Page 113 of Moon Craving

name during his first climax the night before. He could not risk revealing the true state of

their mating before he was ready. If that time ever came.

Abigail's first view of the Sinclair holding was more than a little imposing. Her

sister's letters had described a keep similar to their father's, with timber fence surrounding

the motte and bailey. Not so now. In the almost three years since her sister had first gone

north, that timber had been replaced with stone, and the Sinclair keep looked more like a

castle. A solid, impenetrable fortress, to be precise.

A wide moat surrounded the high stone wall. The water was dark, indicating a

depth that would prevent easy crossing.

Horse hooves clattered as their party went over the single access point, a narrow

bridge that led to the only opening she could see in the wall. Clanspeople had come out of

their cottages to welcome their laird home and followed the horses across the bridge.

They were joined by more men and women in the bailey.

Some called out, many cheered and children ran in games of tag around the men

mounted on their huge steeds. It was a much different picture than the one Emily had

painted of her first view of the Sinclair holding. Both warrior and warhorses showed their

superior training because the children were never in danger of being trampled.

Talorc maintained their forward movement, however, crossing the bailey to guide

his horse onto a path up the motte. Stone walls rose high on both sides, casting a shadow

over them all, those riding and on foot alike.

Abigail could not tell if the steep hill was man-made like her father's motte or a

happenstance of nature. The path beneath her horse's feet was composed of dirt and

moss-covered stones. It felt solid, indicating the hill had been created many years ago,

whether by God or man. No rainstorm would wash away its foundation as tragically

happened back in England on occasion.

Sybil had worried and lamented about such a thing happening since she had taken

her daughters to live in the Hamilton keep.

The gate at the top of the path was open and Talorc rode through, his bearing

proud and imposing. A contingent of warriors, every bit as ferocious looking as the ones

that had accompanied them north, waited in the courtyard. They stood in front of a single