Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Morning came so gently that Margo did not trust the soft light falling upon her cot. She closed her eyes once more, counted to three, then opened them again. The scene was still the same.
But I thought that Cameron was sharing the cot with me… Perhaps it was only part of my dreams.
Rolling over, she searched for him, but found the watchtower empty save for her. As she sat up, she wondered if he had even been here at all. The more she thought about it, the less real the evening before felt. Then, she spotted a wooden tray, and next to it was a note.
She sat up, scooting to the edge of the cot and grabbing onto the small piece of parchment. It read: Must repair. Eat. C.
“So talkative,” Margo scoffed, smiling at his neat handwriting. “But it seems I did not imagine last night.”
Setting the note aside, she picked up the fork. It seemed that he had gone back to the castle to fetch her oatcakes and smoked salmon. As the fresh butter she spread over her meal melted, she realized that Cameron had been here not too long ago.
She could not stop herself from smiling as she ate her breakfast. She knew she should not let her heart run away with this, but it felt nice to be cared for in this way.
If she didn’t dwell on the kiss Cameron had cut short or the strange memories from the night before, this was a rather pleasant way to wake up.
She attempted to keep her mind clear; however, each bite she took was a reminder of Cameron’s confusing behavior. The breakfast was a clear form of care. Even bringing her to the watchtower, she realized, was his way of ensuring she wasn’t in harm’s way.
“I cannot let him get into my head like this,” she said as she finished the last of the salmon.
She took a few minutes to finish her tea before slipping into her now-dry gown. At some point before leaving that morning, Cameron had hung the garment near the hearth. It was warm against her skin, feeling like an extension of the embrace he had given her the night before.
Thinking like that is bad for my heart.
Once she was dressed, she picked up the tray and carried it out of the watchtower. Birdsong greeted her when she stepped into the sunshine. It was almost as if the Land was apologizing for the rotten weather that had pulled her from her sleep.
“That does not fix the damage you’ve done,” she said, casting a pointed look at the cliffs rising in the distance.
In response, a soft breeze caressed her cheeks. She smiled, carrying that foreign but not unwelcome touch all the way across the rolling green grass. As she got closer to the castle, she was able to appreciate the full scale of the damage sustained the night before.
While she could tell that most of the wooden window frames had been ripped from their hinges, the bulk of the damage seemed to be focused on the food storage.
Most of the men in the castle were out in the yard, working with the kind of coordination that spoke of competent leadership.
Though she did not see Cameron there, she had seen the way everyone had looked to him the night before.
He is such an enigma to me.
Shaking her head before she could think of his lips or search for him in the organized chaos, she walked to the front of the castle. The doors were still intact, and as she climbed the stairs, they opened up. A beat later, Tilly stepped into the sunlight.
“Me Lady!” she exclaimed, rushing forward to take the tray from Margo’s hands. “I was just comin’ to get ye! Laird MacLeod told me to come and get ye after ye ate before he left to help in the village. He said he was bringin’ ye breakfast and to give ye time to enjoy it.”
“It seems your timing was just a little bit off,” Margo teased as they entered the castle. Conversationally, she said, “The watchtower was much nicer than I expected it to be.”
“Aye, it was rebuilt fairly recently,” Tilly said, passing the empty dishes to a servant as she led Margo toward her quarters. “Another storm took out the original structure.”
“That’s terrible,” Margo replied, a shiver running down her spine at the sheer power of this Land. “Do you have to rebuild things often?”
“Nay, nae really,” Tilly said thoughtfully.
“I cannae recall a time that somethin’ we weren’t plannin’ on repairin’ anyway got damaged.
The repair on the pantry and storage area is long overdue.
” She caught Margo’s eye, a playful sparkle in her gaze.
A strand of hair fell loose from her braid.
“I think that it was the land’s way of remindin’ us to take care of our home. ”
Margo hummed thoughtfully, but immediately filed the theory away as plausible. It fit with her own thoughts that this place had a spirit, a consciousness. The fact that Tilly had lived here her entire life only made Margo more inclined to believe her.
Perhaps the Land is not as hostile as I believed. It just guides with a… firm hand.
Both of them fell silent as they traversed the corridor.
There was no one else along their path, and it seemed that nearly everyone was in the West Wing of the castle assisting with rebuilding.
Margo cursed the quiet and the way her thoughts drifted back to Cameron.
She could not shake from her mind the way his body had felt against hers.
She was sure that she had not dreamed it now. Running into Tilly and hearing that the Laird had been in the watchtower with her allowed Margo to trust her thoughts. He had delivered the tray to her bedside himself.
Yet he still pushed me away after the kiss…
“Margo!” Eleanor called as soon as they walked through the door of her quarters. A kitten skittered away from her lap, puffing itself up because of the sudden noise. “Tilly told me that you got to sleep in the watchtower! Can you show me sometime?”
“I will have to ask Laird MacLeod to be sure, but I do not see why I could not,” Margo replied, leaning forward as Tilly began removing her gown. “It’s nothing all that exciting. Though, I suppose that the view is unlike anything back in England.”
“Laird MacLeod will likely allow it,” Tilly murmured as she helped Margo out of the dress. Putting it to the side and grabbing a clean garment, she added, “We arenae actively usin’ it at the moment.”
“Will you ask him for me?” Eleanor pleaded, grabbing onto the gray kitten just before it pounced on the hem of Margo’s gown. “He’s a bit intimidating.”
“I cannot say you’re wrong,” Margo replied, unable to stop herself from chuckling. “But I will ask him for you.”
“Thank you,” Eleanor smiled. She redirected another kitten with a huff. “Can we take the kittens to the courtyard? I believe they’re getting tired of being cooped up in here.”
