Page 12 of A Highland Bride Taken
“Still, the lass was able to comfort the boys,” Magnus argued. “She didnae lie without reason. Why do ye dislike her so?”
For many reasons.
Mabel reminded Campbell of everything he was not: soft and warm. She radiated it from the depths of her being, and like a moth to a flame, he was drawn to her more than he liked. It was in the way she braved danger for those she loved, in her steadfastness to her word, and in the fact that she was not even aware of her appeal.
Her innocence was a honeycomb to him… he who had only known darkness. It made him want to corrupt her, to show her everything he knew, just to see if she would flee or draw closer.
He knew the lass had a penchant for danger and would no doubt draw closer, and oh, how tempted he was.
He remembered the sinful shape of her lips and the fire in her eyes, and resisted the urge to groan. He had never desired a woman as he desired the one who had him almost losing his control without applying seduction. She was trouble in a well-shaped body.
“I already said I didnae wish to speak about her,” he insisted gruffly. “How are Elspeth and little Poppy?”
Elspeth was Magnus’s wife and the castle’s healer, and they had been married for a little over ten years. Poppy was their eight-year-old daughter, and as mischievous as they came. She had everyone in the castle wrapped around her little fingers, with her cherubic face, but she still drove everyone crazy with her antics.
“They are well, as ye ken,” Magnus answered, disappointed but visibly struggling to hide his smile at the mention of his wife and daughter. “Poppy is starting to ask about boys. It gives me and her maither nay endless trouble.”
It brought warmth to Campbell’s heart to see the large man smiling because he was besotted with his wife. Even though it tugged at something within him, he didn’t mind.
He always felt a slight pang in his chest when he saw his friend as happy as he was, realizing he may never get to experience such bliss.
“Yet ye’re happy,” he mused.
“Nay. But I dare nae say it, or else she will cry me deaf.” Magnus frowned.
“Ye’re a good faither, Magnus,” Campbell praised. “Perhaps ye can help me with the boys.”
“Is that nae the reason why ye need a governess?”
“They are me kin, Magnus. I cannae let someone else care for them alone,” Campbell sighed. “They should ken me, but the very sight of me has them hiding. They’re terrified of me.”
“They are scarcely the only ones terrified of ye, Me Laird,” Magnus retorted with a pointed look. “Remember the incident with the maid a fortnight ago?”
Campbell winced and then shot his friend a glare for the unnecessary reminder. As if he would ever be able to forget how embarrassing it had been.
“That was an overreaction on her part,” he grumbled. “Why would she think I would behead her for bumping into me with a laundry basket piled so high that she couldnae see where she was going?”
“They dinnae ken ye have a benevolent side.”
“I tried to help her, but she nearly screamed me head off, crying for her life.”
It had taken him fetching his housekeeper, Norah, to calm the maid, and afterward she had run off as quickly as she could, still frightened.
Campbell had been saddened by the event because he had done naught to inspire such fear in his clan. He did his best to pass sound judgment and mete out fair punishment to offenders within his clan, and there had been no death sentences since he had assumed the Lairdship, yet they thought him a bloodthirsty monster.
He had hoped to see such a reaction from other clans who had tasted his blade and those who had attempted to raid his lands, but not from the people he had sworn to protect.
He recalled his interaction with MacLennan’s daughter and frowned when he remembered that she had been unafraid. She had even looked at him as though he was something to be intrigued by and not someone to evoke nightmares, and he told his man-at-arms as much.
“In a haystack of people who fear ye, she is a needle,” Magnus opined. “Ye have done well in protecting the clan, but that is all they ken ye to be—a warmonger. They respect yer strength and how ye have provided for them, but it has done nothing to assure them ye willnae turn yer blade on them. ‘Tis why ye havenae received many applications despite the large reward ye’ve offered.”
Hearing that troubled Campbell more than he would ever admit, and he was at a loss for how to rectify the situation. But he would be damned if he asked.
Magnus gave him a soft look, knowing him well enough to know that he was affected by his words.
“Ye’re a good man, Me Laird,” he murmured. “Ye just need to show it beyond provision and protection.” He rose and placed a comforting hand on Campbell’s shoulder.
“I dinnae ken how.”
