Chapter 11

A s Kate came down the steps, Gavin blinked, and then a slow smile lit his face. "You look beautiful, Kate. Is all this splendor in my and Jeanie's honor?"

"Of course." She quickly glanced away from him as she touched the crimson velvet of her skirt. "Jean said I must dress as befitted her wedding, and would not be satisfied with anything but this gaudy color. She says it suits me."

"Ah, Jeanie is the clever one. I should have known. She's right, as usual. It's a fine bold hue for a fine bold lass."

"You look very fine yourself." He looked more than fine, Kate thought affectionately. An amethyst-bejeweled silver thistle embellished the wide MacDarren sash that crossed his chest and half hid the sparkling white of his linen shirt. His jauntily plumed hat sat slightly askew on his red hair, giving him an air of rakish insouciance that was at odds with the eagerness he was trying to hide. Dear God, he was scarcely more than a boy, not even able to see through the mask worn by the woman he loved. How was he to evade the evil that would follow him when he left here? Trying to hide her fear with a mock frown, she let her gaze wander to his bare knees exposed by his green, purple, and dark blue kilt. "But will you not get cold in that skirt?"

He flinched. "Kilt. Women wear skirts, men wear kilts. How many times must I tell you that—" He stopped as he saw her smile. "Och, you were teasing me."

"A wee bit."

"Well, I could wear nothing else on such an occasion. It would not be fitting."

"It will be less fitting to freeze your nether parts on your wedding night," she said teasingly.

"You need not worry, my blood is running too hot to even feel the chill tonight." He looked beyond her up the stairs. "Where's Jeanie?"

"Getting dressed." She grabbed his arm as he started up the steps. "And you'll see her at the church and not before."

"I couldn't run up and show her how grand I look?" he coaxed.

"No, but you can come to the cellar and choose the wine to serve at your wedding feast. We've set up tables on the glen in back of the castle with food fit for a king, but I've had little experience in selecting wine. You must help me."

"Oh, very well." He moved grudgingly away from the stairs and followed her down the hall, through the scullery to the door leading to the storage cellar. "But not wine. Ale. Heather ale."

"Wine." She lit the candle on the table beside the door before preceding him down the winding steps. "This is a very special occasion."

"Which is why we should have the ale." He went past several rows of wine and paused before a large box filled with pottery jars. "Ah, here we have it. These bottles of ale were prepared last year. The spirits should be more heady than the strongest wine."

"But I don't think—" She gave in when she saw his pleading expression. "Oh, very well. It's your wedding."

A brilliant smile lit his face. "Aye, that it is."

She felt a surge of affection mixed with apprehension as she looked at him. He was bursting, exploding with happiness, giddy and daft as a baby bird just out of the nest. She wanted to reach out, protect him, plead with him to take the safest route.

He lifted his brows. "You're looking at me as if I were a corpse, not a bridegroom. What's wrong, Kate?"

"Nothing." She forced a smile. "I just want everything to go well for you."

"It will go well." He stooped to pick up a few bottles of ale. "How could it not? I have Jeanie."

The woman whose depths he had not even fathomed yet. "I…believe Jean loves you very much, but she is…" She trailed off as she realized she could not betray the girl. He was so besotted, he probably would not believe her anyway. She asked brusquely, "Are you going to carry this box upstairs, or should I call a servant?"

He continued to study the bottles. "Do you know, heather ale isn't what it seems. On the surface it's smooth as silk, but underneath there's strength and a bite." He lifted his gaze to her face. "I love the one as much as the other."

She stiffened as she searched his expression. He was not speaking of ale, and he was not the naive boy she had believed him to be.

"I'm not a fool, Kate," he said gently. "Do you think I could love a woman as much as I do Jeanie and not know her true nature? She's had a hard life, but someday she will trust in me enough to let me have all of her." He stooped and picked up two jars of the ale. "I'll take these with me. Robert is at Jock's lodgings, and maybe if I can get him drunk enough, I can persuade him to show up at the church for the wedding."

"Do you think there's a possibility he won't?"

He shrugged. "He was angry. Robert doesn't forgive lightly. We'll have to see." He moved his shoulders as if shrugging off a burden and turned and moved toward the steps. "Come along. We'll send a servant for the rest of these bottles. It's almost sundown." His soberness had vanished, and he almost bounced up the steps. "Did I tell you about the bagpipes?"

