Page 55 of Taken By the Savage Highlander

“They dinnae give her a very warm welcome,” Cameron admitted, crossing his arms and gazing out at the cliffs in the distance.

“I do not think that bothers her any,” Margo laughed.

She seemed lighter today, a mix of excitement and nervousness buzzing under her skin. In the week leading up to their departure, he had heard her laughter more often. She and her sister had been attached at the hip every time he caught sight of them.

“Aye, she asked me when I thought the next storm would happen,” Gavin said, shaking his head. He glanced over at the horizon, taking note of the sun’s position in the sky. Then, his expression hardened, shifting back to the warrior that Cameron knew he was. “I have completed all of me rounds. I am ready to leave at yer command.”

Cameron nodded, dismissing his man-at-arms and turning to Margo. “We willnae depart until ye’re comfortable.”

She looked up at him, tilting her head as though she couldn’t quite understand who she was looking at. He knew that she had felt his distance. It wasn’t as if she had done anything to bridge it, though.

Perhaps it has always been me reachin’ for her, forcin’ her to think she must return me desires for the sake of duty.

Margo did not speak; instead, she stepped over to the open door of the carriage they would share. When he offered her his hand, she took it, allowing him to help her inside. Then, once she was settled, he signaled to the group to be ready to follow before climbing in behind her.

“Tilly told me you asked her to remain at the castle to look after the kittens while we are away,” she said after he had wrapped his knuckles twice against the roof to get the caravan moving.

“I did,” he confirmed, realizing all at once that riding in the same carriage had been a mistake. He shifted slightly, scanning the landscape as they left the courtyard. “I dinnae think that anyone else would take care of them to a degree ye approved of.”

Margo hummed a soft, appreciative noise. The wind stirred as they passed by the rosebushes just before the castle gates. All at once, his nostrils were filled with a scent that he had come to associate with her. It was intoxicating, making the carriage feel even smaller than it was.

I could have ridden beside the carriage.

“You are right,” she admitted, carefully keeping the few inches of space between them as she leaned in closer to the window on his side. “I was worried about how they would fare while we were away. Now I know that they’ll be spoiled.”

He tried to provide an answer, but her closeness scrambled his thoughts. When he could not formulate an appropriate response, he grumbled, “Ye have yer own window.”

“I do, but the view is nowhere near as interesting on that side,” she replied, moving back slightly but not returning to her side.

“It is right now,” he conceded after another long moment. “But come afternoon, ye will have a much bonnier view. And ye can see this whenever ye want. We’re nae even a half hour’s walk from the castle gates right now.”

That seemed to be enough to get her back onto her side. He took his first full breath before settling against the bench. He was a warrior; he had faced down fearsome armies and flirted with death. Nevertheless, being with her felt like his most treacherous battle yet.

“I did not know there were flowering bushes so far from the castle,” Margo marveled, her voice light and airy. It made something in his chest clench, and there was no walking away from the source of this discomfort.

Ach, I kent I should have taken me own horse.

Margo rubbed her hands together, not taking her eyes off of the passing scenery. The morning had somehow grown colder, and she worried that it meant a storm was rolling in. She could not see any clouds on the horizon, though.

Cameron shifted beside her, and a moment later, she heard his window sliding closed. The cross-breeze ceased immediately. Even though she did not yet feel warm, the icy edge of the Highlands was gone.

“It is cooler up north,” Cameron said, pulling a fur free from somewhere beneath his seat. As he draped it over Margo’s lap, he said, “I must have neglected to tell ye.”

She looked down at the soft pelt, reaching down to run her fingers through the fur. Though he had been distant and she knew what had happened during his meeting with her father, the warmth she had felt growing between them remained. Even though his behavior was infuriatingly confusing, there was still a level of care that drove his actions.

I wish I knew how to speak to you.

“I do not believe I have properly thanked you for the ceilidh,” Margo said, meeting his gaze again.

“I am nae the one that planned it,” Cameron said, not looking away from her for the first time since he told her about the trip. “Ye should thank Marian and Lachlan for the celebration.”

“You still had to allow it,” she insisted. She was no stranger to his command now. Had he truly been against it, the ceilidh would not be happening. “So, I am thanking you for that.”

Cameron grunted, apparently deciding that it was not something worth arguing about. Then, quietly and much too casual about what he was suggesting, he said, “After the ceilidh, the two of us must begin thinkin’ seriously about our future together.”

“Our future?” Margo asked, the words not quite connecting.

Is he threatenin’ to get rid of me?