She had not so much as taken a step when he was upon her, arms encircling her, hands in her hair, and his lips capturing her mouth. “I missed ye,” he said between kisses.
“And I ye,” she replied as his lips traced a shivery path down her neck to her collarbone. “Tell me of the hunt,” she urged, trying to silence the voice in her head that demanded she tell him of the earl.
He shrugged. “We killed a wild boar.” He looked at her. “I dunnae care to kill animals.”
“Truly?” she said, heartened to learn he had such compassion.
He nodded. “Aye, truly. But my father so shamed me for the weakness when I was younger that I forced myself to become an expert hunter. I dunnae mind killing near as much when it is for our food, but the sport of killing…” He shrugged again. “I dunnae have any desire for it. When I am laird of my clan someday, I will nae call for hunts for sport, only for need. Does that make ye think me weak?”
She pressed her body to the length of his and leaned her head against his chest. “I think ye perfect and strong.”
“Would ye wish to wed a perfect, strong man who dunnae care to hunt unless it is necessary?”
She looked up at him, her heart stuttering. “Are ye asking me to wed ye?” Her hopes and fears crashed within her.
“Aye,” he replied, his eyes growing dark as the ancient trees that surrounded them.
Happy tears welled in her eyes as joy, wonder, and love overtook her.
He pressed kisses to her nose, her forehead, and her lips. “I will need to travel home and speak with my parents first, but I kenned the moment I met ye that ye’re the women for me. What say ye?”
She wanted to say yes, but she still needed to tell him of the earl. “Ye dunnae really ken everything about me,” she said, her voice softly wavering.
“It’s true we have only kenned each other for fewer than two fortnights, but I have learned ye,” he said. “Ye dunnae like winter, but summer. Ye prefer the night to the day, as ye love gazing at stars. Ye kinnae swim, either, I think, aye?”
“Aye,” she said with a nod. “How did ye ken that?” She had thought she hid it well.
“I will tell ye.” He took her hand, led her to the grass, stripped off his plaid, and laid it down. He motioned for her to sit. She swallowed the knot of desire that formed in her throat at the sight of his bare chest. Once they were both sitting, he lay back, crossed his feet at his ankles, and cradled the back of his head in his hands. “Come,” he said in a most persuasive voice, “lie beside me and lean yer head on my shoulder.”
She did so, soaking in his heat and his nearness. She felt utterly protected when he was close, which was a foreign feeling for her. “How did ye ken I could nae swim?” she asked again.
“Simple,” he said. “Ye dunnae ever do more than dip yer toes in the water, and yer shoulders become tense as ye near the loch. Why is it that ye are afraid of the water?”
“My brothers,” she muttered. “They used to push me under the water when I was younger and hold me there. The one and only time I managed to swim for even a brief moment, they caught me and held me under so long that I almost drowned. I was too scairt to venture back in after that, so I did nae ever learn to truly swim.”
“Yer brothers deserve to be beaten,” he said with a scowl, but then he smiled. “I will teach ye to swim when we are wed.” His words held a powerful intensity of emotion.
Her heart clenched. She tilted her face up to his and felt something uneven brush against her cheek. Pushing herself up on her hands, she glanced down at his shoulder and found a short, jagged scar. “How did ye get this?” She traced the white line with the tip of her finger.
“From my first battle,” he replied, then caught her hand and tugged her back down to him.
As she snuggled against him, she said, “Tell me of it.”
“It was against the MacDonald clan. Their leader, the Lord of the Isles, has long attacked our clan ever since King David—or his advisors, really, since the king was but a lad at the time—gave Urquhart Castle to my father for services rendered.”
“The MacDonald wanted the castle?” she asked.
“Aye,” Callum said. “He wants to grow his power farther north, which includes our home. He’s been attacking us since I was but ten summers.”
“The king is crafty, aye?”
“Aye,” Callum agreed. “He kept the MacDonald from getting too powerful, but he also did nae oblige himself to aid us. When he was older, the king told my father that he had too many other battles to fight and that if my father lost the castle, he did nae deserve it.”
“Is this why yer father changed his allegiance to the Steward?”
“One of the reasons,” Callum replied.
Their conversation continued for hours, past the nooning meal and into the evening as the sky turned purple and blue. She learned that he had one brother and that Callum was not particularly close to his parents. She discovered that he was a great hawker, and he promised to teach her the art someday.
