Conscious of Mary’s concern that he stay out of her father’s sight as much as possible, he remained at the window, knowing she would come to him soon enough.He watched the bailey clearing of men and horses until he heard a soft knock at his door. “Come,” he called.
The door opened as he turned, and Mary slipped inside. “I’m back!” she announced toward the bed, then spotted him and gasped. “Ye are up and dressed.” She made her way to him and gently touched his face. “How do ye feel?”
He wrapped her in his arms and inhaled the sweet, alluring scent that was all Mary, even after a long ride. “I’m better now ye are here, Mary, my love. How are ye? What happened at Grant?”
“Sit,” she said, gesturing to the chair by the hearth, “and I’ll tell ye.” She took his place by the window as he settled into the chair, her arms crossed over her chest, tension in every line of her body.
She’d failed to react to his endearment. Cameron wanted to hold her, to ease whatever bothered her. But for the moment, he knew he could best help her by listening.
“My father has lost his mind,” Mary began.
Cameron quirked an eyebrow. This was interesting. “Truly? What has he done now?”
Mary shook her head and started pacing. “He betrothed himself to Mhairi Grant’sdaughter, a lass Catherine’s age.”
Cameron fought back a chuckle that would incense Mary and nodded. The reason was obvious. “So he has decided to try for a male heir.”
“So it appears. He and her mother were thick as thieves. I believed he planned to offer for Lady Grant. But nay. She is regent for her son. I suppose she could no’ abandon that responsibility, no’ if she meant to keepGrant power in her husband’s line, and her son looks to be only about twelve. Once I realized that, I expected to meet a cousin of hers, or a sister, but nay. They made the announcement just before we left. Poor Seona was shaking like a leaf.” Mary quirked a corner of her mouth into an ironic semblance of a smile. “I dinna think the lass is eager for the match.”
“Or the marriage bed, I’ll wager,” Cameron muttered. When Mary’s hand flew to her mouth, he added, “Sorry. I didna mean to make ye think of that.”
“Ye jest.” She clenched a fist over her belly. “’Tis nearly all I’ve been thinking about. I’ve barely eaten a thing since the announcement. The idea turns my stomach.”
“Yer da is no’ so old.”
“He’s too old for her.”
“Apparently no’, or her mother wouldna agree to give her daughter to him.”
“Her mother is up to something. ’Tis no’ the first time—or the last—that a daughter has been used as a pawn for her laird’s purposes. I dinna yet ken what she has in mind, but I suspect we will find out eventually.”
“Is that all that has yefashed?”
“All? Is that no’ enough?” She sighed and moved away from the window. She paced for a moment, then perched on the edge of his bed.
Seeing her there, Cameron sucked in a breath as images of what he would like to do with her flooded his mind. He clenched his fists, then forced them open. Now was not the time for such thoughts.
“Da was insufferable on the way home,” Mary continued, her gaze on the window and apparentlyunaware of his reaction. “Full of himself and of ideas for things I must do to ready Rose for the wedding.”
“He means to hold the wedding here?”
She dropped her head in her hands. “In less than a fortnight. I have little more than a week to arrange everything.”
Cameron leaned forward, wanting to reach out and stroke her silky golden hair. “What can I do?”
She lifted her head and met his gaze. “Do? Nay, Cameron. Ye are a guest here, as much as the Grants will be and ye have been ill. I will no’ put ye to work…”
Cameron stood and took her hand. Then he pulled her to her feet and wrapped her in his arms. “I can do this much, aye? To comfort ye when ye need it, as ye have cared for and comforted me. I owe ye that much and more.”
She tilted her head back and studied his face while he traced lazy circles on her back with one hand. He could feel the tension leaving her body, and knew she capitulated when her arms went around his waist and she lay her head on his shoulder.
“Then ye’ll be busy all the time,” she told him.
“I canna imagine a worse fate,” he teased and chuckled, resting his chin on the top of her head. When she didn’t respond, he tilted his head to study her face. Her eyes were closed, her lashes damp. “Ach, lass, all will be well.”
She gave her head a little shake against his shoulder, but kept her eyes closed. “’Twill no’. I must train my new step-mother in her duties—to take over my duties as chatelaine. If she’s truly as lamb-headed as she seemed to be at Grant, I’ll never be free.”
“Lamb-headed?” His incredulous tone earned achuckle, making Cameron’s heart lift a bit, despite her obvious distress.
