Chapter Forty-Two

Tamsin

Tamsin fussed with the fruit tarts in the kitchen at MacQuarie Castle. "This is how you fix the dough."

Mora played with the pastry while Alana and Lia watched. "How's this? I think I did it right. Does it look right? Should I pinch it more? Or less?"

Tamsin said to Mora, "You did a fine job. It is lovely and will taste even better."

Then she gave a wee cup of honey to Alana and said, "Sprinkle a wee bit across the top like this." And her daughter did exactly as she had done, giggling all the while she sprinkled. "I wuv you, Mama."

"I love you all," Tamsin said, offering the honey to Lia. "Would you like to try?"

"Nay, allow Alana to do it. She did such a fine job."

She washed her hands and helped her daughter to wash the honey from her fingers, though the child was busy licking them as fast as Tamsin could clean them.

When they finished, she handed a tray to Mora with a smile. No matter how Tamsin tried, she couldn't get the image out of her mind of Mora as a child being hung on the pegs by Dagga, scaring her with the whip. The sheriff of Argyll had arrested Dagga the next day and taken her away, her list of crimes so long, he left shaking his head while the woman cursed him out, declaring her innocence.

She helped Alana down off the stool and said, "Why don't you three take the desserts out to the sideboard and I'll clean up. We can eat once the pottage is done." The three took off giggling in unison, trying to decide which berry tart would taste the best.

Thane came in once the girls left, coming up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her neck. Tamsin giggled and wriggled away from him. "I'll be done soon."

He leaned against the table in the center while she finished. "Can I help at all?"

"Nay. All is well." She smiled at him and stood on tiptoes to give him a quick kiss, one he deepened, his tongue mating with hers briefly before she ended the kiss.

"You are such a good mother, Tamsin. You impress me with your patience every day."

"Many thanks. I hope to undo any damage done by that evil woman." She finished and set her linen cloth down to dry, then fell into his arms. "Thane, I've never been happier than I am at your home. My thanks for making us feel so welcome. I'm sorry I cannot go as quickly as you like in our relationship, but—"

He set a finger against her lips. "I am more than happy with our relationship the way it is. I swore never to allow a woman in my home, if you recall, so I've come a long way."

"And I swore to never marry again. And if I had the chance, I'd have told my sister Meg never to marry. Now I feel differently. I hope to find my way back to her someday." If she only had some idea exactly where they had lived, but she didn't. She'd never paid attention to such details since they rarely left their property.

"I'll help you when you are ready."

"I don't even know what isle we lived on, Thane. It will be quite a challenge. But I thank you for your patience, especially with our relations. I am quite na?ve."

"I'm in no hurry. I'd prefer to take our time to make sure we are right for each other. We both had difficult times in our past. It's important we get past those times before we commit. That's my belief. I'll not rush you, lass."

She rested her head against his shoulder and said, "I agree." He rubbed slow circles across her back as he folded his arms around her.

She whispered, "But I do believe I'm falling in love with you, Thane. You've shown me a world I didn't know existed."

He kissed her forehead and said, "I love you too, lass. You've brought me happiness I've never known." He cupped her cheeks and kissed her.

"One step at a time."

***

Thane bolted up in bed, nearly letting out a bellow, but stopping himself just before his mouth opened. He'd had the same nightmare again. His father pushing him toward his brother and telling him to go across to the forest.

He wiped the sweat from his face and closed his eyes, forcing himself to picture the woman in his dream. He needed to see her face so badly that he'd hoped to have this dream every night.

With the discovery of Dagga and her litany of lies had come another realization. Had he witnessed his parents' murder? If so, was it truly Raghnall who had killed them? But the more important piece of the puzzle that had emerged from Dagga's admission was the answer to the identity of the woman in his dream. It wasn't his aunt.

The woman in his dream was his mother.