Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“The groom shouldnae be inside,” Cameron mumbled to himself as he approached the stables.
He had been passing by when he caught movement that was distinctly human entering the building. The horse chores should have been finished long ago. Reconstruction should have been taking priority over training.
Changing his course, he slipped inside, ready to demand the groom explain why he’d stepped away from the vital work on the food storage. He stopped abruptly when he realized he’d been mistaken. It wasn’t the groom, but Margo.
I should leave her be.
Even as the thought flashed through his mind, he stepped in closer.
He kept his footsteps as quiet as possible, not wanting to disturb her as she inched toward a restless young horse shifting nervously in its stall.
She was focused on the creature’s muzzle, murmuring something that he couldn’t hear.
Though her movements were unpracticed, Cameron could tell that she had observed someone approaching skittish horses before.
Crossing his arms, he took a long, deep breath, his nostrils flooding with the smell of hay and leather.
Across the stables, he saw her do the same, apparently trying to ground herself as she continued on her path.
Something compelled him to move forward with her.
His footsteps were quiet, not even disturbing the stray rocks littered across the stones.
Margo didn’t seem to register his presence.
Her own focus was so firmly on the horse and the minute movement of its eyes that she likely wouldn’t have realized he was there even if his footsteps echoed off the shadowed walls.
“You are a gorgeous thing,” she told the horse, her voice waving a bit with what he assumed to be fear, not of the animal but of the interaction going poorly.
Slowly, carefully, she lifted her hand towards the creature’s neck.
The action wasn’t cautious enough, though.
The horse startled, jerking its head back and stomping its hooves in displeasure.
Before Margo could pull her hand back and frighten the animal further, Cameron’s hand came up to cover hers.
“Too fast,” he said, his body so close to hers that he could feel the sharp intake of breath she drew in surprise.
His intervention wasn’t enough. The horse came closer, slamming its legs against the gate in an attempt to get the two of them to run off. Cameron grabbed onto Margo, steadying her with an arm around her waist, pulling her back against his chest.
The movement was pure instinct, a need to keep her safe and protect her interests. If she wanted to stroke this horse’s muzzle, he’d teach her how to do it properly. He told himself that this was no different than the way he guided the children in the clan.
He wasn’t foolish enough to believe it.
She went completely still in his hold, even her breathing stopping for a beat. Then, she seemed to force herself to pull in a lungful of air.
“She feels yer fear,” he murmured, the way she shivered in response to his closeness making his control waver dangerously. He swallowed harshly, loosening his grip on her waist infinitesimally. “Horses daenae listen to words. They listen to breathing.”
His hand, which had never left hers, guided her forward again. The movement was slower, more deliberate, as he took deep, even breaths. Margo matched them, letting him steady her as he stopped their hands a few inches short.
“Let her see ye first…” he said, his voice still low, his mouth close to her ear, “then touch.”
This time, when her fingers approached the horse’s neck, the animal did not pull away. Then, when Margo’s fingers brushed against her fur, she stilled. After a beat, her stance relaxed, and she let Cameron guide Margo’s hand over her body.
Though he could only see her profile, the smile that graced Margo’s features was bright enough to make her entire body light up. As their hands moved together, she enthusiastically said, “She likes me!”
“Aye,” he breathed, knowing he should release her and step away.
It felt nearly impossible to pull himself away. The feeling of each small movement she made against his chest was intoxicating. She didn’t seem to fight the contact either, letting him guide her even after the need for his assistance was over.
Finally, reluctantly, he let go of her hand. His fingertips brushed against hers, lingering even after he had realized he needed to let go of her. He hated himself for his gross lack of control, but that didn’t alter his actions.
Dropping his hold on her waist and putting a few steps of space between them, he cleared his throat quietly. He didn’t leave; he could not seem to bring himself to do it. She made it even more difficult when she turned around and flashed him that radiant look.
“If ye want to work with horses like her, ye have to be extra careful,” he said, his voice softening into the familiar tone he used when guiding members of the clan.
Though it was meant to put a bit of professional distance between them, it felt even more intimate.
“She spooks if ye come toward her from the front. Makes her feel like ye’re cornerin’ her.
If ye stand at her shoulder, she’ll be more relaxed around ye. ”
“Oh,” Margo murmured, slowly adjusting her stance. Her hand remained steady, her palm firm against the horse’s muscular neck. When Margo stood at her shoulder, she relaxed, seeming to enjoy the attention now. “I didn’t know.”
“Aye, one forgets how easily these beasts get frightened,” he said.
“It takes quite a bit of trainin’ to get them ready to ride into battle.
Before the grooms work them up to loud noises, they have to do this.
Keep their voices low, slow touches. And they have to keep themselves calm even when the beasts are afraid. ”
“I do not think I’m very good at it,” Margo whispered. “The last part. If you had not been here, I would have scared her even more.”
“Ye just have to remember to keep yer breathin’ steady,” Cameron said, staying close, his fingers twitching at his side wanting to reach out and touch her. “And when she’s in a stall, ye must remember that she cannae do anythin’ to ye.”
“I suppose I’d need more practice, then,” she said, nearly jumping when the horse turned to look at her. She nosed at Margo’s arm, apparently asking for strokes along her muzzle.
“I think that she’s willin’ to practice with ye,” Cameron said, unable to stamp out the warmth that crackled in his chest at the way the excitement on Margo’s face brightened further.
“She can tell that ye daenae mean her any harm. It is just that her instincts are tellin’ her otherwise. She needs our patience.”
Margo hummed, staying quiet for a few moments as she gave the horse the attention she must have been starved for. Then, softly, she said, “More of us need more patience than you would think.”
Are ye talkin’ about yerself? Or are ye referrin’ to me?
