was when she landed on his lap and realized she was in his arms. Her fear vanished. She didn't even hold on to him. With her hands at her sides, she leaned back, a carefree look on her face as enchanting as her innocence. His hand was splayed against her back. If he lightened his hold, she would be thrown to the ground. Her trust in him was absolute, however, and she left her safety up to him.
His uninhibited wife couldn't be bothered. She arched back, lifted her arms, and stretched them out as far as they would reach. With the palms of her hands facing the sun, she tossed her head back and closed her eyes in blissful surrender.
Connor was stunned. He yearned to have such sweet abandon, to take such delight in living each and every moment. And as he watched her, the laughter welled up inside him, catching him by complete surprise. Oh, how she pleased him. He slowed the horse to a walk and came to a stop at the top of the incline.
Lessening his grip around her waist, he waited for her to give him her full attention.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him. Whispering his name, she placed a kiss near the base of his throat, her lips as soft and sweet as a butterfly's wings. He was shaken by her expression of affection. His smile disappeared, his thoughts protected by his guarded expression as he stared into her enchanting blue eyes.
A full minute passed without a spoken word. The tension and anticipation radiated between them. His gaze lowered to her mouth and stayed there as he whispered his farewell. And then he pulled her up against him, tilted her head back, and kissed her long and hard and thoroughly. It was a kiss he wanted her to remember, and one he would never forget. He made love to her with his mouth, telling her with his passion that he had forgiven her, and letting her know with his gentle touch that he meant to have her forgiveness as well.
It took Connor a considerable amount of discipline to remember Alec was waiting for him to catch up. He raised his head and realized an audience had gathered to bear witness to their laird's astonishing behavior.
None of them had ever seen him exhibit such open affection before. Most of the men were stupefied by their leader, while all but one of the women were clearly delighted because their laird was acting like a husband now. His action would surely change their own husbands' attitudes. If their laird kissed his wife farewell, the married men under his command would surely follow his example.
Connor's gaze scanned his audience, and when he noticed that Donald and the other soldiers who'd gone hunting were back and watching with ridiculous expressions of disbelief on their faces, he decided that now was as good a time as any to introduce Brenna to his clan.
He demanded their silence by raising his hand.
'Lady MacAlister is your mistress. You will take her into your hearts, protect her with your lives, and serve her as you have served me, for she is my wife.'
He lowered his hand, nodded with satisfaction as the cheers of acceptance roared through the crowd, and then assisted Brenna back to the ground.
The kiss had left her dazed. She staggered back and surely would have lost her balance if two of the women hadn't steadied her.
Connor left her there staring after him and stopped again only once, to speak to Quinlan, who was waiting for him near the stables and grinning like a lunatic.
Brenna couldn't stop sighing. For the first time in a very long time, she was content.
Everything, after all, was going to be all right.
Chapter 11
Life became a living nightmare for Lady Brenna, and it all began and ended with Raen.
Euphemia's pride and joy arrived at the holding just a few hours after Connor had made his departure to go hunting with Alec.
Because she was in the kitchens, Brenna didn't hear the drawbridge being lowered and was therefore the last to be given the news of Raen's arrival.
While all the servants were busy searching for her, Brenna sat at the kitchen table with Ada, trying to communicate. Determined to make the first meal she shared with her stepmother as perfect as any of the holiday feasts her mother had served, Brenna had already spent at least a half hour explaining, or rather, attempting to explain, what was to be served and when. Her goal was to impress Euphemia so that the woman would have no doubts Connor had indeed married well. Discussing the menu proved to be an arduous undertaking, for though the elderly woman's smile indicated her willingness to be of assistance, it was apparent she didn't understand more than a word or two of her mistress's instructions, and if Netta hadn't come to her rescue, heaven only knew what would have ended up on the table. Netta translated Brenna's Gaelic into a twisted dialect only she and Ada and God could possibly understand.
Netta was obviously a treasure. Although the servant was only a few years older than Brenna and had served her laird's household only for one short year, she had lived on MacAlister land almost as long as Connor had and therefore knew all of the goings-on. More important, Netta knew how to acquire necessary items for her mistress.
Once Brenna had explained what she wanted to accomplish in the great hall to make it more welcoming to company in general, and her husband in particular, the servant begged to take over the tasks of organizing the household servants and volunteered to spend the afternoon braiding rushes. She promised the floor would be cleaned and sprinkled with rushes here and there by the middle of the following morning.
'I would rather we keep them hidden away until I've finished sewing the cushions for the benches and collected a few more things for the hall. When everything is finished, we'll make the changes all at once.'
Both Netta and Ada were soon caught up in their mistress's enthusiasm. Netta was full of suggestions.
'As for the chairs you're wanting, mistress, I know for a certainty there are two nice tall ones, close in size to the one our laird prefers when he sits for his meals. They're in the tanner's hut, covered up tight,' she added. 'Lothar's known for scavenging out this and that from cottages that have sat vacant for a decent interval so no one will think him a thief. He doesn't have any use at all for the chairs-he told me so himself-and he threatened to burn them for firewood so he'll have room to collect more. He'd be willing and honored to give them up to you, and might be he has other things you'll be wanting. I'll give you fair warning, though. Lothar's a talker, and it won't do you any good at all to mention you're in a hurry. He won't take your hints because he's lonely now that his wife passed on, and he likes having company around.'
'I'll be happy to sit with him for as long as he wishes,' Brenna said.
Thrilled with the news that she could implement her plans for the hall sooner than she'd anticipated, she asked Netta to show her where Lothar's cottage was located, but the servant happened to remember her primary reason for searching her mistress out then and hastily told her important news.
'Lady Euphemia's son is here, mi'lady.'
The announcement caused her mistress to jump up and hurry to the door. If Ada hadn't given Netta a good nudge in her side, she would have forgotten the question her friend had begged her to ask.
'Mi'lady, could you spare one more minute to put Ada's mind to rest?'
Brenna paused at the door.
'Ada's started fretting you'll want to replace her because she has so much trouble understanding you. She's prone to worry…' The servant stopped her explanation when Lady Brenna went hurrying over to the cook and took hold of her hand.
'You'll be the mistress of the kitchens as long as you wish, Ada,' she promised her, and after waiting until Netta had translated her promise, Brenna continued. 'I'm the one with the problem of making myself understood, but if you'll have patience with me, I'm certain I'll improve.'
Convinced her mistress meant to let her keep her important position, Ada squeezed Brenna's hand to let her know how appreciative she was and bobbed her head up and down in understanding. She was dabbing at the corners of her eyes with the cloth Netta handed her when their mistress left the kitchen.
Outside, the sky was overcast with dark gray shadows, an unwelcome sight to Brenna, who was used to