"Bagpipes?" She hurried after him, alarmed. "No bagpipes, Gavin."

"Jeanie told me you'd made no arrangements, so I took care of it myself. I know it's not customary at weddings, but this isn't your usual wedding. They have a fine stirring skirl, and I want to hear it when I see my Jeanie coming toward me."

"What about the lute?" she asked frantically. "The lute has a lovely romantic sound to it. Just right for a wedding."

Gavin shook his head. "The bagpipes." He frowned. "I just wish I could pipe her to the church myself. But I'm so excited, I fear I could not do her justice, so I've asked Tim MacDougal to do the honors."

She had not even known Robert's agent could play the bagpipes. She had a sudden picture of the small gray-haired man with his pursed, tight mouth and the permanent crease between his eyes, the furthest anyone could envision from a musician. She had worked so hard to make this wedding beautiful, and now it was going to be a disaster. "Will you not reconsider?"

"You'll see, it will be splendid." Gavin beamed. "Tim is almost as good a piper as I am."

Robert turned with a frown as Jock opened the door of his lodgings. "Ian was just here. Did you know that there was a message from Bobby MacGrath from Edinburgh while we were gone?"

Jock shook his head and threw off his cloak. "What did he have to say?"

"Not enough. Alec is still at court. When he first arrived, he spent two days in the royal dungeons."

"Occupied with his favorite sport, no doubt. Do we know who was the subject of his attention this time?"

Robert shook his head. "James is being very secretive. The guards were sent away, and Bobby hasn't been able to find out who the woman was. He says he'll continue to try."

"Woman?"

"That's all Bobby knows. It was a woman whose body was taken from the prison after two days of torture."

"Pleasant."

"Bobby said he'll keep an eye on him while he's in Edinburgh, but Alec appears to be doing nothing at present but acting as James's dear companion."

"I can't see any connection in this to our affairs."

"Neither can I." Robert shrugged. "But Alec has surprised us before." He threw himself in a chair and reached for the goblet of wine he had poured before Jock had entered. "I want you to go back to Ireland tomorrow."

Jock nodded. "I thought you might. Gavin?"

"Find a haven for him." He leaned back wearily. "If there is such a place."

"I'll do my best. It may not be enough."

"I know." He sipped his wine. "What a fool he is."

"He's not alone," Jock said. "I'm not at all sure I should leave you and go off to Ireland."

Robert said coldly, "I don't want to hear it, Jock."

"But it would not be my duty to leave it unsaid," he said mockingly. "I should stay and protect you from the harm looming on the horizon. By the way, I just returned from visiting your enchanting countess."

He stiffened. "Why?"

"You see how protectively you bristle? Very dangerous."

"Why?"

"I only delivered the gift you brought her from Ireland," he said innocently. "What else would I be doing? And we both know she doesn't need your protection. As we saw this afternoon, your lady-wife has managed to inveigle her way into the hearts of everyone on Craighdhu while we've been gone."

"There's nothing wrong with that."

"I'm sure that's what some people said of her mother's winsome ways."

"Kate's not like her mother."

"No, she burns much brighter."

A faint smile tugged at Robert's lips as he remembered how Kate had burned down Sebastian's cottage. "More than you know." He looked down into the depths of his wine. "She's hungry. All of her life she's been starved, and now she wants to taste everything around her. How can you blame her?"

"I can blame her." Jock paused. "If she gobbles up Craighdhu."

"I won't let her do that."

"Or you."

Robert was silent. It was not Kate's fault, but he felt as if he were being devoured by his emotional obsession.

"I notice you're not answering," Jock said. "Could it be because it's—"

"Robert!" It was Gavin, and he was pounding on the door. "Jock! Open the door. I have two bottles of the best ale in all of Scotland."

The wail of the bagpipes sang wild and sweet, triumphant yet melancholy, as it soared over the courtyard.

Kate stood on the stone steps staring in amazement while Tim MacDougal slowly circled the courtyard wringing such melodies as Kate had never imagined possible from the dreaded instrument. The last rays of the setting sun bathed the scene in shadow and light, rose and darkness.

