The lass knew how to get straight to the point, didn’t she? “Ye always need to be right.”
That observation made her chuckle, and her eyes glittered for a moment. “’Tis better than being wrong, is it not?”
He shook his head. “Everyone loses once in a while, lass. ’Tis how we learn, become better at what we do.”
In whatever way his thoughts affected her, the playful expression was replaced by a somber one. “A woman in my position cannot afford to be wrong.”
He considered her wisdom for a moment before replying. She possessed a youthful face and body but the mind of an elder woman. Would she ever share the intimate details of her life so he would understand what made her the way she was? “You are an intriguing mix of contradictions, I fear. Which makes me only more curious, more drawn to ye.”
She held his gaze, assessing him. “I admit ye are a wee surprise, too. I expected the eldest son of the laird to be as critical and stubborn as his sire. But ye are the opposite. It makes me wonder what yer siblings are like.”
“Aye, well…” He rubbed his hands together. “I suppose ye want to hear about all of them?”
She nodded.
“The next in line is me brother, Aodh. Though he’s not as clever as me, he’s a decent lad, I suppose. We doona see eye to eye on most things, so he spends a lot of time with our neighboring clan, the MacLeeries.”
“By choice?”
“Aye. There’s a bit of jealousy involved, for he covets the laird’s chair. Though he’s in love with the youngest MacLeery daughter.”
“Is it a good match?”
Adam rubbed his chin. “Aye. But I must marry before any of me siblings do.”
She nodded in understanding. “What about your other brothers?”
“Struan and Kerk are pleasant lads, both gifted with the sword. Ye will eventually meet them. Then there’s me sister, Yvaine—she is but fourteen, and our father keeps her hidden away with her maids. When I can, I take her for rides on me horse, for she loves to explore the meadows and play with the wee lambs.”
“Ye love her,” she whispered.
“More than anything.”
She reached for his hand, grasping it in desperation, squeezing it so hard, he inhaled sharply. “I understand that sort of love,” she choked out. “That kind of love hurts right here.” She rested her free hand over her heart. “My sisters are made of everything kind and innocent in this world. And I promised me mam before she died that I would protect them always.”
He found himself squeezing her hand back, hoping to provide some comfort for Kali, for he could not only sense her heartache but could see it straining her lovely features. Being separated from her sisters wounded her deeply. “’Tis not yer fault.”
“What?” she asked sharply.
There it was again, the toughness she hung onto and wielded as a weapon whenever she thought someone was judging her. “That ye were sent away.”
Her shoulders drooped then, and she settled their intertwined fingers on her lap, giving no indication that she intended to let his hand go. “Lord Nelson is not the sort of man any lass should marry.”
“Has he harmed ye, lass?”
“Nay,” she said. “But my maids dared to tell me he has unnatural tastes in the bedchamber…”
“Unnatural tastes?” What could Kali possibly know about bedsport? Had she…
“Ungodly habits with women,” she explained further.
He held his hand up to stop her. “I doona need ye to explain anymore, lass.” The very thought of such a devil—a Sassenach pig—touching her, made him want to hurt someone in defense of her honor. “Why did yer father pick such a man for ye?”
She turned her head toward him and gazed long and hard into his eyes. Kali had a way of disarming him with the flutter of her eyelashes or the simple tilt of her beautiful head. Her calming voice was like balm for his often chaotic soul. All of this in the couple of days that he had known her…
“I am the first and most constant reminder of my sire’s failures.”
“How could that be?”
