Chapter Nineteen #2
Where was he? Getting them something to eat, mayhap? Had he gone hunting? She waited a little longer, humming as memories played through her thoughts, leaving her smiling.
Finally, she left his bed and swung her legs off the bed.
Immediately, pain assaulted her. She put her hand between her thighs, over her chemise.
She was sore there. For some mad reason, it made her smile again.
Would she ever be able to stop? Would she feel this happy waking up with him every day? Aye! Every day.
Now that Constantine had dealt with Chief MacRae, she was no longer worried about him finding her. Besides that, after traveling alone and fighting for her freedom and her life, she trusted herself more.
She would never be so afraid of any man again.
She left the room and called out his name. Silence replied. She knew he wouldn’t go too far, so she took the opportunity to look around in the daylight streaming through the windows.
There was a carved staircase leading to the landing below. She vaguely remembered being carried up them last eve. She blushed and then spun around in a circle.
She felt reborn, renewed. Her world and everything she believed about herself had changed. She loved Clan Chief Constantine Cameron of Lochaber.
Walking past the stairway, she continued down one of two large corridors with three doors on each side.
One way led to a library, a study, and another bedroom.
The other, when she traipsed down it and swung open doors, led to two solars.
One was decorated in darker wood and bigger furniture while the other was just as spacious with more delicate furniture and lighter wood.
It would have belonged to another woman he’d loved had she lived.
The third room was smaller than the rest, with a smaller bed.
“Even here?” she asked, stepping into the room.
Everywhere. She heard his deep voice in her thoughts.
Looking around his daughter’s room, Ismay couldn’t help but lose her heart to him even more—if that were possible.
He had handed his broken heart to her and let her heal him.
It was no small offering to accept. This house proved it.
He’d loved. He healed. Now, she prayed he was ready to love again.
She would be by his side if he did and she would make certain she lived so his heart never broke again.
“Katie’s room.”
She turned around hearing his voice at the door. She offered him a comforting smile, knowing how difficult this likely was for him. But mayhap, it was part of his healing.
“She never spent a day here,” he went on, entering the room and sitting on the bed. “I dinna know what else to do with it.”
“Why do anything yet?” she asked, sitting beside him. “Though her life was brief, she was yer daughter. Ye shouldna’ ferget her or her mother.”
He was quiet for a moment, staring at the floor. Then he looked up at her and smiled. “There is room in my heart fer all of ye…and more to come.”
“More?”
He aimed a slanted smile at her and nodded.
Her heart flipped behind her bones and made her spring to her feet and head for the door.
He followed and caught up with her. He was still smiling.
“Where were ye?” she asked and patted her forehead with the back of her hand.
“Fishin’ fer breakfast.”
“Och!” she gasped with excitement lighting her eyes. “Is there a loch nearby?”
“A stream.”
“That will do.”
“Fer what?”
“Fer a quick wash.”
“’Tis a cold mornin’, lass.” he told her.
“A wee bit of cold never killed anyone.”
“Aye, actually, it has,” he corrected to no avail when she snatched his hand and pulled him with her down the stairs.
He wrapped her in two plaids and then kissed her forehead before stepping outside with her.
She was surprised and delighted to find the ribbon stream glistening in the sun, not ten steps away from the back of the house. When she saw it, she hurried toward it.
She hurried to the edge and dipped her feet into the water. She squeaked with delight and turned to him. “’Tis freezing!”
He laughed behind her, but not too far behind. “Shall we head back then?”
“Nonsense,” she told him, grabbing fistfuls of her skirts and stepping into the steam up to her calves.
He was quiet so she turned to find him. He was there, removing his boots and rolling up his pants.
“What are ye doing?” she asked and laughed when he entered the water.
“Ye said ye needed to wash.” He moved closer, his voice grew huskier. “I’m here to help.”
She blushed at the thought, but her blood also felt hot, like liquid fire. Did men do such things as bathe their women? She found the idea of it quite pleasing.
But it felt so much better than she could have ever imagined. His hands explored her with curious fingers that felt like fiery brands on her skin.
Her flesh reacted, growing tight and needful.
She wanted to tell him she loved him, but at a time like this—when passion reigned—her heart was likely not on his mind.
She could understand why not. Her body was reacting because she wanted more with him physically.
What if he thought she was mistaking love for mere passion?
Though, in truth, there was nothing mere about it.
He gave in to her every whim, and she gave in to his.
Later, he carried her back to the house and set her in the sitting room before a roaring hearth and covered her in a wool blanket.
She snuggled in the blanket, seeking more warmth and felt him behind her.
She closed her eyes and sighed in satisfied delight when he began rubbing her hair with another, smaller cloth.
When he leaned down and kissed her temple, she wanted to weep with how much she loved him. He was like water to her thirsty soul. Every moment with him made her love bloom and grow more.
“Constantine?”
“Aye,” he whispered, going down her check.
“I love ye.” There she said it. She told him.
He went still, setting her heart to ruin. He said nothing, making her want to run and never stop.
“Ye dinna have to reciprocate telling me,” she told him, wanting to crawl away. “I understand.”
He moved and came to sit before her, affording her a view of the face she never wanted to forget.
“Ismay,” he said, taking her hands in his and staring into her eyes.
“Understand this. I love ye more than I ever dreamed. My heart was dead and dried up, but ye came and ye rescued me, lass. I canna bear to be away from ye and when ye’re near, I feel at peace.
’Tis somethin’ I havena felt in a verra long time.
” He smiled when a tear fell down her cheek. “Do ye want me to tell ye every day?”
She nodded. “Aye, promise me ye will.”
“I promise to tell ye that I love ye every day. And I promise to show ye.”
She didn’t doubt him. She never had so far—and he hadn’t let her down.
He cooked her breakfast of fish stew with mushrooms and turnips, seasoned to perfection with the spices in glass jars on a shelf in the kitchen.
“Ye’re fierce and fearless,” Ismay told him while she considered him sitting across from her. “Ye’re handsome and ye kiss quite well. On top of all that ye can cook!”
He gave her a surprised look with a smoldering smile. “Ye think I kiss quite well?”
She laughed with him across the table. “Is that all ye heard?”
“What is more important than that?”
She thought about telling him that they could live without kissing each other. They couldn’t live without food. But she wasn’t convinced she could live with not kissing him.
“Nothing, my darling,” she said and rose from the table to step around it and go to him. “There is nothing more important.”