She swallowed to ease the tightness from her throat and watched Jean take her place beneath the canopy of MacDarren's plaid carried by four kilted clansmen. She looked more like a fairy-tale princess than ever in her gown of ivory-colored brocade. Her long silver-blonde hair flowed free to her waist as was the custom, her only hair ornament a wreath of spring flowers. Thirty clansmen in traditional kilts and carrying burning torches formed a guard on either side of the canopy.

"Kate, come on," Jean called impatiently, an eager smile illuminating her delicate features. "Would you have me late for my wedding?"

"No, of course not." Kate hurried down to take her place behind the canopy as the procession began to file from the courtyard over the drawbridge. Ahead of her the streets were lined with townspeople, and in the distance the bell of the church began to sound, blending with the wild, splendid fanfare of the pipes.

She could see the mist-shrouded mountains in the distance, their reflection mirrored in scarlet in the sea.

Beauty. Craighdhu. Home.

It was all too much. She was overflowing with exultation, never having known a moment like this. She was no longer even concerned that Robert might not be at the church. He had to be there. God was not always fair, but He had created both Eden and Craighdhu and would not let a time of this perfection be marred.

As they approached the church, Gavin hurried down the church steps, his face alight with a radiance equal to Jean's. In their way they were as beautiful as Craighdhu.

Her Craighdhu.

She saw Robert on the top step of the church, dressed in leather vest and MacDarren kilt, his black hair shining in the dwindling sunlight.

He was hers too, she thought fiercely. There was no one in this world who could love him as much or give him more. What had she been thinking to meekly give in when they told her she could not have the two things she most wanted in the world?

She would not surrender either of them.

"My God," Robert murmured.

Kate was dressed in a crimson velvet gown with elegant wide skirts and long, full sleeves that were fashionably cut to reveal the gold chemise beneath it. A pleated gold-embroidered half-ruff framed her face but left her throat and upper breasts bare. The triangular crimson cap on her head was trimmed in glittering gold and vaguely reminded Robert of a coronet. The rosy light played on her, caressing the silky textures of her loose brown-gold hair, the smoothness of her breasts. Her color was high, her step proud and bold. Robert had never seen her look more beautiful…or more compelling.

"Christ, she looks…" Robert trailed off.

"Like a call to arms," Jock said dryly, his gaze on Kate. "And as reckless as her mother was reputed to be. I suspected as much."

She was staring challengingly at Robert. He was hardening, the blood rushing to that part of him that always responded to her nearness. If that was all in him that responded, he would be much safer.

Gavin and Jean entered the church where the dominie waited.

Kate started up the steps, her gaze holding Robert's.

She was as regal as a queen, as alluring as Circe, as defiant as a warrior going into battle. Yet he could see in her the hint of childlike uncertainty that had always moved him.

She stopped before him and slowly held out her hand.

She was asking for more than an escort into the church.

"Robert," Jock murmured warningly.

He needed no cautioning. He had been aware this moment of decision would come since she had told him she was not with child. He knew the consequences better than Jock and Kate. If he let her come near again, it would be with full knowledge of the pitfalls, the only question being whether the obsession that possessed him was worth the risk of losing all he held dear.

He looked down at the hand she was extending to him, so small yet strong and capable.

It was trembling.

He stepped forward and closed his hand possessively over Kate's. "My lady."

He led her into the church.

Torches flared brightly over the green, glittering on the four swords laid on the grass, and the dancers moving with stylish grace to the strains of the bagpipes.

Kate watched them in fascination as she stood beside Deirdre, handing out cups of ale at the long trestle table. Dancing and music and laughter: All the things that Sebastian had said would never be hers were here on this green tonight.

"Why do you not try it yourself?" Deirdre asked. "I can see you're yearning to. They'll be starting a reel as soon as the sword dance is through."

"I don't know how to dance."

"You'll learn soon enough. It's simple enough."

Kate was tempted as she glanced at the long tables laden with all manner of festive food. Leg of mutton with gallandine sauce, boiled capon, salmon, shrimp, sausages, quince pie, tart of almonds, and huge slices of gingerbread dripping with almond butter were fast disappearing as the evening progressed, and Deirdre and the other servants could certainly preside over their distribution.