“You’re probably right,” Margo murmured as Tilly finished up the last button on her gown. “But I am worried we will get in the way of the men working on the repairs.”
“They should probably go down to oversee the damages in the village by now,” Tilly said, already walking over to where the kittens were playing. “I’m sure they’ll like gettin’ a bit of fresh air and sunshine now that they’re more active.”
“As long as you’re sure we won’t be in the way,” Margo said, scooping up two of the kittens, “then I believe that we should let them play for a while.”
Eleanor grinned before grabbing the gray kitten. Tilly took the last two, then walked to the door. Margo and Eleanor followed her, walking quickly through the castle as the tiny animals squirmed in their grasp. Once they were outside, Eleanor hurried over to claim a small corner for themselves.
As Margo went to follow her, she stopped short, blinking several times at the group gathered around one of the benches. At first, she was sure that she was imagining the sight of Cameron sitting above a small crowd of children. But when he lifted his head, meeting her eyes, she knew it was real.
Her knees a bit weak, she settled next to Eleanor, finally letting the wiggling kittens out of her arms. They began playing immediately, and Eleanor giggled as she found a stick to drag across the ground.
Tilly placed herself between the two of them, creating a triangle to keep the kittens from getting lost. It seemed that the kittens, Eleanor, and Tilly were completely oblivious to the storm raging in Margo’s mind.
“I thought that Laird MacLeod would be in the village,” she murmured, her voice so quiet she was surprised when Tilly lifted her head.
When Margo met her maid’s eyes, Tilly said, “Perhaps the children were gettin’ in the way. I ken they seem focused now, but a few of them look as if they’re a few seconds away from gettin’ up and wanderin’ the grounds.”
As if on cue, one of the boys got up, dragging the fishing net he was working on with him. Instead of walking away though, he joined Cameron on the bench. Then, he spread the net between their laps and groaned.
“Laird MacLeod, I daenae ken why me knots arenae stayin’ in place,” he said. “Do I have to help? I’m nae any good at this.”
“Show me what ye’re doin’ before ye try to run off, Michael,” Cameron said, his patience disarming.
The boy sighed, but obliged. His fingers clumsily worked, and though Margo couldn’t see what he was doing from where she sat, it seemed that Cameron caught the mistake immediately.
He didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he watched patiently, waiting until Michael turned his work toward the Laird.
“Ye’re missin’ a step,” Cameron said, pointing at the knot. “Pull this free.”
“Which step?” the boy asked, though he did as Cameron instructed him.
“The one just before ye finish it,” Cameron replied. He reached out and tied the knot once more, properly this time, with deliberate slowness. “If ye daenae tuck this away, it will allow the nettin’ to slide. Then it will become looser and looser, and fish will be able to escape.”
“I see,” the boy said, studying Cameron’s work.
Then, doing his best to emulate Cameron, Michael moved onto the next knot that needed to be tied. His tongue stuck out in concentration. When he finished, he looked up at the Laird expectantly.
“Good,” Cameron said, turning back to his own stretch of net. “Ye can stay on the bench with me so I can make sure that ye remember how to do it.”
“Aye, me Laird, thank ye!”
Margo knew she was staring, but she could not look away.
Her heart was fluttering in a funny way in her chest at the sight of the giant, battle-scarred Highland warrior patiently teaching a little boy how to tie knots.
In fact, she could not rationalize this version of him, thinking back to the version of him she first met.
Nor could she make sense of the Laird MacLeod that had retreated after kissing her but held her through the night.
It never failed to impress Cameron just how competent his clan was. A storm like the one that had ravaged the coastline the night before would have crippled any other clan, but his people seemed to thrive in the extremes. Still, that did not mean that he was not exhausted from this whole day.
Perhaps that’s why he ran directly into Margo in the narrow corridor. It had been a long day. He wasn’t watching where he was going.
“My apologies,” she squeaked, nearly falling over before Cameron reached out to grab her waist and steady her. “I was not watching where I was going.”
“I wasnae either,” he said, his throat tight.
His hands lingered in place, almost like he could not bring himself to remove them. The feeling of her body heat was intoxicating. He felt like he could get addicted to it if he was not careful.
Reluctantly, he dropped his hold. When her body swayed forward, chasing the contact, he nearly broke. His hands curled into fists at his sides, and he swallowed down a possessive noise.
Forcing himself to take a step back, he said, “It is gettin’ late. Ye should be in yer chambers.”
Margo’s confusion was evident, and she watched him as if she could not understand what she had done wrong. After a beat, she said, “I am aware of the hour. I’m going to fetch milk for the kittens.”
“Ye couldnae send Tilly?” he asked, not quite harshly, though not kindly either. “Ye shouldnae be walkin’ around the castle on yer own until repairs are finished.”
“She is busy with the kittens, and I wanted to stretch my legs one last time before I retired for bed,” Margo said, crossing her arms over her chest. “If you are truly worried about me walking about on my own, you are welcome to accompany me.”
“I daenae have the time. There are matters I must attend to in me study,” he said, though it wasn’t the whole truth. “I’ve been out doin’ repairs all day.”
He knew that if he agreed to join her, he wouldn’t be able to control himself. The beast that lived within him was already attempting to claw its way out of his chest. He had seen the way that men who couldn’t control themselves hurt women. That was not a fate he would damn Margo to.
“I see,” she said quietly.
If he didn’t know any better, he would think that she sounded dejected.
“Daenae linger,” he told her, stepping around her and continuing on his way. He did not slow down as he said, “Find a servant to fetch yer milk. I willnae be there to save ye if the roof caves in.”