on a long scouting mission? To Ireland perhaps?”
He chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do. But as I recall, you were always fairly good at eluding them.”
Her mouth twitched mischievously. “I think I feel the beginnings of a horrible headache.”
Fortunately, the headache wasn’t necessary. Sutherland and Munro volunteered for scouting duties, and after attending his duties and leaving MacGregor to watch the king, Magnus found Helen with her tiring women by the loch. She muttered a hasty excuse that the king must have need of her and raced away before the poor women could stop her.
“I feel a bit sorry for them with you for a charge.”
She grinned unrepentantly. “Don’t worry, they’re used to it. You did notice all the gray hair beneath the veils?”
He shook his head. She’d given him one or two that he could remember as well. Some of the places she used to hide…
He shuddered, glad those days were past.
With the long days of summer, there was still an hour or two left of daylight as Magnus led her away from the camp into the forests along the lower slopes of Beinn Liath Mhor. They fell into a familiar banter of her talking and him listening. It was so reminiscent of the way things used to be, he had to force himself not to reach for her hand, reminding himself that it wasn’t the same—and never would be again.
But if his hand lingered on hers as he helped her over boggy patches and uneven ground, he told himself he had a duty to ensure she didn’t stumble.
They had to walk about a mile before a telltale patch of orange appeared low on a hillside ahead of them.
Her cry of delight went right to his chest. His heart tugged so hard, he had a hard time reining it in. He was in trouble and knew it. He’d let his guard down. The forced proximity had drawn him in. But like Icarus from the sun, he could not pull himself back.
After they gorged themselves silly, and she filled her veil (as a makeshift basket) with dozens of the plump and juicy berries, he reluctantly told her it was time to go back. It would be dark soon; already the forest was filled with shadows.
“Do we have to?”
“If you’d rather, we can wait here for your brother to come looking for you.”
She looked up at him with those big blue eyes, a hint of a challenge in the tilt of her chin. “I don’t mind.”
“Aye, well, as much as I’m tempted to put another crook in your brother’s nose, I’d prefer to end the day on a pleasant note.”
She bit her lip, eyes twinkling. “It has been nice, hasn’t it?”
“Aye.” The temptation was getting harder to resist. The hopefulness in her gaze…
Forcibly, he tore his eyes away and started back through the forest.
Not yours…
But she had been, damn it. The past few days—weeks—had brought it all back to him. She could be again.
His mouth tightened. That was, if her family disappeared and he could forget…
