Page 20 of Highlander’s Dangerous Love

6

It had been far too long since Gemma had heard from Colin. Really, it had been only a few days, but to go from cheeky looks in the corridor and meeting on the beach at night to absolutely nothing was worrisome.

“Where are yer thoughts this morn?” Muriel asked.

Gemma and Muriel were sitting in the drawing room at the Gordons’ home, tending to their duties. The sheep had been shorn earlier in the spring, but they were still not finished with turning their spoils into thread and fabric for clothing and other household textiles. Muriel was at the spinning wheel, turning the freshly carded wool into nice, workable spools, while Gemma sat at the loom weaving.

“I’m sorry, I dinnae mean tae ignore ye,” Gemma said brightly.

“That’s no answer,” Muriel teased lightly.

“I…” she feigned a cough. “I must be catching ill. ‘Tis the season for summer colds, after all,” she said weakly.

Muriel hummed in acknowledgement, clearly not believing Gemma for a second, but at least she didn’t press her any further. She really had been distracted for the past couple days. That morning alone, she’d had to restart several times on the loom because she wasn’t paying attention and the stitches were too loose. Usually, she was quite skilled at such handicrafts, so to mess up so often was abnormal. It was a good thing her mother was otherwise occupied with candle making outside, for she would certainly scold her daughter for her sloppiness.

“How about ye go take a walk in the fresh air? I’ll keep yer mother occupied,” Muriel offered.

“Thank ye, Muriel. Clearly my mind is far too muddled for this loom,” Gemma said gratefully, rising from her stool and making her way across the room. Just before she was out the door, Muriel called to her once again.

“If ye ever need tae speak tae someone about what’s happenin’ in that head o’ yers, ye ken I’m here. I willnae judge ye,” her maid and friend said softly.

Gemma nodded, a halfhearted smile on her face, and left. Her brothers were all out tending to their trades, and Mrs. Gordon was making a fuss about the candles that she and the cook were making. Their backs were turned as Gemma came out of the house, so she was able to sneak away without being seen.

When she was a good distance away from the house, she let her hair loose from its cap and pins, then broke into a run. It felt so wonderful to have the wind ripple through her dark locks and kiss her skin the way it did, so gentle and unobtrusive. Out there on the cliffs by the sea, she felt free. After running for some time, she became short of breath, so she plopped herself down in a little patch of heather and looked out over the cliffs at the sea. It was a clear day — no clouds, bright, shining sun, and glimmering blue-green waters. No ships dotted the horizon. Not that she expected any, but the sight of a ship would mean the return of her father, which then meant that she was one step closer to further sealing her betrothal to Colin.

She had never been lad-crazy like Violet or some of the other young ladies at the castle. It wasn’t that she didn’t think other lads handsome; certainly she did, she was not blind. But for the longest time, she had felt a particular connection to Colin. Even as children, she sought out his company instead.

Her wishes and musings were granted soon enough, for in the distance, a lone figure caught her eye. The meadows near the cliffs were not remote, but they were not really on the way to anything either, so she wondered who it could be. As the figure came closer, she realized it was Colin, and that he was very deep in thought, as his brow was furrowed and his jaw was clenched.

“Colin!” she cried, jumping up to greet him.

Almost immediately, that tense, thoughtful look melted away, and was replaced with a kind smile.

“Gemma!”

His voice was gentle and warm, but she detected something in it that unsettled her. She could not put her finger on it, but smiled and embraced him nonetheless. Even his touch felt a little more tentative than usual.

“Colin, what’s the matter? Ye seem…different,” she observed. “And a wee bit out of sorts. I havenae heard from ye in days.”

She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he gulped nervously.

“I…Gemma,” he said, his voice breaking a little.

“Colin…what is wrong? Yer makin’ me nervous,” she said, holding onto his strong arms.

“Gemma, we need tae talk. ‘Tis quite serious.”

All manner of scenarios ran through her mind, none of them good.

“Gemma, I…I am leaving,” he said weakly.

She blinked rapidly in disbelief.

“Leaving? What d’ye mean?”

“I mean…I’m leaving the clan. My father an’ I.”

Gemma would have rather dropped a large rock on her toe than hear Colin say those words and mean them.