Chapter Seven #3
William stepped toward him. “Ye say nothing and that makes me wonder if ye are angry with me. I have always held ye in esteem, Breckin.”
“Felicitations, William,” Breckin said hastily, not wanting to give his thoughts on the matters he’d spoken of, “…on your marriage. I too recently married and am pleased with my bride. Alexander himself offered her hand to me. We are just returning from Edinburgh.”
William reached out and set his hand on his shoulder.
“Gladdened, I am, Breckin, to hear your joyous news. I want no resentment amongst us. I offer my felicitations on your marriage as well. Stay as long as ye want on my land. There is no need to rush off on the morrow. And I am sorry for what happened to Marian.” He bowed his head and turned toward his men.
Within a moment, the horses disappeared over a hillock and the sound of their hooves faded. He was gladdened to see the man’s back. In time, he would deal with the MacLarens’ traitorous deed and the Stewart’s disrespect for his sister’s death.
When he’d calmed enough from his go-between with William, Breckin retrieved the rabbit and withdrew his dagger from the sheath on his belt.
He knelt next to the fire and situated some rocks to form a base.
Nearby, he found a large enough stick to use for cooking the animal.
After he banked the flames, the fire increased enough to warm him.
He quickly skinned the rabbit, used the stick to skewer it, and set it over the rocks to cook.
Breckin cleaned his dagger with a cloth gotten from inside his tunic and used a little water from the flask to ensure no animal blood remained on the blade.
“Who was that?”
He glanced at Eva and found her watching him. Breckin moved to sit next to her, and used the cloth to dry the dagger. “A neighbor.”
The meat sizzled over the flames and wafted its scent to them.
“Who is Marian?”
She’d heard their discussion. Breckin sighed heavily. He was reluctant to explain what happened to his sister and besmirch Marian’s good name. “A betrothed.”
“What happened to her?”
“She died.” Without further explanation, he disregarded their conversation.
“I am sorry to hear that, Breckin,” Eva said softly and set her hand on his arm.
“It was a long time ago and I wish not to discuss Marian.” When she removed her hand, he released a dejected breath, hoping she didn’t withdraw.
The sounds of the forest lent to the easiness of being with Eva.
He stared into the flames of the fire, lost in his thoughts and she in hers.
At least being with her wasn’t uncomfortable and he need not fill the silence with senseless conversation.
Still, being near her allowed him to smell her flowery scent and notice the creamy skin above her bodice.
He doubted he’d ever tire of looking at her.
A while later, the rabbit appeared ready to eat and had cooked long enough.
Breckin took the meat from the spit, cut it into pieces, and by the time he’d given her some, it had cooled.
He sated his hunger and offered her more but she refused it with a shake of her head.
After, he cleaned up the remnants and tossed the animal’s bones into the fire.
He ensured the horses were tethered tightly to the bushes near the stream’s bank, grabbed a small pail he used when traveling, and untied it from his saddle.
He filled the bucket, approached Eva, and set it next to her.
She sat quietly, and had placed another blanket on the ground.
It would make for a soft place to sleep.
He wasn’t used to such comforts and usually slept against a tree with only his tartan as a cover.
He returned to the horses to get his saddlebag and hurried back.
Breckin untied his saddle bag and took out the small cloth he used to wash with when he traveled.
“Now, I have something I wish to share with ye.” He took her hand and faced the palm upward.
Her fingers still had a little greasiness on the tips and he used the cloth to wash her hands.
She seemed shocked that he would do so and gasped lightly at his touch.
“The Buchanans have a sacred ritual that we perform whenever we marry.” He gripped her hand and used the dagger to cut a small slice in the center of her palm.
She gasped and tried to retract her hand but he held fast until she got over his brashness.
Blood pooled there and turned her skin crimson.
Then he did the same to his hand and his warm blood covered his palm. He clasped her hand and said, “Not only are we joined in God’s eyes but we are now bound by blood. Our blood is forever joined, Eva, and nothing but our end will ever change that.”
“How barbaric,” she whispered.
Breckin took the small cloth and wrapped it around her wound. He poured water on his palm and wiped it on another cloth he retrieved from his saddlebag. “Not barbaric, Eva, symbolic. Ye are mine as I am yours, forever.”
“I need not be reminded of that, Breckin.”
They finished eating in silence, and after, she lay and faced away from him. Breckin shimmied close to her and used his body to shield her back. He set his arm around her and smiled to himself.
“What are you doing?”
“Holding ye.”
“Why?”
He moaned softly at her objection. “Eva, I wanted to…to say that the first time we were together was…” Damnation, he couldn’t form the words. “Was difficult for us both. I should have been more gentle and wooed ye as ye deserved.”
“There is no need to apologize, Breckin. What’s done is done. Now, should we not get some sleep?” She continued to face away from him.
He used his hand to caress her and send subtle messages to her body. “I find I am not tired.”
“Me either.” She shifted her body to the side and peered at him.
“Ye know what I want to do?”
“What?” she said breathlessly.
He grinned before he answered her, “Kiss ye.”