These people were good and kind, to be certain, but no one spoke to remember him. No one here knew him at all. They knew him only as Donal the Drunk, but Seana knew him as the most wonderful da any little girl could have known. Aye, he drank far too much and he passed out betimes and forgot to come home. And mayhap he hadn’t provided for Seana the way other fathers had, but Seana had always known he’d loved her, and he’d accepted her unconditionally.
She had been perfect in her da’s eyes—even when others had seen her as something pitiful. He hadn’t fixed her legs for himself because he was ashamed of her. He’d fixed her legs because Seana had begged him to.
“Will ye stay with me?” Meghan asked her, and Seana suspected that Colin had spoken to her about her home. She could see it in Meghan’s eyes, and yet… though pride made her want to refuse the offer, she couldn’t bear the thought of going back to that dark place all alone. Her father had made it a home. Now it was naught more than an overlarge pile of stones.
Seana nodded, and tried to thank her, but the words would not come.
“You’re welcome to stay as long as ye will, Seana.” She cast a glance at her brother, and then looked once more at Seana.
Tears stung Seana’s eyes, though she would not shed them.
Alison MacLean had come to pay Meghan a visit and stood at Meghan’s side as well, nodding her agreement. Seana didn’t know her, but the look in Alison’s eyes told Seana that Alison’s heart was as good and kind as Seana had always supposed. There were tears in her eyes, as well, though she hadn’t known her da at all.
With the last of the dirt shoveled and patted down, many of those who had come to pay respects began to wander away, giving her nods of condolence as they went… a few others, pats upon the arm. Colin stood there with his shovel in hand, leaning upon it, speaking low to Broc. The two of them talked at length together, about what Seana had no idea.
“If there is aught I can do,” Alison added.
Seana nodded in appreciation and tried to be brave in front of so many strangers.
“I shall be fine,” she assured them both.
Alison cast a glance at Broc. “Meghan told me how you feel about him,” she offered, “and I think he’s a fine man. It speaks well for him that he came to comfort you o’er the loss o’ yer da.”
It was kind of him, to be sure. He had always been there to help Seana when she had needed him. His presence this morning didn’t surprise her, but neither did it comfort her… as Colin’s did.
It was Colin who held Seana’s gaze more oft than not, and Colin who cast her reassuring glances while he worked beside Broc and Piers. It was Colin she yearned to have comfort her now. Colin’s arms she wanted to run to.
If he offered them now, and called her without words, Seana thought she would cast herself at him without the least hesitation, and crumble into his embrace. She yearned for him at her side and felt most reassured when he met her glance.
“I know what will cheer you,” Alison announced, and reached out to take her hand to pull her away.
“Oh, but I should stay,” Seana protested and resisted as Alison tried to drag her away. A very practical woman, Seana knew it was pointless to remain here weeping all day long when life must go on, but she needed to be near Colin. She didn’t dare say so, but she didn’t wish to leave him.
“Come,” Meghan demanded, and her tone brooked no argument. “We’ll visit together and sup soon. God’s truth it willna do ye any good to stay here.”
Seana relented, and let them take her away, but not without turning and seeking out Colin’s gaze.
He was watching her, and when she met his eyes, he smiled softly. Seana could not tear her gaze away; she held his eyes until she could no longer and they fell out of sight over the hill.
“Broc will not leave without bidding you farewell,” Alison promised, tugging at her hand.
But it wasn’t Broc she wished to see.
It was Colin.
Her heart cried out for Colin.
“’Tis the fashion of English women,” Alison was saying, as she covered Seana’s face with powder that made Seana sneeze.
“It feels like mud,” she said, wrinkling her nose as she reached up to feel the texture upon her fingers. Her face was soft, and finding it so surprised her. It felt as though her skin had weathered a decade of drought, and had half expected to find it cracked and parched.
“Close your eyes,” Alison demanded of her next. Seana hesitated, casting her a wary glance. Alison thrust her finger into a small pouch and withdrew it now with some black substance upon her fingertips. “They say men cannot resist a woman with a painted face,” Alison told her.
Seana wasn’t certain she wanted any man who needed her to cover her face with paint. She frowned at that thought, and Meghan smiled at her, and winked.
Seana closed her eyes, and Alison smeared the black ash around her eyes.
“Och, but you’ll be lovely!” Alison exclaimed.
“She is lovely,” Meghan assured her. “Any man would be a fool not to want you!”
Seana’s heart twisted a bit, for Colin had said the very same thing to her.
Next, Alison removed from her pouch something that looked to Seana like dried blood. Seana panicked as Alison’s hand drew near and she caught her wrist.
“Och, what is that?”
“For your lips and cheeks,” Alison disclosed, and Seana had this sudden vision of herself looking like a court fool.
“Aye, but what is it?”
Alison peered curiously at Meghan, questioning her.
Meghan shrugged. “I dunno,” she confessed, “but it was in the trunk Piers gave me that was filled with silk cloth.”
Seana swallowed and decided to trust them.
Meghan continued to smile, however, and Alison looked so pleased to be helping that Seana let her come near with the red paint. “I wonder what virgin was sacrificed for that,” she muttered beneath her breath.
