moments,” he admitted with a laugh.
“Your mother and father must be proud.”
His smile faded along with his laughter. “My father has passed.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her hand gently resting on his arm, offering comfort.
Her warm flesh and tender touch tempted, but itwas her sincere empathy that caused his desire to soar…much too high. That she truly had a caring heart fired his passion beyond belief, and he wanted nothing more than to bury her in his embrace.
Instead he maintained control, though with great difficulty.
“You must miss your father,” she said.
“I do,” he admitted, realizing it had been the first time he had voiced it. “I truly do. He was a loving father, a great man and a wise laird.”
She patted his arm. “He must have been a loving father, for you spoke it before anything else.”
“You’re right.” He nodded slowly realizing how true it was. “My father always had time for me and my brothers, and especially my mother. They were inseparable.”
“Raised with such love, I’m surprised you don’t look for it yourself. Or perhaps you do and don’t know it.”
Her hand drifted away from him and he suddenly felt chilled, as if all warmth had gone with her. And oddly enough, he wondered if she could be right. In his endless quest of women, could he truly be searching for love?
She yawned and rubbed the back of her neck. “I should be able to sleep now.” She turned to him. “Thank you for the company and the conversation.”
“You are most welcome,” he said standing and reaching out his hand to help her up.
She hesitated briefly before accepting, and once she stood she walked away without saying another word.
It was just as well for in that brief moment when her hand rested in his, he was overwhelmed with the desire to kiss her.
The flames of hell are waiting for you, Lachlan Sinclare. You’re going to burn, burn, burn!
“Shut up!” he yelled at himself and stomped off, knowing that sleep would not come easily tonight.
Chapter 6
P iper woke Terese about an hour before sunrise. She knelt next to Terese’s bed and whispered, “There is something you must see.”
Rowena was already up busy making honey bread.
“Keep our absence secret from our guests as long as possible,” Terese instructed Rowena and with quick, silent steps followed Piper over the convent grounds and into the woods.
The sun was a bright, half orange ball on the horizon when they reached their destination, Terese knowing she had slowed Piper down. It amazed her how familiar the young woman was with every inch of the woods, and it was that way with any forest. Once in it, Piper was as comfortable with it as with an old, dear friend.
Piper dropped to the ground and carefully brushed leaves out of the way to reveal tracks. “There were two of them, one heavy-footed and one nimble. They’re scouting.”
A chill ran through Terese as she bent down alongside Piper to take a look. “Do you know who?”
“Look here,” Piper said, pointing to one hardy imprint in the ground. “This was made by a sandal. Mercenaries mostly wear boots.”
Terese frowned, leaning back on her haunches. “This confirms a fear I had. At first when Henry mentioned the mercenaries, I wondered if perhaps the gossip we perpetuated about our little group had grown out of hand. Then I wondered what if…What if it had nothing to do with us at all?”
“It doesn’t bode well,” Piper agreed, then added proudly, “but we are warriors. You have seen to that.”
Perhaps so, but Terese worried regardless.
“I would guess that the warring clans sent scouts to see if a surprise attack against the mercenaries was feasible,” Piper continued.
“And if they’re successful, they may just keep going, claiming everything in their path.”
“A very good chance that’s exactly what they’ll do,” Piper said.
“Is this as far as the scouts have gone?”
“They circle for the moment, concerned with
“Your mother and father must be proud.”
His smile faded along with his laughter. “My father has passed.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her hand gently resting on his arm, offering comfort.
Her warm flesh and tender touch tempted, but itwas her sincere empathy that caused his desire to soar…much too high. That she truly had a caring heart fired his passion beyond belief, and he wanted nothing more than to bury her in his embrace.
Instead he maintained control, though with great difficulty.
“You must miss your father,” she said.
“I do,” he admitted, realizing it had been the first time he had voiced it. “I truly do. He was a loving father, a great man and a wise laird.”
She patted his arm. “He must have been a loving father, for you spoke it before anything else.”
“You’re right.” He nodded slowly realizing how true it was. “My father always had time for me and my brothers, and especially my mother. They were inseparable.”
“Raised with such love, I’m surprised you don’t look for it yourself. Or perhaps you do and don’t know it.”
Her hand drifted away from him and he suddenly felt chilled, as if all warmth had gone with her. And oddly enough, he wondered if she could be right. In his endless quest of women, could he truly be searching for love?
She yawned and rubbed the back of her neck. “I should be able to sleep now.” She turned to him. “Thank you for the company and the conversation.”
“You are most welcome,” he said standing and reaching out his hand to help her up.
She hesitated briefly before accepting, and once she stood she walked away without saying another word.
It was just as well for in that brief moment when her hand rested in his, he was overwhelmed with the desire to kiss her.
The flames of hell are waiting for you, Lachlan Sinclare. You’re going to burn, burn, burn!
“Shut up!” he yelled at himself and stomped off, knowing that sleep would not come easily tonight.
Chapter 6
P iper woke Terese about an hour before sunrise. She knelt next to Terese’s bed and whispered, “There is something you must see.”
Rowena was already up busy making honey bread.
“Keep our absence secret from our guests as long as possible,” Terese instructed Rowena and with quick, silent steps followed Piper over the convent grounds and into the woods.
The sun was a bright, half orange ball on the horizon when they reached their destination, Terese knowing she had slowed Piper down. It amazed her how familiar the young woman was with every inch of the woods, and it was that way with any forest. Once in it, Piper was as comfortable with it as with an old, dear friend.
Piper dropped to the ground and carefully brushed leaves out of the way to reveal tracks. “There were two of them, one heavy-footed and one nimble. They’re scouting.”
A chill ran through Terese as she bent down alongside Piper to take a look. “Do you know who?”
“Look here,” Piper said, pointing to one hardy imprint in the ground. “This was made by a sandal. Mercenaries mostly wear boots.”
Terese frowned, leaning back on her haunches. “This confirms a fear I had. At first when Henry mentioned the mercenaries, I wondered if perhaps the gossip we perpetuated about our little group had grown out of hand. Then I wondered what if…What if it had nothing to do with us at all?”
“It doesn’t bode well,” Piper agreed, then added proudly, “but we are warriors. You have seen to that.”
Perhaps so, but Terese worried regardless.
“I would guess that the warring clans sent scouts to see if a surprise attack against the mercenaries was feasible,” Piper continued.
“And if they’re successful, they may just keep going, claiming everything in their path.”
“A very good chance that’s exactly what they’ll do,” Piper said.
“Is this as far as the scouts have gone?”
“They circle for the moment, concerned with
Similar Books