No, this feast was her responsibility, her first social duty as the countess of Craighdhu, and she wouldn't shirk it to run and play. "I'll stay. There will be other feasts."

"Perhaps not such a fine one as this," Deirdre said. "You did well."

Kate flushed at the praise that always came sparingly from Deirdre. "I thank you for your help."

"I would have given it sooner if you'd—"

"It's time for us to go." Gavin was suddenly beside her. "The lads are getting a bit rowdy. Will you go get Jeanie for me?" He indicated his bride, who was at the center of a group of women at the far side of the glen. "They might embarrass her with their rude remarks if I'm the one to take her away."

She doubted if Jean would be as discomposed as Gavin thought, but it was sweet of him to be so sensitive to his bride's feelings. She nodded as she set the bottle of ale she was holding on the table. "Of course. I'll help her slip away and send her to you at the castle."

He shook his head. "We must first go beneath the swords…I hope." He hesitated and then asked, "I have another boon to ask. Will you ask Robert to do the honor of the sword? I…Tell him I'll understand if he chooses otherwise."

She looked at him in puzzlement. "He was at the church. Why is this different?"

"Because his presence there only indicated the laird's approval of the match. The walk beneath the swords is much more."

"In what way?"

"Acceptance of Jeanie into the clan, a promise of protection for her should I not be around to give my own. That and many other things. Will you ask him?"

She did not want to ask Robert anything that would disturb the bond between them that had been forged when he had taken her hand and led her into the church. Though they had parted when they had reached the green for the wedding feast, the excitement and anticipation lingered, charging every action, every moment of the evening. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

"Please, Kate. I need this."

She would not be able to grant him many favors in the future. Gavin and Jeanie were going away tomorrow into exile, and Heaven knows what dangers they would face. She sighed. "I'll ask him."

She went first to Jeanie and whispered Gavin's summons in her ear, then strolled slowly across the green toward the place where Robert, Jock, and several more men were playing ball. She stood on the sidelines with the spectators while the men dodged and grappled for the big ball. Robert, like the others, was naked to the waist, his chest and arms gleaming with sweat in the torchlight. As she watched, he fell to his knees, diving for the ball, his kilt flying up to reveal hard, muscular buttocks. His head lifted, and he was laughing, dark eyes glittering, black hair tousled. He was completely sensual, absolutely male.

Robert glanced up and saw her, his laughter fading as he read her expression. He stood up, tossed the ball to the young man next to him, and started toward her.

She knew the same mixture of triumph and joy she had felt when he had taken her hand and led her into the church. She did possess power over him. She could draw him to her side with only a look. She could move him, stir him, even if it was only to desire.

He smelled of salt, leather, and ale, and when he drew closer, the warmth of his body was like a blast of heat from a campfire. Her breath was coming quicker, and her palms tingled with the urge to touch the springy triangle of dark hair on his chest.

"Yes?" he asked quietly.

"Gavin…They're ready to go." She met his gaze. "He sent me to ask you to do the honor of the swords."

He stiffened, and his expression became shuttered. "Oh did he, indeed?'

"It's not for himself. He wants Jean protected. He wants her to have a home if something happens to him."

"Sanctuary," he said grimly.

"They're leaving tomorrow for Ireland. He has no intention of endangering Craighdhu. It's not asking much to give him peace of mind."

"It's asking a great deal. They're wed before God, and that tie means forever. If Jean is taken into the clan, she's one of mine."

"Then you won't do it?"

He met her pleading gaze, and then a reckless smile lit his face. "Oh, what the hell. It would probably come to the same thing anyway. I doubt I could refuse her if she came to me in need." He turned and called to Jock across the green. "The swords!"

An uproar greeted the words. The ball game was forgotten as men ran to the sidelines to don shirts and scabbards.

Robert turned and picked up his own shirt from the ground. "Make ready to leave."

"Leave? But Gavin says the celebration goes on until dawn."

"It does." He shrugged into the shirt. "And we will. But not here. I have another celebration in mind."

