She wanted to forget her past. He never wanted to forget his.
And yet, once again, he had not thought of Alison all morning. He had not felt her in the mists or heard her laughter in the wind. Instead, he’d heardanother voice.
I will never ferget ye, Constantine.
It felt like a hook piercing him in the gut. He wanted to forget her. He wanted to forget the possibility of being happy again. Too many of his fellow patriots had died in battle against Cromwell’s forces. His wife died giving birth to their child, who left the earth soon after. Too much pain and loss had seeped into his heart. He had learned to live with it, never wanting anything more.
He still did not want more. His life was just fine.
He scowled and aimed it over his shoulder at her. The more he had, the more he’d be afraid to lose.
“Am I correct to believe yer pout is aimed at me?”
“Pout?” he asked incredulously. He did notpout.
“Whatever it is ye are doing with yer face,” she clarified…sort of.
“Nae, ye are no’ correct. I am no’scowlin’at ye.” He returned his attention to the unseen dirt road in the fog.
“Do ye know where ye are going in this mist?” she asked. “’Tis getting thicker.”
“Do ye intend to insult me every time ye open yer mouth?” he asked, brooding fully.
She hardly noticed and hurried to catch up to him. When she reached him, she clung to his arm.
He almost pulled away. No woman had touched him since…but he let Ismay Drummond cling to him. From the moment he met her, he let her cling to him.
It was not such a terrible or forbidden thing to do. In fact, it was a wise decision on her part, he thought. Rather she clung to him than try to foolishly go off on her own again.
He let her hold on, ignoring the blaring warnings going off in his head and led her down the hill.
Like a curtain parting, the mist rose above them, leaving them in the bright light of day. She did not release him immediately. He crooked his arm and laid her hand on his elbow.
But as if she were just coming awake, she moved away from him.
He kept going and only paused when she stopped behind him. “Are ye comin’?”
“With ye?” she asked.
Instead of a reply, he gave her a look that asked if she was dull-witted.
“Where are ye off to, Lochiel?”
She was back to calling him Lochiel then, he thought with an impatient sigh. “I am meetin’ with the council.”
She nodded and hurried to him.
Continuing onward, he smiled despite himself. He was eager to discover the effect this breath of fresh air had on the elders of the clan.
“Are ye smiling, Chief?” she nagged beside him.
“Nae,” he answered, tossing heaven a patient look.
Then he smiled again.
Chapter Nine
“Idinna careif the land was handed down to Angus Cameron,” said the brutish looking Highlander standing before the Lochiel. “He lost the deeds in poker fair and square!”
