Page 18 of A Laird and a Gentleman

“The bees seem very busy this morning,” Mariam said, breaking the silence that had settled between them. She watched the industrious insects as they flitted from clover to flower and back again.

“So many things happen all around us, if we only take the time to stop and notice,” Cameron said.

“It’s nice to have that time now.”

Mariam flashed him a smile that went straight to his gut. He wished she wouldn’t smile like that because it made her all the more appealing. As a guardian, it was Cameron’s responsibility to take care of Mariam’s day-to-day needs, to educate her, provide her with servants, and care for her financial assets had she had any, and if of marriageable age, it was his duty to see marriage arrangements were made that were as beneficial to her as possible.

Nowhere in his responsibilities was he ever to think of her as his own. Granted, sometimes, wards and guardians did marry if the age gap was not too great an obstacle. But Cameron had other responsibilities—to his people and to his king. It was not wise for him to want anything more from this arrangement. Protecting Mariam from harm was his first priority, then came king and country, not his own selfish desires.

Cameron rolled his neck to release the sudden tension in his muscles as the two of them strayed from the gravel path onto the grass, their every step releasing the grass’s fresh perfume. He tried to dispel the image of Mariam as she had looked this morning as they’d ridden across the fields. Her cheeks had been flushed with pleasure and her hair had fluttered about her face. Only in his mind her pleasure was sexual and the heat rising from her throat was brought there by his touch. It was his hands that had loosened her hair, and his mouth that had brought color to her lips.

By the heavens! He frowned down at the ground, trying to find a way to rationalize his feelings for her. The answer was simple. His constant warring and service to the king had not left him much time for female companionship over the last several years, but even so he would never take advantage of a woman under his protection.

Cameron shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He couldn’t afford this kind of distraction much longer. Alexander was right. It was best to marry the girl off and place her in someone else’s care no matter his own feelings for her. And there was no better time than the present to begin that discussion because the men he and Alexander had discussed had already been invited to the castle to vie for Mariam’s hand. They were already on their way. There was nothing he could do now to stop what he himself had started.

With his fingers, Cameron raked his hair back from his face. “Mariam, we will be receiving two visitors this afternoon.”

“More men from your sailing ships?” she asked with hesitation.

“Nay, two gentlemen whom I’d like you to consider as potential husbands.”

“Husbands?” she choked.

“Aye. Two men of good reputation who are in need of a bride. Peter Mason is the heir to his father’s estate in North Berwick, and Laird David Sibbald of Balgonie Castle in Fife has two young children from a previous marriage.”

“Why?” Panic filled her eyes. “You promised not to send me away.”

“The situation has changed,” he ground out. “I must focus my energies on the king and his enemies, and I cannot do that if I am to protect you as well.” He turned his gaze from hers but he could hear her breathing, the slight draw and exhalation—light and measured—as though she were consciously regulating not only her breath, but also her emotions.

“I cannot, I will not marry. Not now, not ever.” The words were part plea, part sob. And just as they left her lips, a thin wind began to whine around their feet. It gathered force until it suddenly swirled about them, sending tree leaves and delicate blossoms to dance in the air. It was an eerie, chill wind that brought no new air with it.

Cameron’s gaze flew to Mariam’s face. Her expression was haunted. At the look, an icy shiver crept down his spine. What was happening? So many strange occurrences had been happening as of late. All of them had happened when Mariam was near. And emotional as she was now.

Could there be a connection? He narrowed his gaze. She stood perfectly still with her arms wrapped around her waist. The color in her cheeks had drained. She shuddered and closed her eyes as though forcing herself to relax.

As suddenly as it had come, the wind stopped.

“What folly is this?” Cameron asked, reaching for Mariam’s arms.

Her eyes flicked open. Fear once again shone in their depths. She stepped away from his touch. “Stay back. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“How could you possibly hurt me?” He felt the weight of his sword at his side. The weapon had protected him from many dangers. But this was different. The challenge he faced with her was not one that demanded brute force to resolve. Nay, if he wanted her to talk to him, he had to show understanding.

Her body shook as though she were locked in her own personal torment, fighting demons that no one else could see. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“I cannot know anything until you talk to me.” He stood before her, searching her features, willing her to tell him the truth. “What is it? What is different about you since my return? No more lies. It’s just you and me here in the garden.”

“Please . . . don’t force me to marry . . . to go away.” The words were wrenched from her with an effort. “I must stay . . . to figure out where my destiny lies.”

He should take a step back, and put some distance between them until he could evaluate the situation and respond as any other man who might be her guardian would. But he found he could not. Some aspect of her character strangely pulled him toward her no matter how hard he tried to turn away. “What do you mean, your destiny?”

*

Mariam held Cameron’s gaze. In the midst of chaos and fear, he was a point of calm. As she stared at him, she experienced an unexpected and confusing longing for something she could not name, but sensed it had something to do with no longer denying the truth. Something was happening to her. She was changing. Cameron clearly sensed it, and perhaps neither of them could deny it any longer. She would be a coward if she didn’t tell him what she suspected was happening to her. She had nothing to lose even if he didn’t accept what she said. He was about to send her away. There was no greater risk than that.

She drew a deep breath as she lifted her face to the sun, letting the warming rays give her the strength she needed. Then she took Cameron’s hands in her own and focused on whatever it was inside her that she’d been fighting for so long. She closed her eyes and looked inward, deep into her own essence, searching—searching for a long-buried secret. But was that secret good or bad?

Gradually, something inside her stirred. Haltingly at first, then with increasing strength and warmth. It coursed through her veins. Pumped through her heart. Engulfed her soul, until warmth filled her entire being.