She felt her chest constrict, and she suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

His lips twisted. "Why do you think Gavin sent you to plead his case? He knew there was a chance lust would cloud my judgment. Every man in Craighdhu can tell just by looking at me that I can hardly wait to bed my wife." He met her gaze. "And so can you. This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

She felt the same triumphant exhilaration she had before. "Yes, that's exactly what I wanted."

He picked up his scabbard. "Then make ready to leave. I'll tell Tim MacDougal to start the skirl."

The men of the clan stood facing each other in a double row that stretched across the glen, with Robert and Jock forming the first duo. The wail of the bagpipes rang out as Gavin and Jean stepped forward.

"Robert, I know you don't wish to do this," Gavin said in a low voice. "I would not ask it if it wasn't—"

"Present swords," Robert called out, interrupting him.

Scabbards hissed and swords gleamed beneath the torches as the arch was formed.

"Thank you, Robert." Gavin grabbed Jean's hand. "Come on, love."

Kate watched them walk down the arch of swords. Jean was now one of them. Embraced, held tight within the arms of the clan.

"Kate."

She turned to see Robert holding out his hand to her.

She stared at him in shock.

"By God, no!" Jock said as he lowered his sword.

"Kate," Robert said again.

She moved slowly to stand beside him. The protection of the clan, a victory she had not even sought. She was now Robert's responsibility in every sense, officially part of the world that was so precious to him. She belonged, even though it might only be for the next year.

Unless there was a child.

She gripped his hand with eager strength.

"Are you mad?" Jock muttered.

"It's a night for madness," Robert said recklessly. He pulled Kate under the arch of the swords and began to run down the gauntlet. He was laughing, and she found herself laughing too.

She could hear the bagpipes playing, and their song was for her.

The wind touched her cheeks. It was blowing for her, bringing her the scents of mist and earth that were Craighdhu.

She could see the clansmen laughing approvingly. The approval was for her; she had worked and won it in these last weeks and would hold it forever.

She was part of Craighdhu, part of all of them.

And, most of all, part of Black Robert of Craighdhu.

Robert slammed shut the door of her chamber and unbuckled his sword. "Undress."

Her hands went around to unbutton the back of her gown and then stopped. No, she could not do it. If she used her wiles to lure Robert in the way she wished him to go, she would be the harlot Sebastian had called her. "There's something I should tell you first."

"Not now." He tossed his scabbard on the chair by the door.

"Now." She squared her shoulders and then gestured to the gown she wore. "I'm seducing you."

"Good."

"No, I deliberately set out to do it. I gowned myself and made myself smell sweet.… I wanted you to want me."

"Then you'll be glad to know you succeeded."

"I am glad, but I can't—I'm not like Jean. It's not easy for me to lie to you, even in a good cause." She added fiercely, "And it is in a good cause."

" Your cause?"

"Yes, but it will do no one harm to give me my way in this."

He shrugged out of his shirt. "My dear Kate, I'm fully prepared to let you have your way with me, but I'll not lie to myself. It may do great harm."

"Then why do you do it?"

"As Gavin said, some things are meant to be." He added simply, "I have to have you."

The raw need in his voice stunned her. "For how long?"

"Until the madness passes."

"But I don't intend for it to pass." She paused and then said baldly, "I mean to get with child."

"I know." He came toward her wearing only the kilt. "I knew the instant I saw you at the church. If that happens, there is a remedy, but I hope to God I don't have to take it."

"Remedy? What remedy?"

"For God's sake, will you take off your clothes!" His every muscle was tensed, his eyes glittering, nostrils flaring. She could almost feel the waves of desire he was emitting.

Why was she standing here arguing with him? This was what she wanted. He was hers . She quickly slipped out of the velvet gown and gold chemise, but there were still the corset and panniers and—It was too much. She turned her back to him. "I'll never get out of all this. Jean took hours fastening me into it. Help me."

"Gladly," he muttered.

She heard the snapping of the cords and looked over her shoulder at him. He stood there with a dirk in his hand, and as she watched he slashed through the last of the corset strings. Seconds later the rest of the undergarments fell in strips around her.

"I don't remember you wearing all this in the cave. Why the hell bother now?"

"I told you, to seduce you." She bit her lower lip as he threw away the dirk, and his hands slid around to cover her breasts. They instantly swelled, the nipples hardening in response. So long. It seemed a lifetime since he had touched her. "I thought only of what you said about textures, but…" His warm tongue plunged into her, and a hot shudder went through her. "Jean said I needed this too."

