gather, lass," he said in his
soft burr. "So I gather."
An arm about her shoulders, he led her toward a patch of soft, mossy ground.
Jamie sat, then gently urged her down with a tug on her hand.
"I heard the news that Margaret is to be wed to the MacGregor."
Sabrina nodded. "The wedding is planned for tomorrow."
"Good! Then I can ask your father for your hand—" He broke off when he saw
her expression. "What is it, love? Our turn will come next, I promise."
Sabrina's gaze had turned cloudy. "Papa may be difficult," she said
quietly.
His smile of encouragement vanished. "Because I am a MacDougall," he said
flatly.
Never in her life had Sabrina felt so helpless. "Because your family supports
the Comyns."
Jamie scowled. "I do not seek to marry him. I seek to marry his
daughter."
Sabrina laid a hand on his arm. “We will find a way, for I swear, I will not
let Papa keep us apart—" She broke off at the expression of guilt that
flitted across his ruddy features.
Panic, swift and merciless as an arrow to the heart, swept through her.
"What?" she cried softly. "What is it?"
He clasped both her hands in his much larger ones. The sudden agony she felt
was mirrored on his face.
"You know how much I long to make you my bride, Sabrina." His voice was
hoarse with all he felt.
Wordlessly she nodded. Her eyes clung to his.
"And you do not doubt that I love you."
She did not. But there was something wrong. She searched his features but
could find no answer there. "But what?" she said faintly.
He hesitated. "But we may have to wait a wee bit longer than we hoped. For
there is not just the matter of your father's consent "
"We could run away. To a place where we are not known—"
His voice cut across hers. "I cannot."
Sabrina went very still. "Why not?" she whispered.
There was an endless silence before he spoke. "It’s said the Bruce will soon
return."
An eerie prickling trickled up her spine. Alasdair had predicted the very
same the night he and Ian had arrived. Should she tell Jamie? She hesitated,
feeling as if she were caught fast in a spider's web with no way to free
herself.
"But that has naught to do with us—"
"I cannot abandon my family. My cause. The Bruce cannot remain king. I pray
that you will forgive me, but… I must leave soon."
Though her heart wrenched, she understood. Oh, there was a part of her that
wished she could rage and scream and cry that she might keep him at her side…
but this was a matter of honor and loyalty.
A matter of duty.
"How soon?" she whispered.
"Two days. I know I should have told you earlier, but I awaited word from my
uncle in the Highlands." He hesitated. "Tell me you do not hate me, Sabrina.
Promise me you will wait."
Her heart turned over. He was so brave. So torn. Very gently she cradled his
face between her palms and gazed into eyes as blue as the bonny sky.
"I will wait," she said softly.
His eyes darkened. "Then let me hold you just once more… let me kiss you that
I might remember the sweet taste of your lips, that you might be with me
evermore…"
With a groan he crushed her against him. Her arms slid up and twined around
his neck. She clung to him shamelessly, cherishing the moment, not quite
understanding the fierceness of his kiss, but wanting to give him all he sought
and more.
The weight of his chest pressed her to the ground. His mouth on hers was hot
and potent. One hand slid upward from her waist to just beneath her breast. His
thumb raked brazenly across the tip of her breast. Sabrina's heart slammed
against her ribs, for this was play in which she had no experience.
She felt his fingers in her hair, loosening her braid.
"Please, love." His words were a hoarse mutter against her lips. "Do not say
me nay."
What her answer would have been, she would never know. At precisely that
instant, her eyes flicked open; they widened in sheer horror.
For once again, it seemed, she was not alone…rather, they were not
soft burr. "So I gather."
An arm about her shoulders, he led her toward a patch of soft, mossy ground.
Jamie sat, then gently urged her down with a tug on her hand.
"I heard the news that Margaret is to be wed to the MacGregor."
Sabrina nodded. "The wedding is planned for tomorrow."
"Good! Then I can ask your father for your hand—" He broke off when he saw
her expression. "What is it, love? Our turn will come next, I promise."
Sabrina's gaze had turned cloudy. "Papa may be difficult," she said
quietly.
His smile of encouragement vanished. "Because I am a MacDougall," he said
flatly.
Never in her life had Sabrina felt so helpless. "Because your family supports
the Comyns."
Jamie scowled. "I do not seek to marry him. I seek to marry his
daughter."
Sabrina laid a hand on his arm. “We will find a way, for I swear, I will not
let Papa keep us apart—" She broke off at the expression of guilt that
flitted across his ruddy features.
Panic, swift and merciless as an arrow to the heart, swept through her.
"What?" she cried softly. "What is it?"
He clasped both her hands in his much larger ones. The sudden agony she felt
was mirrored on his face.
"You know how much I long to make you my bride, Sabrina." His voice was
hoarse with all he felt.
Wordlessly she nodded. Her eyes clung to his.
"And you do not doubt that I love you."
She did not. But there was something wrong. She searched his features but
could find no answer there. "But what?" she said faintly.
He hesitated. "But we may have to wait a wee bit longer than we hoped. For
there is not just the matter of your father's consent "
"We could run away. To a place where we are not known—"
His voice cut across hers. "I cannot."
Sabrina went very still. "Why not?" she whispered.
There was an endless silence before he spoke. "It’s said the Bruce will soon
return."
An eerie prickling trickled up her spine. Alasdair had predicted the very
same the night he and Ian had arrived. Should she tell Jamie? She hesitated,
feeling as if she were caught fast in a spider's web with no way to free
herself.
"But that has naught to do with us—"
"I cannot abandon my family. My cause. The Bruce cannot remain king. I pray
that you will forgive me, but… I must leave soon."
Though her heart wrenched, she understood. Oh, there was a part of her that
wished she could rage and scream and cry that she might keep him at her side…
but this was a matter of honor and loyalty.
A matter of duty.
"How soon?" she whispered.
"Two days. I know I should have told you earlier, but I awaited word from my
uncle in the Highlands." He hesitated. "Tell me you do not hate me, Sabrina.
Promise me you will wait."
Her heart turned over. He was so brave. So torn. Very gently she cradled his
face between her palms and gazed into eyes as blue as the bonny sky.
"I will wait," she said softly.
His eyes darkened. "Then let me hold you just once more… let me kiss you that
I might remember the sweet taste of your lips, that you might be with me
evermore…"
With a groan he crushed her against him. Her arms slid up and twined around
his neck. She clung to him shamelessly, cherishing the moment, not quite
understanding the fierceness of his kiss, but wanting to give him all he sought
and more.
The weight of his chest pressed her to the ground. His mouth on hers was hot
and potent. One hand slid upward from her waist to just beneath her breast. His
thumb raked brazenly across the tip of her breast. Sabrina's heart slammed
against her ribs, for this was play in which she had no experience.
She felt his fingers in her hair, loosening her braid.
"Please, love." His words were a hoarse mutter against her lips. "Do not say
me nay."
What her answer would have been, she would never know. At precisely that
instant, her eyes flicked open; they widened in sheer horror.
For once again, it seemed, she was not alone…rather, they were not
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