After Cameron had left the stables, Margo found herself wandering the gardens aimlessly. Nearly every single person in the clan was doing something to help with the repairs; she could not make herself sit still.
And Cameron’s lesson in the stables made me even more restless.
As she walked, taking in the way both flowering plants and herbal remedies were grown together, her fingers tapped rhythmically against her chest. It was an old tune that her mother used to sing to her, and after a few minutes, she began to hum under her breath.
With her free hand, she caressed the velvety petals of a bloom.
When she turned toward the castle, having decided to ask for a task, she spotted Eleanor running toward her. The girl had something in her hands and a strange look in her eyes. It wasn’t until Eleanor stopped in front of Margo that she realized what her sister had found.
I should have known leaving it in the pelts wasn’t a good decision.
“I found this,” Eleanor said, her voice hushed as she presented Margo’s pendant to her. “One of the kittens was climbing the pelts in the corner, and this fell to the floor.”
“Did you tell anyone else you found it?” Margo asked, her voice strained as she swallowed around the fear in her chest.
Ever since her mother died, she had guarded the pendant from everyone’s knowledge. The directive was so deeply ingrained in her that she feared even Tilly knowing about the object. She suppressed a shudder at the thought of Eleanor bringing it to anyone else first.
“No, I thought it was yours,” Eleanor replied as she ran her thumbs over the tarnished edges.
“I don’t know why, but I felt like I should speak to you about it.
” She looked up at Margo then, a slight flush over her cheeks.
“Perhaps I should have put it away. I promise I was not snooping through your things.”
“I did not think you were,” Margo said, glancing back toward the castle before putting a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Perhaps it is time that I tell you about that. Come, let’s sit a bit further in the garden.”
Eleanor nodded, letting herself be led to a bench surrounded by a bush covered in white flowers. Margo waited for her sister to sit first before she settled right next to her, pressing their thighs together. When she held out her hand, Eleanor pressed the cool metal against Margo’s palm.
“So, it is yours, then?” Eleanor asked softly, breaking the silence when she couldn’t seem to tolerate it any longer.
“It was Mother’s,” Margo said, unable to truly claim ownership over the object even though it had been in her possession for so long.
“And before she passed away, she gave it to me and told me to guard it with my life. She said that it would protect us both. So, I kept that promise to her and kept it hidden. I do not know how I got so careless with it here.”
“Perhaps it is because of how calming the land is,” Eleanor said before quickly amending her statement. “If it weren’t for the storms. If they weren’t so destructive, I think that I’d find them soothing.”
“Perhaps,” Margo muttered, though she wasn’t sure that she quite believed it.
“But how is it meant to protect us?” Eleanor asked after a beat passed.
“I have not been able to figure that out yet,” Margo admitted.
She ran her thumbnail along the edge, sliding the pendant open.
A small key slid onto her palm. She held it up, letting Eleanor look at it.
“I tried it on every desk and box I could find in Abbott Hall, and I still do not know what it opens.”
“The key could be symbolic,” Eleanor suggested, an almost whimsical quality to her voice.
“Or perhaps,” Margo said with a little laugh, “it’s the key to Laird MacLeod’s mind. I have no idea what my husband wants from me!”
Eleanor giggled, covering her mouth as the sound became stronger. Margo could not help herself, joining in with the symphony of sound. She was grateful to have Eleanor here with her, and she knew that she had Cameron to thank for her sister’s presence.
“He’s not a bad man,” Margo said when she got a hold of herself. “He’s simply… confusing.”
“I don’t think I have ever met a man that was not confusing,” Eleanor said, her voice so serious that Margo nearly burst out laughing once more. “I think you are lucky that confusing is all he is.”
“I think you may be right,” Margo said thoughtfully, replacing the key in the pendant. Then, as if compelled by the normalcy of sitting around and laughing with her sister, she added, “He kissed me, you know?”
“He did?!” Eleanor asked, he head snapping up to meet Margo’s gaze. “Was he gentle or was he… beastly?”
“Both?” Margo said, tilting her head to the side as she allowed herself to remember the closeness, the feel of his body against hers. “He pulled away like he refused to allow it to go any further.”
Eleanor was quiet for a long moment. Then, she muttered, “He is more of a gentleman than I expected.”
“I thought the same thing,” Margo sighed, tucking the pendant away in her bodice.
“I did not expect the man who invaded our home and took me as payment to be so… patient with his people. It seems as if he can extend it to me, but I am at a loss when it comes to the way we interact with one another.”
Eleanor didn’t respond immediately. She watched as a butterfly fluttered through the air, landing on a yellow flower just in front of them.
Then, as it moved onto the next, she said, “But do you like him? I know nothing of his reputation except for whispers, and some of the older maids have said he’s a savage. ”
“I cannot say with certainty that I like him,” Margo said, though it felt like a lie even as she spoke the words aloud.
“But I do not hate him, and I do not think that anyone calling him a beast or a savage truly knows him. Someone cruel, someone that cannot control himself around women, would not take the time to teach the younger members of his clan how to tie knots. He would not be greeted by his villagers so warmly.”
“I thought the same thing,” Eleanor said, smiling at Margo when their eyes met again. “When he came to get me, he was a bit terse with Father, but he never so much as looked at me unkindly.”
“He is not a bad man,” Margo said with a little more certainty this time. She was not certain she believed it, or she tried to make it the truth. “But he may be the most confusing man in all of the Highlands.”
Eleanor laughed once more, resting her head against Margo’s shoulder.
The gesture was so familiar that Margo could not help but fully lean into it.
She was still unsure about the contract she signed and Laird MacLeod’s confusing behavior, but as long as she had her sister nearby, she knew she could find contentment.