"I don't remember saying anything about textures. But that's not surprising. I wonder I can think at all." His hands left her breasts, and he made a quick adjustment before he brought her back against him. A shock ran though her as she realized he had pushed up the kilt, and she could feel his arousal against her bare buttocks. His hands moved around to stroke her abdomen as he slowly rotated his hips, rubbing against her in that most sensual of caresses.

"You said you…liked…the feel—" She paused as his fingers brushed against the tight curls and then went exploring farther down. "Of leather…and silk…and—" Her neck arched back against his shoulder as he found the nub for which he had been searching.

"This is the only texture I have any interest in at the moment." His thumb pressed and released, pressed and released, as he continued the circular rhythm against her buttocks. "This softness…" His breath came harsh and quick in her ear. "I thought of this all the time I was in Ireland. How you felt…those frantic little sounds you make when I come into you."

She was already making those sounds deep in her throat as sensation after sensation tore through her.

"Yes, that's it, give it to me." He pulled her down to her knees on the floor. She tried to turn around, but he gently pushed her forward on her hands and knees. "No, this way."

He came into her with one deep plunge. Substance, hardness, fullness. She cried out and sank forward, her breasts resting on the carpet.

He began moving in and out of her, deeply, frantically. His hands were on her buttocks, kneading, caressing. Her breasts lightly grazed the carpet with every stroke, and she found her nipples becoming harder and more sensitive with every touch. The stroking within her and the outer abrasion were both incredibly erotic, and the heat was growing until she could scarcely bear it. She bucked back against him, trying to take more of him. Yet it still was not enough. There was something missing. "Robert, I need…"

"Shh…" He drove to the quick. "Only a little more. I have to…"

"No…your face…I want to see your face."

He muttered something beneath his breath, and then she was on her back looking up at him.

His face was contorted with terrible need, his cheeks hollowed. "Satisfied?" he asked hoarsely.

Her hand reached up and touched the plane of his cheek. She could never be satisfied, but it was enough for now. She could see how much he wanted her.

He didn't wait for an answer but drove into her again and began to take…and give.

It was fever, madness, and need.

She arched upward, her nails digging into his shoulders as the fever rose to an unbearable pitch, and then she cried out when the climax burst over them in a fiery torrent of sensation.

She lay there on the floor, her arms holding him tightly, feeling the shudder that racked him as he turned from strength to helplessness. "I'm too heavy for you," he gasped.

He was heavy, but she didn't want to let him go. "No."

He moved off her anyway and drew her close. It was minutes before his breath steadied enough for him to speak again. His lips brushed her ear as his hand moved to possessively cup her breast. "I suppose we should move to the bed."

"Soon," she murmured. "I like lying here on the floor. It reminds me of the cave.…" She didn't want to move ever again. She wanted to lie here with Robert in this firelit room forever. Nothing could be more perfect than this moment. Yet she vaguely came to realize she wanted something else.…

She made a motion to get up, and Robert's hand instinctively tightened on her breast. "No."

"I'll be right back." She stood up and brushed back her hair. She was still wearing the little velvet cap, she realized with amazement. It seemed impossible after the storm she had just gone through. She quickly moved over to the deep embrasure of the window.

"Where the devil are you going?"

"I wonder if I can hear…" She threw open the window, and wild music drifted up to her from the glen below. "Yes, I can. Do you?"

"The bagpipes?" He nodded. "Have you suddenly developed a liking for them?"

She nodded dreamily as her gaze traveled over the men, women, and children still moving about in the torchlit glen. "When Gavin isn't playing them. They're part of Craighdhu." She looked at him over her shoulder.

And Robert was all of Craighdhu. He was the silences and the mysteries, the passions that excited her and the cozy fires that warmed her. She felt a surge of love for him so strong, it almost took her breath away. "Can't you see that this is how it should be?"

He didn't answer, and she turned to face him, a touch of defiance in her stance. "I tell you, I was right to do this."

He smiled slowly and held out his hand. "Then come and do it again."

He would not admit this passion he had for her was not a mistake. Well, she mustn't ask for too much. She had only begun and had already won a great deal tonight.

