Page 14 of Taken By the Savage Highlander

“I agree,” Cameron said, not bothering with any more pleasantries.

Walking over to the wrecked boat, he grabbed a mallet and a handful of nails. As soon as he found a place in need of attention, he got to work. He had been longing for something to do with his hands since his return.

The only thing he had been able to think about when he had retrieved Eleanor had been Margo and the way she had trembled while stubbornly insisting on fulfilling her duty. After she had smiled at him in the courtyard, the softness of her face stayed with him. He had tossed and turned all night in the chambers adjoining hers, just thinking of what she might be doing.

Lifting the hammer into the air, he brought it down harder than necessary. He was attempting to get rid of the thoughts, pound them away the same way that he was doing with this nail. Unfortunately for him, the harder he tried to push the thoughts away, the more strongly they came back.

“Are ye sour because ye’re soaked, or is there somethin’ else on yer mind?” Gavin called out behind him.

Cameron turned around, his eyes narrowing at his man-at-arms. Lowering the mallet, he said, “Ye should watch yerself around a man with a weapon.”

“That’s hardly a weapon,” Gavin scoffed, taking in the work that Cameron had completed. “Shame that most of our fleet was damaged.”

“Aye,” Cameron agreed, turning back to his task. “We must get these boats sea-worthy again. Nae only is this our main food source, we’re relyin’ on tradin’ fish with our allies too.”

“Ye daenae have to explain all that to me,” Gavin said. He surveyed the area for a long moment before gathering his own tools. When he returned, he asked, “That storm wasnae anythin’ to laugh about. I ken that Margo was relieved that she got those kittens into the castle.”

“Lady Margo has kittens?” Cameron asked, his shoulders stiffening. He’d deliberately stayed away from her and any mentions of her activities. “I wanted to give her time with her sister, so I havenae bothered her for anythin’ that isnae strictly necessary. They seem to be quite attached.”

“That sounds unlike ye,” Gavin said, conversationally rather than probing. “I heard she’s raisin’ a litter of kittens,” Gavin continued, placing a nail and bringing his mallet down. “Found them while ye were away. Seems the mother passed. Has them huddled near the hearth in yer chambers to keep them warm. I havenae had the pleasure of seein’ them yet.”

Cameron grunted, feeling that him being informed of her whereabouts was much too intimate for the current state of their relationship. He would have known had he allowed himself into his quarters. His avoidance of their chamber was because of his stark refusal to pressure a woman into sharing his bed. He remembered all too well the misery of his mother, another woman that had been trapped in a marriage she could not escape.

“I am glad to see she has found herself a project,” Cameron said finally. “And I’m sure that her sister is pleased about them as well.”

“It was kind of ye to go back and get the lass,” Gavin said after a beat, speaking between the steady hammering of nails.

“I wouldnae let her be without her sister,” Cameron replied, his voice sharp.

Gavin said nothing more, and Cameron was sure that he too remembered how acutely the loss of Cameron’s sister was felt. She had taken her own life to avoid the same fate as their mother. He would not allow anyone to feel that pain, and he definitely would not allow a girl so young to stay with a man that was more than willing to use her as a form of payment.

I will never become the sort of man that forces women into situations they daenae want. Me father’s brutality ends with him. I will make sure of it.

As the thought crossed his mind, another, far uglier, fact made itself known; and he disliked it to his core. If he were to walk into those chambers once again to find Margo waiting in her nightclothes, he was not entirely certain that he would remember any of the promises he had made to himself.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“No, you cannot play that,” Margo sighed, picking up the card that one of the young boys at the table had placed down. “That is not how the game works.”

The Hall hummed with evening life around them. An old hound snored beneath a bench near the hearth, women mended clothes beside the fire, and the smell of oatcakes and peat smoke lingered warmly in the air. Every so often, someone glanced toward the card table and chuckled as Margo accused yet another child of cheating.

“Ye dinnae explain the game well enough,” the child protested with a dramatic groan.

“Or you were not listening when I explained the rules,” Margo countered. “I believe that my explanation was more than adequate.”

The statement drew a round of laughter from the children. Eleanor leaned into her, giggling into her side. It was light, fun. Something that Margo wouldn’t have dared to expect when she first arrived. Even the atmosphere of the Hall felt comfortable, the fires roaring in the hearth, the candles burning on the tables.

“Laird MacLeod!” one of the children said before the laughing had completely petered out. “Ye should come play. Lady MacLeod has taught us the most fun game.”

“I tried to teach you,” Margo groaned good-naturedly, leaning back a bit dramatically in her chair.

The children had been immediately enthralled with the game, seeming to listen to the rules with rapt attention. However, as soon as they had begun playing, it became obvious that they had not absorbed a single word of what she had said. Or, perhaps, they were cheating.

Margo’s eyes found Cameron’s. He carried several sheets of parchment in one hand and was watching them with an expression dangerously close to amusement. She was not sure what prompted her to speak, but her mouth was moving before her mind caught up.

“You should join us, Laird MacLeod,” she said, gesturing to the empty seat across from her. “I could certainly use some help here.”

“Please!”