Magick in the Mist #6
His brow furrowed, wondering if Isobel believed in a love such as that.
Since she was the one telling the tale, he thought mayhap she did.
If that were so, she must be sorely disappointed to be wed to him.
He didn’t like to think she was unhappy, but there was not much they could do about the situation.
They’d just have to make the best of it.
“Da, come listen to mam’s story.” Connor waved him over.
Isobel’s startled gaze leapt to his and her cheeks pinked.
He blinked, shaking off the thought that, in that one instant, she had the look of the lass he’d met all those years ago.
“I wish I could, son, but I have to leave now for Eilean Donan.” At the concern in Connor’s gaze, he added, “I’ll no’ be gone long, a fortnight at most.”
“Nay, Robbie, doona cry,” Isobel said, “We’ll make honey cakes for your da’s return, and if the weather improves, I’ll take you to the loch and teach you to swim.
” As she rattled off a long list of what she and the bairns would do while he was away, Ewan had the feeling she’d be glad to be rid of him so she could have Robbie and Connor to herself.
He felt a moment of regret that he hadn’t included her over the last weeks.
She’d obviously missed spending time with the lads.
He’d be more considerate of her feelings on his return.
She searched his face, worrying her full bottom lip between her small white teeth. “You willna be in danger, will you?”
“Nay.” He grinned. She might as well have told him. “I want you gone, but not dead.” He leaned over and kissed his sons goodbye. “What aboot mam?” Robbie asked when Ewan straightened.
Isobel lowered her eyes, about to protest when Ewan bent down and kissed her.
He’d only meant to brush her lips with his, but her mouth had tempted him for too long and he couldn’t resist deepening the kiss, if only for a moment.
Feeling her soft pliant lips beneath his, he vowed that once he returned, his wife would no longer be sleeping alone.
“You lads be good for your mother and mind what she tells you.” At her grateful smile and the shimmer in her topaz eyes, Ewan cursed the Gunns.
Five
At the sight of Leod in the valley below, Ewan urged his steed to a gallop.
He was as anxious to return home as he’d been a month ago, maybe more so.
He’d missed Isobel as much as he’d missed his sons.
Missed the sound of her warm laugh, the sight of her smile and the way she looked at him when she didn’t think he’d notice.
Covered in sweat and dust, he turned down the path to the loch.
He grinned at his sons’ shouts of laughter above the raucous splashing and Isobel’s feminine shriek.
He supposed he should have warned her that the bairns could swim like fish when she spoke of teaching them.
With the loch so close at hand, for the bairns’ safety he’d ensured they’d learned at an early age.
Ewan tied off his horse and stripped to his braies.
He came to a halt at the edge of the clearing, swallowing hard at the sight of Isobel standing knee deep in the water.
Her heavy linen chemise clung damply to her luscious curves.
Robbie and Connor were splashing her, her full breasts jiggling as she tried to get away from them.
Ewan crept unseen around the rocks lining the loch.
It wasn’t as though he could walk up and greet them, not in the aroused state he was in after seeing Isobel.
He picked a spot he was familiar with and dived beneath the cool azure waters. Robbie and Connor squealed when he came up behind them.
“Da!” They cried and flung their arms around his neck. “You’re home!”
“Aye.” He laughed as their slippery bodies attempted to climb up his. “Just in time to save your mother from bein’ drowned by the two of you.” He met Isobel’s gaze and smiled.
She pushed her wet curls from her face, her breasts straining beneath the chemise with the movement of her hands. He couldn’t draw his gaze from her delectable feminine form, so close all he had to do was reach out and pull her to him.
“Da, throw us in the deep part,” Connor pleaded.
“Yeah, da, throw us,” Robbie chimed in.
“Aye,” he rasped. Reluctantly dragging his gaze from his smiling wife, he tossed first Connor then Robbie into the water.
“Ewan, ’tis too deep. Where—” Her frightened cries faded when Connor and Robbie’s heads popped up from beneath the water, laughing as they swam back to him.
Ewan raised a brow in Isobel’s direction. She rolled her eyes and cupped her hand to shoot a spray of water at him. “You coulda told me they swim as well as the fishes.”
“Throw mam, da, throw her in.”
Isobel’s eyes widened and she held up her hands, shaking her head. “Nay, Ewan Mackenzie, doona even think aboot it.”
He prowled towards her and she took several quick steps back. “You did splash me, my wee wife, ’tis only fair.” The bairns cheered him on.
