Davina understood that many of the villagers were doubtful that a knight Crusader would choose to become a steward of the land. But James surprised everyone with his natural affinity for running a keep. ’Twas an even greater comfort knowing his sword and ability to lead and train men would protect them all.
Bits of gold were found in the stream at the southern border, but it took a considerable amount of time and effort. As James had suspected, they could not rely on the gold for a steady source of income to maintain the estate.
Uncle Fergus had made a half-hearted effort to repay them for his dead wife’s crimes, but Davina had wanted something more precious than coin—her independence. Her uncle had reluctantly agreed with her demand that the keep no longer be considered part of clan Armstrong. Instead, they were aligned with clan McKenna, though she and James were free to make any decisions regarding their property without first consulting his father, the laird. It was an arrangement that suited them best.
Word of Isobel’s deeds and madness proved to be great fodder for gossip, but her death was an unexpected boon for Joan. Archibald Fraser was appalled by his mother-in-law’s actions. Fearing to pass her madness on to his offspring, he set Joan aside, declaring his intentions to divorce her. He disowned their son, allowing Joan to take the lad to Armstrong Castle, where she now lived and ruled as mistress.
“Why have ye left our bed, wife?” called a husky voice.
The familiar voice rumbled through her and Davina turned. James was sprawled on his stomach, his head resting on a pillow, staring at her from the bed. The covers rode low on his hips and she could see a tantalizing view of the muscles in his arms, back, and shoulders.
Her stomach did a little flip. Even from this angle, he was a fine specimen of a Highland warrior, everything that she had ever wanted. And he was all hers.
She returned to his side and cuddled beside him. He nuzzled her temple, then kissed her brow. His arms tightened and she smiled at the sweetness of his embrace. His fingers moved down her arm in a lazy stroke, a hypnotic caress that left her feeling safe and secure.
“How is my son on this fine morning?” he asked, placing his hand gently on her rounded stomach.
“Yer son—or daughter—is sleeping quietly inside me.”
She grinned as a wave of contentment washed through her. The love she felt for James seemed to grow more and more each day and there were times she struggled to find the words to tell him how much.
Thinking of it now brought an inner glow to her heart. She turned her head to look up at him and he kissed her, long and deep, his hands moving down to her thighs. Those sensual, wandering fingers were starting to distract her. She allowed it for a few moments, then stopped him with a quick kiss, pulling away.
James let out an exaggerated groan. He rolled onto his back and put his arms behind his head. “Ye look tired, love. Come back to bed.”
She gave him a wry smile. “If I return to that bed, I doubt I’ll be doing much sleeping.”
“How is that wrong?”
“We’ve much to do.”
“Och, ye’re a cruel woman, Davina. Leaving our bed after giving me one miserly kiss.”
She laughed at the petulance in his voice. He sounded so aggrieved. “I cannae laze the day away in bed with ye, husband. Have ye forgotten we start the shearing today?”
James sat up quickly. “Ye’re not going to be helping.”
“I’m with child, James. Not infirmed. I feel wonderful. The nausea and weakness are completely gone, just as the midwife said.”
“Ye fainted.”
“Once, James. I fainted once, nearly two months ago.”
“I worry fer ye and our babe.”
“And I love ye for it.” Oddly enough, the ferocity of his voice made her feel cherished. She returned to his side, sitting on the edge of the bed.
James wrapped her in his arms, pulling her back so she leaned into him. “My mother told me that I must make certain to treat ye tenderly and with great care.”
“Ye do, James, even when I’m not carrying our child.” She framed his face in her hands and kissed him lovingly, reverently. “But ye must not smother me with so much constant kindness or else I’ll go mad.”
“There’s no need fer ye to be at the shearing. The shepherds know their duties and I trust they will work hard, if only to please ye,” James said.
“I want to make certain every bit of wool is shaved and collected,” Davina said as she pulled an old gown from the trunk and began to dress. “The fleece will be spun into wool, then weaved into cloth. We paid an exorbitant price for good wool last year; this year I intend to be the one selling, not buying.”
James studied her from the bed while she dressed, but made no further attempts to lure her back. By the time Davina had finishing dressing, James had also risen. On her way down to the great hall she met a sleepy-looking Colin going up, carrying a pitcher of hot water James required each morning to wash.
By the time she arrived, the hall was already bustling with hungry workers eating their fill. After checking with the cook that all was in order, Davina joined them. She ate quickly, enjoying each bite of her oatcakes, smothered in honey, then gulped a goblet of tangy buttermilk, pleased that she was able to keep down her meal, unlike the early months of her pregnancy when just the smell of food would make her stomach churn.
The bailey was filled with a restless excitement as the sheep were herded into pens to be shorn. For the most part, she and James observed, offering an opinion when asked. By the late afternoon impressive piles of wool dotted an entire section of the bailey.
As old Mangus had warned, the ewes were visibly anxious, having gone from a full thick winter wool coat to almost nothing. A sheep without her fleece looked naked, but the lambs would have an easier time finding the udder on a shorn ewe. And there would be many lambs in a few weeks, Davina was pleased to see, as so many of the sheep were pregnant.
Though she would never admit it to James, the day’s activities had left her feeling tired. Deciding that a short nap before the evening meal would be most welcome, Davina began making her way inside.
But a sudden commotion at the gate caught her attention. She shielded her eyes, tensing when she saw an unknown group of knights on horseback crowding the open portcullis.
James was instantly at her side, placing a soothing hand on her shoulder. His touch brought her an instant sense of calm. There was no need to be fearful—James would protect them.
One man broke from the group and entered the bailey. He came within a few yards of them before reining in his horse and dismounting. Then he removed his helmet and shook out his dark hair, which hung in waves down to his shoulders.
