Page 63 of Highland Ruse

The impending storm swirled wild winds around her, catching at her hair and dress, and yet she walked with the straight-backed pride of a queen. The silk of her yellow gown rippled across her body like sunlight over a loch and gave him teasing impressions of her body beneath.

The little girl who had mistaken Delilah for her mother upon their arrival slipped from behind the large kettle and darted toward the building behind him. Delilah’s gaze fixed on the girl for a brief moment, and her lips lifted in a kind smile.

“I see our Claire is still enamored with Lady Elizabeth,” the woman beside him said.

He tore his gaze from Delilah and turned toward Aida.

She tucked a lock of brown hair behind her ear and studied Delilah. “I confess, I’ve no’ seen the child so active—no’ since her ma died. The lady is special.”

Kaid agreed, but didn’t say as much.

Delilah came to a stop before them and looked up at the stone building. “What is this place?” she asked. Her yellow gown brought a sensual warmth to her rich brown eyes.

He indicated the children whose arms were outstretched as they turned circles on the velvety grass, their small bodies moving in play with the wind. “It’s the orphanage. This is Aida—she cares for the children.”

Aida dipped her head in greeting.

“The children can make their way to the keep for meals, of course,” Kaid said. “But with so many lads in their care, there’s always a hungry mouth ready to eat.”

Aida chuckled. “Aye, that’s the truth of it to be sure.”

But Delilah did not laugh. She surveyed the yard with a somber gaze. “There are many children here. I assume there are more inside as well.”

“There were many slain, and many children were left orphaned.” Kaid tried to keep his voice gentle. “There’s to be a storm soon. We should make our way back to the keep.”

“It isn’t so bad,” she protested.

A great gust swept over them with enough force to tug her hair free of its binding, sending tendrils of honey locks dancing freely.

“Perhaps it is,” she said with a laugh. But still she hesitated and peered behind Kaid, into the keep. “Claire made it inside, correct?”

Aida nodded. “But I’m sure she’ll be yer shadow again in the morn. I hope she isna a bother.”

“Of course she isn’t.” Delilah smiled. “I look forward to it.”

The large door to the orphanage slammed shut with a bang. Several children shrieked in fear, and Aida immediately turned to see to them.

Kaid touched Delilah’s arm to get her attention. “We need to go.”

She nodded and waved to Aida before allowing him to lead her back toward the castle where Rhona and the men were already heading.

Delilah did not cower against him from the wind or quicken her pace to escape its wrath. She strode with the same confident gait she always possessed. There was bravery in her that went beyond the pretense of playing someone else. It was genuine.

It made him wonder at what other parts of her were true Delilah, and not the faux Elizabeth.

Knowing Gaelic was a true part of Delilah. She spoke it as well as if she’d been born a Scot and lived as one her entire life. He also knew she allowed his people to know she spoke Gaelic. It was a great act of trust on her part to do so. Pretending to not understand or speak would have been an easy way to glean information. To share it meant she could communicate with his people.

It was the kindness of a considerate woman.

“You’re a clever man, Kaid MacLeod.” Delilah slid him a sly look.

“Am I?”

She smirked. “Never once did you ask me to abandon my goal to bring you to justice, or try to sway from my path. Instead, you put me to work helping the survivors. You knew they would be grateful, and you knew that would be hard to accept.”

“They are good people,” Kaid replied.

Her gaze returned to the road ahead, and she was silent for a moment. “They are. And you’re a good laird to them.”