“What did ye say?” Alison asked, preoccupied with her task.
Seana lifted brows that were stiff with drying paint. “I said… thank you for the time you’re taking to help me,” she fibbed, but Meghan had heard her, and began to giggle.
Her laughter was infectious and soon she had Seana giggling as well.
“If he doesna wish to kiss ye now with these ripe berry lips, I think he is a silly fool,” Alison declared.
Seana only hoped Colin didn’t laugh at her.
She suddenly didn’t care much what Broc thought. She no longer had a reason to wed with him, and didn’t have the heart to tell Meghan and Alison that they were wasting their time.
She didn’t need a man to care for her. She had her pot still and she knew how to brew. She could take care of herself just fine.
“There!” Alison declared and stepped back from her masterpiece.
Seana held Meghan’s gaze, waiting for her reaction, but Meghan merely tilted her head and said quietly, “Oh my.”
Seana wasn’t sure what that meant precisely. There was little about her expression that gave away her thoughts.
“Colorful,” she said, and smiled.
“Like a butterfly newly burst from her cocoon!” Alison declared.
Seana felt like she was about to burst all right, and she would have wiped away the mess upon her face at once, save that she didn’t wish to hurt Alison’s MacLean’s feelings. She rather thought by Meghan’s carefully bland expression that Meghan felt the same as Seana about Alison’s labors, so Seana merely smiled appreciatively and thanked Alison.
“You’re verra welcome!” Alison told her with a wink. “Broc willna be able to resist you!” she promised. “Just wait and see.”
Seana could scarce bear the thought. She smiled wanly and hoped again that Colin wouldn’t laugh when he saw her.
She needed a hug.
She needed her da, too, but that was impossible now, and it terrified her that the person she was most attached to now was Colin Mac Brodie.<
br />
He had broken her heart once, and he could do it again. He might not intend to but he was certainly capable of it. All she needed to remind her of that fact was to examine the trail of broken hearts he’d left in his wake.
Keep yer distance, Seana, she warned herself. Colin Mac Brodie’s heart belonged only to himself.
Perhaps he was not the cruel, selfish boy she recalled, but he was not about to open his heart and pledge eternal love either—certainly not to the poor daughter of a uisge brewer.
Chapter 21
Seana appreciated all that Meghan had done for her. Although her kinfolk had not known Seana’s da, Meghan bade them all take a day of mourning in respect for him and for Seana. And though Seana knew very well they hadn’t known her da enough to shed a single tear for him, seeing their show of respect somehow soothed her.
She left the manor, filled with people, to come outdoors and find a moment’s solitude to reflect upon the day’s events.
She had always supposed her da would die some day and that she alone would be the one to bury him and to mourn him.
Having braced herself for his death long ago had not made the reality of it any easier. Colin’s presence and comfort, and Meghan’s care, had been the keys to keeping her sanity today. Meghan had told her a thousand times, if once, that she was brave, but she was not. Inside she felt terrified and alone. For the first time in Seana’s life… she was truly alone.
The night was foggy but warm and she slipped away, into the mist, unobserved. No one would miss her, she was certain. Two of Meghan’s maids were flirting with Colin and Meghan was deep in conversation with Alison, who had decided to remain overnight rather than venture home in the fog. Her da, she had said, would understand, and would wish her to remain safe with Meghan rather than endanger herself on the path home.
At that thought, Seana allowed herself a moment of self-pity. At least Alison had someone waiting at home who would miss her… and soon… she would have Leith… and lots of little children… little boys, mayhap, who would bear resemblance to her father… who would carry on his legacy and make everyone proud.
Her da had not lived, even, to see his grandchildren—not that Seana would for certain have any. Right now it didn’t appear that she would. She was suddenly without heart, and Broc Ceannfhionn didn’t seem to stir it at all.
Broc had long gone, mumbling apologies and something about his cousin Cameron and his dog, and Seana had had no idea what the devil he was talking about, nor had she had the wherewithal to ask.
She found a secluded spot in the field before the Montgomerie manor and sat upon the grass.
Seana had no notion how long she sat there, brooding. It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours.
The moon above shone bright, but the night clouds veiled its light. All about her mist swirled, like the twirling hems of dresses…
Any other night it might have seemed eerie but not tonight. Tonight she needed the cloak.
Her heart felt both heavy and as though it beat too fast… as though it couldn’t quite decide whether to stop or go on. She swallowed hard and looked up at the stars… so vast… that sky… almost as though it went on for an eternity.
She began to sing…
O’er Coolins face the night is creeping The banshee’s wail is round us sweeping.
Blue eyes in Duin are dim with weeping Since thou art gone and ne’er returning…
It was a song her da had sung to her as a wee one, only the look in his eyes had been wistful and Seana had known he’d been singing for her mother. Well, he was with her now, and she hoped the two of them could hear her song… and know she was well.
The song soothed her and she continued, her voice soft in the night…
The breeze of the bens is gently blowing.
The brooks in the glens are softly flowing.
Where boughs their darkest shades are throwing,
Birds mourn for thee who’s ne’er returning…
Colin had followed her out from the hall, but with the mist so thick tonight he’d lost her.