Her fear momentarily forgotten, Davina stared at his extraordinarily handsome face with its proud chin and angular jaw. As her gaze roamed his sculpted features, she realized that while she could appreciate his good looks, they did not call to her the way James’s did.
The stranger approached and when he was near enough, James astonished her by taking his hand off his sword hilt and reaching out his arm. The man grasped it and they locked arms, their muscles bulging as they held tightly to each other.
“My God, Gideon, is it really ye?” James asked.
“Aye, James. I thought the Scottish soil had opened and swallowed you whole, but then heard you were living out here,” Gideon answered.
The two men laughed.
“Come, meet my lady wife.” James’s chest and shoulders puffed out with pride as he brought her forward. “Davina, this ugly cur is Sir Gideon Croft, a brother Crusader.”
Sir Gideon executed a faultless, courtly bow. “I can see that you have made a conquest of this rogue. Well done, milady.”
Davina smiled, deciding that she liked the affable Sir Gideon. “I assure ye,’tis a mutual affection.”
“James always did have the best damn luck when it came to the ladies.”
“Oh, really?” Davina looked between the two men with gre
at interest. “Do tell me more.”
“Pay no heed to this glib-tongued rouge. Have ye come looking fer a position?” James asked, hastily changing the subject. “I’ve a solid contingent of warriors, but would gladly make room fer a knight with yer skills.”
Looking pensive, Sir Gideon surveyed the desolate landscape, but when he turned back, Davina caught a fleeting furrow in his brow.
“There are some advantages to living in such a remote area,” she said.
A blush of red covered Sir Gideon’s cheeks. “I mean no disrespect, milady. ’Tis a fine holding.”
“No need to make a decision right now,” James said cheerfully. “Once given, the offer remains, if and when ye ever decide it would suit ye.”
Sir Gideon seemed relieved. “I’m on my way to a tournament in the south. The purse is enough to tempt any knight, though I see it will take more than coin to pry you away from your lady.”
“I’ve more riches than I can count right here,” James said, pulling Davina into his arms and kissing her soundly.
His open, uninhibited affection made Davina’s heart race almost as much as his sensual kiss. Still, she wanted to maintain some dignity and decorum in front of their guest, so she reluctantly pulled away from her amorous husband. Though she continued to tightly hold his hand.
“I’ve other news to share with you, James,” Sir Gideon said as they entered the great hall. “It concerns your family, specifically your brother, Malcolm.”
James stilled. “Is he in danger?”
“Possibly.” Sir Gideon glanced pointedly at her, clearly reluctant to say more.
“Ye can speak freely in front of Davina. It will save me the trouble of recalling all the details of this conversation later.”
Though he said it with a grin, Davina could feel the tension grip James’s shoulders as they leaned in to listen.
“We took shelter with the MacPhearsons on our journey here. The laird was in a fit of temper, as he had just discovered his daughter had given birth to a bastard son. He claims that Malcolm McKenna fathered the babe and has vowed vengeance upon Malcolm for daring to dishonor his kin.”
“’Tis a lie,” James said vehemently.
“Malcolm would never treat a lass so cruelly,” Davina interjected, her voice rising with indignity. “And he most certainly wouldn’t abandon his child.”
“There’s more.” Compassion filled Sir Gideon’s eyes. “Laird MacPhearson has put a price upon Malcolm’s head, promising a tidy sum to any man who captures him and brings him before the MacPhearson council to face justice.”
“God’s teeth, every scoundrel in the Highlands who hears of this will be hunting my brother,” James said.
“True.” Sir Gideon nodded. “You need to warn Malcolm to be on guard.”
“Malcolm needs to do more than that,” James declared. “He needs to confront the MacPhearsons and clear his name. I’ll write a missive with this news tonight. Will ye deliver it fer me, Gideon?”
“Nay, James,” Davina said, her mouth forming a tight line. “This news is too important to trust to a letter. Ye must ride to McKenna Castle yerself and tell Malcolm what ye’ve learned.”
James shook his head, lowering his hand protectively over her burgeoning belly. “I cannae leave ye, Davina.”
In spite of the tension swirling in the air, Davina managed a soft laugh. “Fie, James, our babe is not due fer several months. The journey there and back from McKenna Castle will take less than a month’s time.”
A slight frown formed between his brows. “Are ye trying to get rid of me?”
“Aye. I need some peace from having ye pestering me day and night to rest and eat well. Last week I sneezed three times and ye insisted that I stay in bed all afternoon.”
Sir Gideon laughed. “I always believed that when James gave his love to a woman, it would be with his whole being.”
“He’s done that and more. I am truly blessed. But a lass needs to breathe every now and again.”
James trailed his callused fingertips lightly over her face. “I dinnae wish to leave ye.”
She rested her forehead against his and sighed. “If I promise to miss ye every minute of every day, will ye go?”
“Reluctantly,” he agreed.
The heat of his body touched her skin and she sighed, savoring the joy of having him near. Her heart felt full, overflowing with both the love she felt for him and the love he gave so completely to her. Though teasing him, she knew that she would miss him dreadfully while he was gone. But thanks to him, she possessed the strength to endure it.
A smile twitched at her lips. She leaned close and whispered in his ear. “I love ye, James McKenna, and if ye behave yerself fer the rest of the day, I’ll be more than willing to show ye how much when we’re in our bed tonight.”
“Ye think to sweeten our separation with the promise of a wild bed romp?”
“I do.”
“Och, love, ye know me too well.”
Aye, she did, and she was more than glad of it.
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
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Copyright © 2016 by Adrienne Basso
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ISBN-13: 978-1-4201-3767-5
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The Highlander Who Loved Me Page 28
