Side by side. To keep a closer watch upon her? Or to be nearer to her?
Suddenly breathless, Aislinn steered her horse toward him even as she knew from the way he looked at her, that it was the latter—and she wanted it, too.
To be nearer to him… and she had never felt that before for any man.
Especially not the one her father had chosen for her husband—saints help her, she didn’t want to think about that unwanted arrangement!
She would choose her own husband one day, Aislinn wondering if Cameron had any say in those prospective brides coming to Campbell Castle.
He couldn’t have escaped the great hall any faster, so she doubted it. A landed baron with no wife—aye, she could well imagine that his clan would wish to see him wed, and quickly.
That thought gave Aislinn a pang, which made her sigh and cast a glance at Cameron.
He glanced at her, too, locking eyes with her as they rode away from the farm, his men falling into formation behind them.
No hint of reticence at all in his gaze, but an intensity that made her heart beat faster as Conall’s words came flying back to her.
Mayhap you’re the cure he’s been praying for…
She had pondered them last night, too, unable to fall asleep for a long time—and it wasn’t only because Cameron lay so close to her, aye, only an arm’s length away.
Everything they had shared with each other had astonished her… Aislinn still surprised at herself for telling him about her father’s indifference.
Still surprised that Cameron had given his knife to her and told her about his secret pain since childhood.
Saints preserve him, no one would ever suspect from looking at the man that conversing with women or even being around them was so difficult for him! Yet he seemed to be trying so hard to overcome a wretched plight that no one should suffer—least of all as formidable a warrior as Laird Cameron Campbell.
Aye, he wasn’t only trying hard—but had praised her skill with the sword unlike anyone had done before.Praised her!
Only Finnegan—a trusted captain long in her father’s service who had pitied her for his disinterest and agreed to teach her about weapons—had paid her any compliments, though he’d critiqued her far more often.
Your life will depend upon it, Aislinn, you must do better!
Hold the sword thus, aye, now thrust before they have a chance to kill you!
Lift your shield higher, Aislinn, aye, that’s it!
Her skill with horses had come naturally since she was a girl, but Cameron had commended her for that, too!
Then he’d said Aislinn reminded him of Gabriel MacLachlan’s wife, Magdalene, a woman whom he clearly admired and considered strong, spirited, and with a mind of her own. Aislinn had dreamed of hearing such praise from her father, but instead it had come from a man whom she had only known for a handful of days—
“How is it that you’re not married, Aislinn?”
Her breath caught. She couldn’t have been more startled than if Cameron had once again yanked her onto his horse. Her face burned, too, as Cameron seemed to note her discomposure.
“Forgive me. Conall said he asked you if you were married or betrothed—”
“Aye, he did, and I told him no!” Aislinn cut him off, her voice shrill to her ears and her steed’s as well, the stallion snorting and tossing his head. She eased her tightened grip on the reins even as Gabriel edged his mount closer.
“It wasna my intent tae upset you, but you told me last night that your brother was born three years after you. Did your father take a raw youth with him into battle?”
“Daran is nearly eighteen and no raw youth—”
“Ah, so that makes you nearly twenty-one and well past the age when most highborn women are married.”
“I told you my father paid me little heed, which in that respect, was fine with me! He was forever busy with matters of his estate or traveling to Dublin, taking my brother with him, and my mother died long ago.”
“Och, God rest her. So you were left by yourself and Finnegan stepped in?”