He heard her before he saw her, and followed the sound of her song. Her voice was so sad, but there was a strength in her that he admired and loved.
He found her seated upon the meadow and might have missed her entirely except that her song, like a siren’s melody, lured him. The night mist surrounded her, enfolded her, curled around her like a lover’s embrace.
“Seana?”
Starting at the sound of his voice, she stopped singing and turned to look up at him, her eyes wide.
“I dinna mean to frighten ye,” he said.
She took a gasping breath, giving lie to her words. “You did not.”
“I thought ye might need some company,” Colin offered, and hoped it were so. Never in his life had he known a woman so independent from any man.
She nodded, and turned back to the stars, giving him her back. Colin came to her side and sat beside her. His knee inadvertently touched her thigh and he held his breath, hoping she wouldn’t ask him to move it. He felt like he had when he’d been but a lad with his first affection—excited and nervous to be beside her—as though she were the first woman he had ever touched.
His heart beat a little faster.
“I know ye miss him, lass.” His mouth felt too dry suddenly even to speak. He felt foolish and perhaps a bit guilty at the thought of becoming aroused simply by her presence, when she obviously didn’t see him as a lover, and she was in mourning besides.
She was probably completely oblivious to him—she certainly acted it—and it was the first time in his life he had ever felt so invisible to a woman.
He didn’t like it.
“You look lovely in that dress,” he said, and didn’t like the way his voice trembled, betraying him.
She turned to face him, with those beautiful green eyes and luscious lips… and he wanted to reach out and wipe away every trace of powder and lip tint his sister and Alison had marked upon her body. She didn’t need it. Her face was perfection in his eyes.
“Och!” she exclaimed, and must have sensed his thoughts because she averted her gaze suddenly, staring at her lap, where she wrung her hands. “I feel silly,” she confessed. “I did not wish to hurt Alison’s feelings but I feel silly to be painted so lavishly.”
Colin smiled at her. “You surely do not need it.”
She shrugged. “Alison said it would make me irresistible to Broc.”
“Hmmmm,” Colin said, and grinned. “Let’s see.” He moved closer, pretending to inspect her face, aware of her every breath, her every gesture. He took in a breath and captured her scent, drawing it into his lungs, savoring it. His eyes closed. He’d meant to tease her, to come close and then to… he didn’t know what he’d intended… only that it felt too good to breathe in her scent… and he never wanted to stop.
His body shook with desire, but he forced composure, lest he push her down into the grass and make love to her this very moment. She didn’t want it—didn’t want him, he reminded himself.
She wanted Broc.
His gut wrenched at the very thought.
He peered up at her to find that she was watching him warily.
“Well?”
Colin blinked innocently at her. “Well what?”
“Quite resistible, I think,” she concluded, when he didn’t move toward her. She laughed softly and need clawed his loins.
His grin turned crooked. He couldn’t help it. He was a rogue at heart, and he was too old to deny it.
“Aye, but that scent…” He sniffed the air. “Now that is enough to make a man stupid with lust.”
Her sweet brows drew together in confusion. “What scent? They used no scents on me.”
Colin sniffed the air again, teasing her. “Surely they must have.”
“Nay!” she swore when he got upon his hands and knees and played like a puppy, sniffing the air around her.
She giggled and it encouraged him. He wanted to hear her
laughter, see her smile. He lunged at her, sniffing her ribs, and she shrieked in momentary alarm.
She threw out her hands, but didn’t push him away. Colin continued to sniff her… moving to her neck.
“Colin Mac Brodie!” she protested. “What are you doing?”
“I canna seem to help myself,” he confessed, nudging her back against the grass with his nose.
Her laughter escalated. “That tickles! Och, Colin Brodie what are you doing!”
Falling in love with her, that was what he was doing.
Deeply and madly in love, and he couldn’t resist.
She fell back against the dewy grass, giggling, and it did his heart good to hear it.
Like a hunter with his quarry, he sensed her vulnerability and moved over her, trapping her beneath him. He wasn’t going to fight fairly. He knew how to woo a woman, knew how to please her and he wasn’t going to lose her without a fight. He could make her happy, if only she would let him.
He wanted the chance to do that more than he wanted even to breathe.
He grinned down on her as she laughed.
Her hands were on his shoulders now, keeping him at bay, pushing him gently away, though without real intent. Colin refused to budge and then she stopped pushing at all, leaving those long, lean fingers upon his skin… taunting him…
She stopped laughing abruptly, and he heard her intake of breath, a startled gasp, as though only now realizing their position.
His body hardened, though he tried to keep his lust restrained.
Seana peered up at him, startled to find herself beneath Colin so easily. Her heart began to pound, the sound like drums in the night. His skin was hot to the touch where her fingers met flesh, and she held her breath at the sensations that spiraled through her with the realization.
His blue eyes were luminous by the moonlight, piercing her heart, his hair silvery. It spilled, like molten gold, against her, caressing her face. His skin was pale against the darker beard that had begun to grow, making his face appear all the more chiseled.
Highland Brides 03 - On Bended Knee Page 17
