Lion's Bride - Iris Johansen [147]
“Indeed?”
“Lord Kenneth of Craighdhu is paying me court. He comes here to visit at least every fortnight.”
“And do you find him a pleasing suitor?”
“Why not? He’s young and comely and says I’m sweet as honey.”
“He must not be a good judge of character. I think you should send him away next time.”
She cast him a shrewd glance. “Ah, I thought you would not like it.”
He had masked his displeasure, but she knew him too well. “I don’t like it,” he said softly. “I like it so little that, if I see him near you, I may be forced to vent my dislike in a way you’ve told me I should not.”
She thought about it for a moment and decided to retreat. “Well, I don’t like him anyway. He talks only of horses and my hair. You’d think there were no other red-haired women in Scotland.”
No woman like you, my love. No woman in the world like Selene. “Be tolerant with him. Red is a most peculiar color.”
“Be tolerant with him, but not in a way you reserve for yourself.” She frowned. “You’re most unfair.”
“You’ll learn that’s the nature of men with women.”
Her brow cleared and she smiled. “Oh, yes, I’m learning more all the time. You called me a watcher, and it’s you I watch now, Kadar. I watch and I learn.” She deliberately reached out and took his hand. “You will not go on many more journeys without me. On this I give you my word.”
Healing, brightness in darkness, a flame that has no end. Selene.
Let her go. Not yet. Let the promise be fulfilled.
Ah, but it was such a glorious, tempting promise. His grasp tightened around her hand, and it was a moment before he could force himself to release it. “But I fear if I took you with me, there is a grave problem that could never be resolved.”
“What problem?” she asked, puzzled.
He smiled. “Why, my dear lady, which one of us would captain the ship?”
“Ware, I’ve decided you must get me another ship,” Thea announced as she came up the hill toward him. “I must have a constant supply of silk, and heaven knows if I can get my worms to survive and multiply in this climate.”
“You seem to have no trouble.”
She glanced down at her swollen belly. “But I’m not a silkworm.”
“I’ve noticed that.” He smiled as he reached out a hand and helped her to level ground beside him. “You’re much more demanding. I should have seen it coming when Kadar arrived yesterday. You had barely finished greeting him before you started quizzing him about the availability of silk in Spain. I’ve already supplied you with one ship to use in the trade. Why is it not enough?”
“I must have the silk when I need it. Are my embroiderers to sit twiddling their thumbs while I wait for Kadar to get back from a trading journey? It’s not reasonable.”
“It’s not reasonable for me to have to spend my gold on another ship when I need it for craftsmen to build my fortress.” He glanced at the multitude of busy workers a few yards away. “It’s more important that we have strong walls to protect us than you have silk.”
Thea glanced at the high stone outer walls that had just been completed. The work on the castle itself had been started, but it was going slowly. Ware demanded perfection: every window must be cut in such a way as to repel arrows, the battlements must be unscalable. “Silk brings more gold, and it will take years for you to finish here. We’re very comfortable in our cottages.” She paused. “Need you be so careful? It seems a different world here. It’s as if we’re the only people on earth.”
Ware drew her close. “You like my highlands?”
He had never asked her that question before. It had been a hard two years, a time of building cottages and planting crops, of teaching embroidery skills, of settling disputes and dealing with arguments and births and deaths. Did she like this Scotland?
It was a land of mists and purple shadows, of chill, blustery winds and seas that shimmered like green-gray silk under summer skies—a hard land.
A land of challenge that bred strong men like Ware.
“It’s not a land you ‘like,’” she said slowly. “That is too weak a word. But it’s a place that becomes