She gasped. Stumbling to get away from him, her feet slipped out from under her and she fell backwards. She pulled herself from beneath the water, sputtering as she did. Glaring up at him as he tried to contain his laughter, she grumbled, “’Tis no’ funny.”
He helped her to her feet. “Aye, ’twas.” He pushed the wet curls from her face and kissed her, swallowing her startled gasp. “I missed you, Isobel,” he murmured against her lips.
“I missed you, too,” she said shyly, looking up at him through the cover of her water-spiked lashes.
“Come.” He tugged on her hand. “I promise, I’ll no’ throw you in.”
“Nay, play with Robbie and Connor. I’ll set out the food I brought. Are you hungry?”
“Aye, verra hungry.” If he could go by the flush staining her cheeks, his wife knew he didn’t refer to food.
After an hour of cavorting with his sons, Ewan carried an exhausted Robbie under one arm and an equally tired Connor under the other.
Depositing them on the blanket Isobel had spread out beneath the chestnut tree, he was disappointed to find her chemise had dried and no longer clung to her curves.
Isobel watched in wide-eyed wonder as he and the lads polished off the food.
While they ate, she filled Ewan in on what had taken place at Leod in his absence.
He laughed at her disgruntled retelling of her nana and his grandda’s burgeoning romance.
She smoothed Robbie’s hair from his face where he lay curled up beside her sound asleep.
“It looks like we’ve bored the bairns with our chatter.
” She smiled, tipping her chin at Connor who’d fallen asleep beside Ewan.
“More like I wore them out,” Ewan said, stroking Connor’s silky curls from his cheek.
“They’re happy to have you home safe. They were worried aboot you.”
“Were—” Ewan stopped, his attention drawn to the shaking leaves of the branches just down from where they sat. A woman giggled and Isobel leaned forward, her brow furrowed.
From behind the bush, his grandda ran naked for the loch – tugging Isobel’s equally naked nana along with him.
Ewan cursed and his grandda turned around.
“Sweet Mary Mother of God.” Isobel groaned and lay back on the blanket, covering her eyes.
“Bloody hell, grandda, get in the water. Both of you,” Ewan yelled. “That’s it, I’m havin’ the banns read and the two of you will be wed in a fortnight.”
The bairns sat up, rubbing their eyes. Connor looked out over the loch. “Can I go swimmin’ with grandda and nana?”
“Nay!” Ewan said at the same time as his wife.
Settling both lads on his steed, Ewan took the reins in one hand, his wife’s hand in the other. He leaned towards her. “You ken, Isobel, our grandparents spend more time alone than we do and they appear to be havin’ a grand time doin’ so. Mayhap ’tis time we did the same.”
Her cheeks pinked and she nodded. “I’d like that.”
Ewan brought her slender hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her soft palm. He winked at her. “Your da is tired, lads. I think we’ll have an early night,” he said, yawning.
“We had a nap, da. Mam says when we have a nap we can stay up late,” Connor told him earnestly.
“Did you say that?”
“Aye, I’m afraid I did,” she said, laughing at his frustrated groan.
Isobel sat on the edge of the bed then lay down to stare up at the canopy.
Five minutes later, she sighed and rolled off the bed to pace the stone floor.
She didn’t understand why Ewan had yet to come to their chambers; he’d seemed as anxious to be alone with her as she was to be with him.
She smiled at the memory of his warm, teasing manner during the evening meal.
It was a smile that hadn’t left her face since returning from the loch.
For the first time since Ewan had returned from France, it appeared she would finally have a husband who would love her as much as she loved him.
Her worries that her nana’s second sight had failed after being expended on Isobel’s sisters had been for naught.
At the sound of heavy footfalls coming down the corridor, she hurried to the bed and slid beneath the covers.
She calmed the nervous excitement in her belly with the knowledge this was not the first time she and her husband had made love.
The thought would have been somewhat more comforting if she could recall the event.
The door opened and the candle on the table beside the bed flickered.
At the sight of the sensual smile creasing her husband’s beautiful face as he strode into the room, her nervousness was replaced with heated anticipation.
“Grandda needed help wordin’ his missive to your father,” he said as he pulled his tunic over his head, the muscles in his arms flexing with the movement. “For certain he has a harder time arrangin’ his own marriage than he does mine.”
Isobel’s eyes looked from his sun-bronzed arms to his face, searching for some sign he retained any anger at the way their marriage had come about.
He raised a brow. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothin’.”