have just held me.”
“Nay,” he said with a small shake of his head. “It’s not enough. I need you in ways that leave me baffled. I couldn’t chance hurting you.”
“Even if I wanted you again?”
He groaned and briefly closed his eyes. “Och, lass, you’re killing me.”
Cara moaned into his mouth as he kissed her. The tight feeling in her chest disappeared at Lucan’s words. He hadn’t changed his mind. He had only been thinking of her.
He grabbed her hips and pulled her against him as he ground his hard arousal against her. “If I don’t stop now, I won’t.”
“And the bread will ruin,” she said between kisses.
Lucan ended their kiss. “You thought I didn’t want you.”
Cara thought about lying, but she realized to do so now would alter their relationship. They had been honest with each other from the beginning. “Aye. I did.”
“I told you yesterday you were mine.”
“Even though you found out I’m descended from
“You’re descended from Druids, Cara. There’s a difference. Your ancestors chose to be
But in the back of her mind, Cara knew that she would have to make a choice.
“When you finish here, come out to the bailey. I would like to have you practice more with the weapons.”
She laughed as he slapped her on the bottom when he walked past. She turned and shook her head. “My same argument stands. Mortal weapons won’t do me any good against magic.”
“You never know,” he called over his shoulder.
Cara watched him until he disappeared into the great hall. Her smile never wavered as she finished with the bread and set it to rise.
She rinsed her hands and had started toward the great hall when the garden caught her eye. With one look at the plants, her fingers began that now familiar tingle. Herbs still grew in the weeds; at least the ones that hadn’t been choked out were still growing. With a little care, they could return.
Cara walked out of the kitchen and knelt in the garden. As soon as her hands touched the plants, a warm, contented feeling stole over her. She began to pull the thick, mature weeds out of the ground. It felt good to get her hands in the soil, even when the dirt got under her fingernails. There was something natural and
She paused in her task only long enough to put the bread in the oven, and then she was back in the garden. By the time noon came, the garden was half-weeded and the smell of fresh-baked bread filled the air.
With a slap of her hands together, she dusted them off and rose to rinse them. She turned to find Lucan leaning against the castle watching her much as he had done earlier in the kitchen.
“I couldn’t let the bread burn,” she said when he raised his brows.
“Nay, I suppose you couldn’t. And the garden?”
She glanced at the ground, happy to see many of the herbs were still in place. “I couldn’t stand around doing nothing.”
“I didn’t think the herbs still survived.”
She shrugged. “They may not. Most were overtaken by weeds, but I’ve given them a fighting chance now.”
“Hm,” he said, and held out his hand. “Fallon and Quinn are waiting.”
Cara didn’t miss the curious glance he gave the garden. She gathered the bread and took it into the great hall, where even Quinn smiled when he saw the fresh bread. The brothers eagerly cut into the bread, but Cara found her attention returning again and again to the garden.
And when she began to wonder if she could slip away unnoticed to return to the herbs, she knew something had changed.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Keep your sword up,” Lucan told Cara. Her arms were tiring and her lips were pinched, but he couldn’t let up on his instructions. There was so much she needed to know, and so little time to learn it.
Fallon and Quinn had taken turns with him instructing her. Cara didn’t complain once, though he knew she didn’t see the need in it.
“Watch my eyes,” he reminded her. He lunged, and the end of his wooden sword hit her between her breasts. “You weren’t watching.”
She sighed and took a step back as she lowered her sword. “You had years of training, Lucan. I can only learn so much in a few days.”
“But you’ve done well considering,” Fallon said.
Lucan noticed Fallon had left his wine in the castle. For the past few hours, Fallon had drunk nothing but water. Lucan couldn’t recall the last time Fallon had gone so long without his wine.
Quinn sat beside Fallon on the steps. “It’s her skirts. They hamper her.”
Lucan nodded. “There’s nothing to be done about it, though.”
“I could wear breeches as you do,” she said.
Lucan choked on his spit. As he coughed, he imagined what she would look like walking around the castle with breeches molding to her body. He would like nothing more than to see that, but he didn’t want anyone else to see.
“Nay,” he said when he stopped coughing. “No breeches for you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Any other suggestions?”
“Stay near one of us,” Quinn said.
“Easier said than done,” she retorted. “It’s not that I don’t want to learn. It’s that I don’t think I can.”
“Aye, you can,” Lucan said. “You’ve come a long way already. Before, you could barely hold the sword. With a tap of my blade against yours I could knock your weapon out of your hand. Now, you hold it with a firm grip.”
Fallon nodded. “And you’re quick despite your skirts.”
“The Warriors will use their strength,” Lucan said. “They will try to overpower you, but with your swiftness, you can keep away from them.”
Her head cocked to the side. “You have such faith in me.”
“You’re learning from a MacLeod. Of course I have faith in you.”
She laughed, the sound music to his ears. When was the last time the bailey had heard laughter? By the looks on his brothers’ faces, they were thinking the same thing.
“All right,” Cara said, and lifted her sword and dagger. “Let us continue.”
“This time, don’t engage me. Stay out of my reach. Only use your weapons to deflect mine if I get close.”
“Remember,” Fallon said. “The Warriors and wyrran will be striking out with their claws.”
Lucan nodded. “I want to get her used to evading the sword first.”
Cara’s stance had widened, her knees slightly bent as she stared into his eyes. He was more than impressed with how much she had learned in the short time she had trained. At first, he had done it merely to give her the idea that she could defend herself. They had all known she didn’t stand a chance against a Warrior.
But the more time Lucan watched her, the more he realized she stood a very good chance of keeping a Warrior or wyrran off her until he or his brothers could get to her.
He circled her, her steps matching his. He lunged forward and smiled when she spun out of his reach, her dagger touching his arm. Had she not put the flat of the blade against him, she would have sliced him open.
“Very good,” Quinn called, approval in his voice. “He’ll be expecting that from now on, though.”
