Chapter 13
Kith and Kin
Alina woke alone in her bed and burrowed her
nose into the pillow that held Roark’s scent, her body still
thrumming from their night together. She yawned and stretched and
luxuriated in the soft bed and warm glow of their lovemaking,
remembering how he’d woken her in the first greying of dawn,
trailing kisses from her shoulders to her belly and lower, plumbing
her depths with his lips, his teeth, and his tongue before slipping
out of her room to his own.
By the light pouring in through the
eastern-facing window, she’d slept well into the morning, and
could’ve happily rolled over and slept until noon, but then she’d
miss what little time she had left with Roark, and she’d promised
Cullen she’d visit the stables with him. Plus, she wanted to check
on Etain and Beasty.
Throwing off the bedcovers, she got up and
splashed cold water on her face, donned the green long tunic and
apron, and made her way downstairs to the dining hall, where a few
other late stragglers were breaking their fasts. She was eating her
bowl of porridge with chopped berries and thinking of the tasteless
gruel on The Rover when Cullen came into the hall with Roark
and Rose.
“You’re awake,” Cullen said excitedly as they
all took seats by her. “We’ve already been to the stables, Lady
Alina, but I’ll still take you after you’ve finished
breakfast.”
“Thank you, Cullen,” she said. She met
Roark’s smiling eyes. “Good morning, Roark.”
He smiled, slow and easy, and melting hot.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.”
Alina caught the look of pure adoration on
Rose’s face as she stared at Roark. She’d have to warn him to tone
down his charm. Finished with her porridge, she pushed the empty
bowl aside and stood.
“Shall we?”
Cullen led the way and Roark dropped back to
walk with Alina. “Niels and Grant left early this morning,” he told
her as they crossed the yard. “Laird Owen said it would take them a
day to reach the port towns, another day or two to take care of
business, and a day to return.”
“So,” she said, as anxious and excited to get
home as she was dreading leaving Roark. “We have three to four more
days together, at least.”
“At least,” Roark said, touching his little
finger to hers. “It’ll depend on whenever the ship they find sails.
Owen has assured me we can stay here however long that takes.”
Cullen stopped at the stables door and waited
for them to catch up while Rose waited and circled behind Roark as
they entered.
“Etain and Beasty are over here.” Cullen
pointed to two stalls next to each other. “I already checked on
them this morning, Lady Alina,” he said as Etain poked her head
over the gate and whinnied. “They’ve eaten three sheafs of hay and
half a bucket of oats each since yesterday.”
“Thank you, Cullen,” Alina said as she ran
her hand down the bridge of Etain’s nose. “I can see she’s well
taken care of.”
The mare had calmed down greatly since Alina
had fled Roger’s stables, and had actually seemed to thrive on the
journey here. Alina thought of Artur, and sent a silent prayer to
the bog loshadi, the horse gods of her mother’s homeland, to
keep the stallion safe and healing until Roark could go back for
him. He’d be riding Beasty and taking Etain with him on his journey
back to North Shore Keep, and intended to ride the way they’d come
and search for Artur then.
“I wish I could take you home with me,” she
told Etain. “I think you would like racing along the beach as much
as Brynja does.”
Etain snorted and shook her head up and down
and Alina laughed and gave her a carrot from the bucket. She
glanced at Roark, who was feeding Beasty at least his fourth
carrot, and caught the moonstruck expression on Rose’s face as she
watched him treat the gelding. She was of an age to be betrothed,
and for the flash of a jealous moment, Alina considered she would
make Roark a more loving wife than Gwyneth. A sweet and gentle
mother to his children.
She laid a hand over her belly, which had
given her no clues as to whether Roark’s seed had found purchase in
her womb. Under normal circumstances, her moon flow would be due
any day. However, circumstances had been anything but normal this
past moon. As she’d told Roark, the women in her family were known
for having tricky moon flows when under duress. She sighed and
dropped her hand. Like everything else in her life, she’d have to
wait and see if she was pregnant. And like everything but her love
for Roark, she had no idea how she felt about it.
“Are you all right, Ali?” Roark asked.
She shrugged. After the first haze of passion
had subsided, he’d cursed himself for spilling his seed in her, yet
Alina hadn’t been upset at all. She still wasn’t. She knew it was
foolhardy of her, of both of them, to remain as casual about
impregnating her as they’d been, yet she also knew her family would
still love her and accept her, no matter what. Something Roark
couldn’t say about his.
“This way, Lady Alina,” Cullen said, pulling
on her sleeve. “My colt, Damon, is over here.”
Alina turned from Roark's furrowed brow and
followed Cullen to a stall with a gorgeous black colt in it. “Oh,
Cullen,” she said, “he really is a handsome animal.” She held out
her hand near the colt’s head, and when he didn’t spook or shy
away, she held his halter with one hand and petted the bridge of
his nose with the other. “He seems friendly enough,” she teased
Cullen as the colt nickered and pressed his nose into her hand.
