Page 17 of Taken By the Savage Highlander

His mind was forced into wakefulness when he saw her. Margo was sitting on the floor in nothing more than a nightgown, her legs crossed. In front of her were the kittens that Gavin had told him about, and they seemed to be taking their first unsteady steps.

One of them, a small orange fur ball, was nestled in her lap. Another was at her side, reaching for the ribbon hanging from her hair, toppling over but standing once more as if unrrufled by the limitations of its small body. The other three were tumbling around, learning to play.

Margo kept singing, though her mouth was curved into a grin. Giggles escaped her between the lullaby words, but she kept trying to push through it. Cameron could do nothing but stare, completely transfixed by the scene.

She looked so free, unburdened by the sudden weight of duty placed on them both the last few weeks. Her entire focus was on those tiny lives, and it was obvious that her care was the reason for their antics. Even though they did not have a mother, their bellies were full, and they seemed just as strong as they would have been otherwise.

Her singing stopped abruptly when her eyes finally landed on him. A blush settled upon her cheeks, and she nearly jumped, seeming to restrain herself at the last second when she remembered the kitten lying on her lap. Giving Cameron an apologetic smile, she said, “My apologies. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Cameron grunted, watching the little fur balls roll over the ground. He felt almost as if he shouldn’t be here. These creatures were so small and fragile he could surely break them.

“The kittens were a bit restless, so I was singing to them to calm them down,” she explained, plucking the kitten that was swatting at the ribbon holding her hair back. “I used to sing it to calm Eleanor when she was little, but it seems that they don’t care for it.”

“It’s a Gaelic song,” he said after a moment, humming the words under his breath.

“Yes, I know,” Margo said as she placed the kitten on the ground. “My mother used to sing it to me.”

The statement brought forward an unbidden memory. Cameron recalled the way his mother would pull him into her arms and softly sing the same tune. His sister was there too, laughing along. It was one of the rare times they’d been happy together, and his mother’s voice had been just as beautiful as Margo’s.

He turned around quickly as a smile threatened to settle on his face. There was no need for him to look like a fool here. His voice sharp to cover the flash of joy he’d just experienced, he said, “Ye should get dressed. If ye are truly Lady MacLeod, ye must learn the Clan lands.”

“Have you seen the Laird?” Margo asked Tilly as she left the Great Hall after a quick meal. “I believe he means to show me around the lands today.”

“Aye, I believe that he’s already headed to the stables,” Tilly said, carefully smoothing out Margo’s gown; one that Eleanor had brought from the manor.

“Thank you,” Margo said as she started heading toward the doors. She stopped for a moment, turning back to Tilly “Could you ensure that the kittens are fed while I am away?”

“Of course, Lady Margo,” Tilly said, giving her a little curtsey. “I hope ye have fun with Laird MacLeod.”

Margo nodded, giving her maid a tight smile. It wasn’t as if she didn’t think she’d enjoy going out on a ride; but she still didn’t know how she felt about MacLeod. Though she wanted to hate him, he had brought Eleanor to her.

It’s much too complicated.

As she parted ways with Tilly, she prepared herself to see Cameron once more. The image of him, his strong thighs exposed beneath his nightshirt, stayed in the forefront of her mind. She couldn’t push it away; her mind fixated on the strength hiding just beneath his skin.

When she spotted him next to his horse, she was not certain whether she was thankful he was wearing trews or upset that he had foregone the kilt. It was likely better for her health that she would not be riding distracted. At least, that’s what she told herself as she approached.

“Do ye ken how to ride?” he asked when he spotted her. “The groom is preparin’ a horse for ye, but ye can ride with me if ye havenae learned.”

“I know how to ride,” Margo said, relieved that she would be on her own.

“Good,” he said, looking toward the stables.

Less than a minute later, the groom appeared leading a chestnut mare. It was saddled, and a mild-mannered looking animal. Its forelock flopped over its eyes, and its muscles seemed poised and ready for the ride.

“What is this creature’s name?” Margo asked, not taking her eyes off the beast.

“We call her Velvet,” Cameron said.

“She’s beautiful,” Margo muttered to herself as the mare approached them.

With an ease that seemed to surprise the groom, Margo threw herself into the saddle. Once she had adjusted herself, she accepted the riding cane from the man. Then, she looked toward Cameron, who was watching her with an eyebrow raised.

“Ready?” he asked, waiting until she nodded before he dug his heels into his stallion’s side.

Margo urged her own horse to follow. The mare went easily, confirming her suspicion that the animal was truly well-behaved. It seemed she intuitively understood who they were meant to be following.

“Where will we be going?” Margo asked when she came to Cameron’s side.