She smiled as she started toward him, unconsciously keeping pace to the faint martial strains of the bagpipes drifting from the glen. "I intended nothing else."

At noon the next day Jock, Jean, and Gavin boarded the fishing boat that was to carry them to the coast of Ireland. Robert and Kate were at the dock to bid them good-bye.

"May fortune bless you," Kate said as she gave Gavin a hug. "Be careful."

"I will." He turned to Robert. "I won't tell you where we're going. I want you to be able to tell Malcolm in all honesty that you've no knowledge of us."

"I would have no problem lying to Alec," Robert said, then thrust out his hand and added gruffly, "Be careful, damn you. Don't trust anyone."

"We won't," Jean said as she drew closer to Gavin. "Gavin has a trusting nature, but I've learned how men can become corrupted by fear. You'll not hear from us for a long time, but I hope you won't forget us. We do not wish this separation to last forever."

"Jeanie, no!" Gavin said. "You know we cannot come back to Craighdhu."

"We can," Jean said as she met Robert's gaze. "If he will let us."

Robert gazed at her a moment, then smiled faintly. "Perhaps. We will see what time brings." He turned and took Kate's elbow. "Good journey."

They stood watching on the dock as the ship sailed out of the harbor and put out to sea.

"They look so happy," Kate said wistfully. "I've never seen anyone as full of joy. Surely, God will protect them."

"Well, I'd bank more on Jock than any deity," Robert said. "God sometimes forgets to keep an eye out for men like Alec Malcolm, but Jock never does."

"But Ireland should be safe?"

"It would have been safer a year ago, before Alec had men in every town along the coast." He saw the anxiety in her expression and said, "I won't lie to you. Jock will find him the safest haven possible, but they will be in danger as long as Alec lives." He frowned. "Stop looking like that. I didn't mean to frighten you."

"You didn't frighten me. It just doesn't seem fair that things are going so well for me and not for Gavin. This morning when I woke up, I felt so full of—" Love . No, it was too soon to tell him that. She substituted the word he would accept. "Hope."

He smiled. "Spring is the time for hope."

She shivered beneath the weight of her cloak. Last night on the green it had seemed much warmer, but it was always cold here at the dock. "It doesn't feel like spring."

"Perhaps not to a puny Sassenach like yourself, but the sun is shining and the ground is warming. We may even have an early blooming of the heather."

She looked at him skeptically.

"You don't believe me?" He lifted her onto Rachel's back. "Come, I'll prove it to you."

Her spirits lifted higher when she saw the mischievous smile he gave her over his shoulder as he mounted his horse. "Where are we going?"

"The barrens."

"But I have to go to the weavers and tell them—"

"You've told them quite enough. I found out yesterday that I have a minor insurrection on my hands."

She glanced at him warily, but he was still smiling. "Well, you deserved it. Within four years our own people will be making the finest woolens in all of Scotland and Ireland."

"If you have your way."

"Why should I not have my way when the way is right…and profitable?"

"A good question."

"And you won't have to worry about a thing," she said quickly. "Leave it all to me. I'll take care of everything."

"That's what I'm afraid of. You obviously have a taste for running things. Who's to say you won't decide I'm dispensable to Craighdhu?"

She gazed at him uncertainly. "You're joking?"

He chuckled. "Aye, I'm not afraid of being ousted by the clan. I believe I still have some small value in their eyes."

"They love you. I could never replace you." She suddenly grinned. "But in a year you will not be able to replace me either. You're right, I like running things."

"Well, you can forgo it for one day." He turned his horse and nudged him into a gallop. "I want to show you something."

A short time later they had left the town behind them, but it was over an hour's ride before they reached the northern tip of the island.

He dismounted, helped her down, and then led her up the steep, sloping hill leading to the edge of the cliff. He pointed downward. "Spring."

Seals. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of seals moving on the black rocks below. Sparkling blue water washed against the dark rocks burnishing them to an onyx shimmer. Scarcely an inch of rock remained unoccupied by sleek brown-black bodies. Males and females, babies with big gentle eyes and sleek, soft coats, plunging into the water or basking lazily in the sunlight.

Kate laughed in delight. "I wouldn't think they would come back this early."

