Patrick slung the bow over his shoulder and followed her across thebarmkinand out the gate. She slowed to allow him to walk up beside her. They walked in companionable silence for a while, enjoying the sun and fresh air. It was a beautiful day. After so much rain, the colors of the landscape seemed even more vibrant against the clear blue sky.
It didn't take long to reach the top of the hill. Bending down, she began to collect the colorful bluebells. A corner of his mouth lifted in a wry smile as he noticed how much care she took in choosing each one, examining the petals and testing the strength of the stem before plucking the flower from the ground. He shook his head, wondering at the attention to detail and the obvious pride with which she attended even the smallest of her duties.
It wasn't that she was a perfectionist, but simply that she took pride in her task and possessed an uncanny ability to make everyone comfortable.
From the short time he'd spent in the keep, he'd noticed that very little escaped her attention. She took her role as lady of the castle seriously. It was also clear that she'd been groomed to the position from birth. Again, he thought of what she would be giving up. But the thought of Glen -orchy's son was enough to keep any residual pangs of conscience at bay.
Seeing that this was going to take a while, he sat down, resting his back against a tree, content just to watch her as she flitted around like a wee sprite, her fair hair shining like white gold in the sun and her eyes sparkling with excitement.
It was rare to see her smile so freely, without restraint. He'd noticed it the first time he'd seen her. Happiness tinged with uncertainty. The smile of a person who never knew when disaster would strike but knew that it would. Something he could understand, and one of the things that had drawn him to her. He assumed it was the result of her stammer and her previous romantic disappointments. And like him, she'd lost her parents at an early age.
From the furtive glances directed his way, he could tell that she was aware of his eyes following her.
“What are you doing?”
“Watching you.”
“I can see that. But do you have to do it so … intensely?”
He cocked an eyebrow, enjoying her discomfort. “It's my job.”
She scowled. “Well, if you are simply going to watch my every move with that enigmatic expression on your face, at least come over here and make yourself useful,” she said, holding out the basket.
He chuckled and made a slow show of strolling to her side. But the obvious enjoyment she took in her task was contagious, and soon enough he found himself exclaiming over her finds with nearly as much enthusiasm as she did.
To a man forced to seek shelter in the wild, the Highlands were an inhospitable place. But through her eyes, he saw the beauty of the countryside anew.
“You mentioned something you wished to discuss with me?”
“Oh, I …” Two pretty spots of pink appeared upon her cheeks. “I can't seem to recall.”
He gave her a look that said he knew exactly what she'd done. It seemed Elizabeth Campbell had no great fondness for her cousin's guardsman, either. “If you remember, let me know.”
“I'll do that.” She picked a few more stems and added them to the growing pile in the basket. “I was surprised to see you in the practice yard today.” She paused, then added shyly, “I didn't mean to interfere with your duties.”
Patrick gave her a long look, knowing she meant it as an apology. A lass had no business interfering in a warrior's work, but he could not muster the admonition. It seemed he'd developed an annoying proclivity for having her worry about him.
“You didn't interfere with anything. I'd only just arrived myself.” As they started to walk back, he adjusted the basket, which had grown quite full.“I don't think your captain is particularly anxious to have us join his guardsmen.”
She lifted her chin and looked him in the eye, a steely glint in her crystalline gaze. “It's not his place to decide.” Her voice was every bit as hard and uncompromising as her brother's, and it took him aback. Her gentle, sweet disposition made it easy to forget the life of privilege and power from whence she came. But Campbell blood stirred in her veins, and he'd best remember it.
She smiled and the glint was gone. “My brother made his instructions clear enough. Finlay can be … difficult, but he is a good warrior. You'll let me know if—”
“ ’Tis nothing I cannot handle.” It would be a cold day in hell before he went running to a wee lass to fight his battles for him.
Her mouth quirked as if she could read his thoughts. “I'm sure there is very little you cannot handle.”
Their eyes met. There was nothing suggestive in her voice, but her obvious faith and confidence in him had the same effect. It warmed a very cold part of his heart. He smiled wryly. “Oh, you'd be surprised.”
She laughed and they continued down the hill. He studied her out of the corner of his eye, taking in the details that had become so fascinating to him: the delicate profile, the slim nose and petal-soft pink lips, the long lashes that fanned out at the edges, giving her eyes a seductive tilt, and the smooth, creamy skin flushed from exertion and the sun. But it was her eyes that truly mesmerized, dominating her elfin face. Crystal clear and as blue as the sky was wide, set off by arched brows drawn with a faint hand.
Everything about her seemed so fragile, but he knew it was deceptive. She was stronger than she looked.
He couldn't understand how someone had not snatched her up by now, and he wondered if he'd been wrong about her—was it Elizabeth who did not want to marry? He spoke his thoughts aloud. “How is it that you have not yet married?”
She stiffened ever so slightly, a flash of raw vulnerability on her face. The same vulnerability that had drawn him to her initially, making him yearn to protect her and pull her into his arms.
The same vulnerability that he'd come to exploit.
