“Ride with us and I’ll tell you all along the way—”
“So are my warriors soon tae return tae their posts?” King Robert’s raised voice interrupted her. “I need you in Argyll tae prevent the MacDougalls from trying tae regain power… not here making appeals and taking brides!”
He roared with laughter now, all the clamor and strife clearly having exhilarated him.
It made perfect sense to Aislinn that this powerful, indomitable man was King of Scotland as a chorus of full-throated “Ayes!” answered his query, which made tears rush to her eyes. She left Cameron and her brother and ran to give King Robert a hug, startling him, though he didn’t appear displeased.
“Thank you, my lord king! Thank you!”
“Och, lass, go back tae your fine husband with my blessing. I knew the moment I heard you’d fled the convent that the two of you were destined tae wed—aye, with a wee bit of my help. There’s no sense standing in the way of a red-haired Irishwoman!”
Chapter 24
“Do you think he’ll like it?”
At Aislinn’s soft query, Sorcha nodded and clapped her hands together, her eyes alight as Aislinn slowly turned in a circle.
The silk of her emerald green gown swishing softly while her matching slippers made no sound upon the thick rug.
Since she and Cameron had arrived back at Campbell Castle two weeks past, she had been wearing gowns hastily sewn for her in wool or linen by village seamstresses, for there was no need for her to wear trousers any more. Yet none of those new gowns were as lovely as this one.
The shimmering fabric imported from France was a gift sent from Magdalene, who had insisted in a message that she had far more of the stuff in an assortment of colors than she would ever need, and her newfound friend was welcome to it.
The gown had just been completed an hour ago and rushed to the castle in time for a feast of celebration… for word had come by messenger, too, that King Edward was dead.
His forces pulled back from Carlisle by his son, another Edward, who appeared to have little taste for battle—at least for now.
Aye, the news had brought much rejoicing, and a new task for Aislinn to direct preparations with the chief cook, Montrose, for an elaborate feast that she hoped would be long remembered.
Sorcha had helped her, too. Aislinn had done everything she could to keep the girl busy so as not to succumb to sadness, though there had still been some tearful moments.
One in particular when Aislinn had showed her the embroidered nightgown Jeanne had given her for her wedding night, but which she’d never worn and would store away for Sorcha. Aye, it was only natural that she would grieve for her parents, but Aislinn felt her heart warmed now as she held out her hand and Sorcha readily took it.
“You look so lovely, Aislinn.”
“Ah, sweeting, no more than you,” she murmured, for indeed, Sorcha was a truly beautiful girl.
Her braided hair the color of sunlight, her eyes so blue and matching the color of her own silk tunic, her skin as fair as fresh cream, aye, she looked like a Norse princess… which made Aislinn think of what poor Jeanne had told her and Cameron about finding Sorcha as a wee babe. She and Cameron had decided quietly between themselves not to ask questions about what mayhap had no answers, Sorcha’s kinsmen, whoever they had been, most likely lost to the sea.
She was their daughter now, through and through, Aislinn drawing her into her arms to give her a big hug.
“Did you decide upon a name for your new rooster?”
“Aye, Speckles,” Sorcha said simply, Aislinn not surprised at her choice, for the young bird looked much like the one Sorcha had lost. “He’s nicer, though. The old Speckles used tae peck at me.”
Aislinn laughed, which made Sorcha laugh, too, as they walked together from the sumptuous bedchamber that Aislinn shared with Cameron.
She took a last glance over her shoulder at the huge four-poster bed that they had made good use of since returning to the fortress—and she wasn’t thinking of sleep.
A delicious shiver coursed through Aislinn as she thought of the impassioned lovemaking that filled their nights and their early mornings and whenever they could sneak away together during the day. Saints in heaven, a few weeks more and she would know for sure if Sorcha had a baby brother or sister due by next winter—aye, she couldn’t wait!
Aislinn fairly skipped down the tower steps with Sorcha, her heart felt so light. The boisterous merriment emanating from the great hall grew louder as they drew closer, Cameron’s rich laughter rising above the rest.
The sound thrilled her… the scowling warrior she’d first encountered who had been plagued with so distressing an affliction, now her beloved husband, cured by love.
She saw him seated at the head table just as Cameron saw her, too. He rose to stride toward them, looking magnificent in a dark gray tunic with a green and blue breacan—though Sorcha let go of Aislinn’s hand and skittered past him to where Daran sat next to Conall.
“The lass has eyes only for your brother,” Cameron said as he reached Aislinn, the admiring way his gaze swept over her making her heart skip a beat. “While I have eyes only for you, my beautiful wife…”