"They usually come a little later, but they're good, hearty Scottish seals. Not at all like—"

"Puny Sassenachs," she finished. "They come here to give birth?"

Robert nodded. "And to breed. The females birth and then mate only a few days later."

"And don't give birth until the following year? That must mean they're with child almost all the time."

"They don't seem to mind."

"The babies are so sweet." She watched two baby seals flopping after their mother, their grunts of protest sounding almost human when they couldn't keep up with her. "Can we go down to them?"

"Not unless you want considerable damage done to your enchanting person. The mothers are very protective." His smile faded. "You know, when I come back from Spain, I wasn't sure there was a God."

She looked at him, shocked. Even at the worst of times, she had never doubted the existence of a Supreme Being.

"In this world where Protestants and Catholics are tearing each other apart, vying to find who can be crueler, it seemed unreasonable, if there was a God, that he would let that happen in His name." He gestured to the scene of sea and earth and life below. "But that's God, Kate. That's the God that makes sense."

"Yes, that's God." She felt as if she were bursting with love for Robert at this moment. She loved the man of thought, the bold warrior, Gavin's friend, her lover, every facet, every movement, every breath he took.

He kept his eyes on the seals as he asked, "Do you ever dream anymore?"

"Not since I came to Craighdhu." She breathed in the salty air. "There's magic here."

He turned to look at her.

"Home," she said simply. "I knew it the first moment I saw it."

"My God." He was silent a moment. "Then I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at your determination to stay here."

"I will stay here."

He shook his head. "It cannot be. I'm warning you, Kate, what ever happens between us, you cannot have Craighdhu."

"I'll persuade you otherwise. You're not usually so blockheaded. There's no reason why we can't live in harmony here."

"There's every reason. Why the devil will you not—" He broke off as he saw the stubborn set of her chin. "Why am I wasting my breath?" He took her hand and turned her away from the cliff. "Let's go back to the castle."

"Why? I like it here."

"We'll come back another time." He smiled crookedly. "It may be spring, but it's too cold to take you on the ground, and I feel the need to have you demonstrate just how harmonious we can be together. I trust you have no objection?"

She looked down at the baby seals on the rocks below. If all went well, God might grant her a babe herself by the time the seals came back next year. "No objection at all."

"You fool!" Alec snarled as his hand cracked against his son's cheek. "Can I trust you for nothing?"

Duncan fell to the stones of the courtyard, and before he could rise, Alec kicked him in the ribs. "I leave Kilgranne for only a short time, and you let this happen. How long has she been gone?"

"Two weeks." Duncan scrambled away from another kick and rose to his feet. "I couldn't help it. Gavin snatched her away before we knew he was here."

Alec doubted the truth of his words. Duncan was soft as a woman where his sister was concerned. He would never have dared defy Alec if he'd been here at Kilgranne, but he was capable of working behind his back. "Where did he take her?"

"How should I know?" Duncan asked evasively.

"You should know because you should have pursued them," Alec thundered. "But since you did not, I'm sure you've gathered rumors from the families in the glen. Did he take her to Craighdhu?"

Duncan hesitated.

"Duncan, I need an heir, so I cannot kill you, but I will make sure you do not rise from your bed for a month if you fail to answer me."

"They're not at Craighdhu," Duncan said reluctantly. "They were there only to wed before they moved on." He added hastily, "Or so I hear."

"And what else do you hear?"

"That they sailed from Craighdhu on a fishing boat the day after they wed."

"To what destination?"

"I don't know."

Alec believed him this time. Gavin was no fool and would not bandy about such news. But there were always ways to find out information. The MacDarren clan were closely linked to families here on the mainland as well as on the island itself. Someone would know.

Someone would be persuaded to speak.

And what then? It went without saying, the boy must be punished for his actions and his daughter learn the penalty of defiance. Dammit, if Gavin and Jean were still at Craighdhu, he might have had the opportunity to seize the prize fate had offered him, the prize that was now in Robert MacDarren's possession. Since Robert had sent the newlyweds away, he had no excuse to call on James for help to invade Craighdhu, and the island was impregnable without the assault only the king could provide. Yet there must be some way he could use this temporary defeat to his advantage.

He had only to seek it out.