“Despite his name.”
Cullen grinned and handed Alina a carrot. “He
is,” he said, “if he likes a person.” The colt took the carrot from
Alina, blowing softly into her hand. “He sure likes you, Lady
Alina.”
“There isn’t a horse or a cat in this world
that doesn’t like Lady Alina,” Roark said. “Or that she doesn’t
like back.”
Cullen's green eyes grew wide. “Is that true,
lady?”
“Please, call me Alina,” she told the lad.
“And yes, it’s true, for the most part. There are few animals I
don’t like, though horses and cats are my favorites.” She gave
Roark a quick grin. “Along with stags and goats.”
“What’s your favorite animal, Roark?” Rose
asked.
Roark grinned at Alina. “Owls,” he said, and
turned his grin on Rose, which really wasn’t fair to the poor girl,
who practically swooned. “Curious owls who constantly ask why.”
“I thought owls asked who?” Cullen said.
Roark laughed. “Most do,” he told him. “But
there’s a verra rare, verra beautiful owl whose favorite word is
why.”
“Hmm.” Cullen seemed to think on this a
moment. “My favorite animals are horses, especially stallions.”
“Who would’ve ever guessed?” Roark said, and
they all laughed.
Their tour of the clean, well-run stables
complete, they went back out into the courtyard.
“I feel like walking,” Roark announced. “My
backsides spent too many days on a horse lately. Alina, care to
join me?”
“A walk sounds nice,” she told him. Time
alone with Roark sounded even nicer.
“Can Rose and I come?” Cullen asked, all
eager boy.
Alina looked to Roark, who arched his brows
and shrugged. They were guests here. It wouldn’t be polite to turn
their host’s son away. Plus, Alina liked Cullen. He reminded her of
her youngest brother, Aleksi.
“Lead the way,” she told the lad.
Rose joined them as Cullen showed them around
the extensive grounds of the keep, which had its own smithy and
brewing house.
“That’s where we brew our ale and whisky,”
Cullen told them. “Our father lets us have a sip of whisky on feast
days,” he said, puffing his thin chest out. “Rose doesn’t like it,
but I do. My father says it’s because I’m almost a man, and
whisky’s a man’s drink.”
“I can vouch for that,” Roark said. “It
stands a man upright, it does.”
Alina’s cheeks flushed as the image of
Roark's upright cock came to her, and by the grin on his face, he
knew exactly why she was blushing.
“When I’m laird,” Cullen told them, “Silver
Water Keep will be known for its whisky and its horses.”
“I’m sure it will,” Alina said. “As I’m sure
you’ll be as good a laird as your father obviously is.”
Cullen puffed his chest out even more. “Rose
will be a great lady of her own keep.”
“I’m sure she will.” Alina met the girl’s
blushing gaze. “Do you or your family have a young laird in
mind?”
Rose glanced at Roark and smiled shyly.
“Maybe.”
“Will your family choose for you?” Alina
asked, playing her part of runaway betrothed.
“No.” Rose shook her head. “It does no good
to choose for a MacLeod woman. A true MacLeod woman knows her mate
at first sight and so must choose her own husband. It’s been that
way for hundreds of generations.”
Roark glanced from Alina to Rose and back to
Alina, grinned, and toed the ground with his boot. “So I’ve been
told.”
“What of you?” Rose asked him. “Are you
allowed to choose your wife?”
“No. My family chose a wife for me when I was
younger than you.”
“You’re married?” The anguish in Rose’s voice
echoed the voice in Alina’s heart.
“No. Not yet.”
“Who is she?” Rose asked, more than a little
possessively.
“She’s the daughter of the laird I live
with.”
“Do you love her?”
Alina’s brows arched into her hairline. Rose
wasn't shy about her questions or her feelings.
“No,” Roark told her. “I don’t love her.” He
chuffed. “I don’t even like her, or her, me.”
Rose’s big blue eyes widened. “Then you
mustn’t marry her.”
“It’s not that simple,” Roark explained. “I’m
honor-bound to marry her for my family’s sake and the sake of many
others.” His gaze met Alina’s, sad, bittersweet, and determined.
“Since I cannot marry who I wish, I may as well marry her and keep
the alliances formed by our betrothal intact.”
“What does your lady love think of
this?” Rose asked him.
“She doesn’t like it,” he said, flashing
Alina a rueful grin. “But she understands. I think. I hope.”
***
Alina snuggled deeper into Roark’s shoulder
with a satisfied sigh, her passion spent and her skin cooling in
the dark before dawn.
“Is it this way for everybody?” she asked,
playing with the auburn curls on his chest.
“Nay, lass,” he said, tucking her in tighter.
“Only for a verra lucky few like us.” He placed a tender kiss on