Page 140 of Highlanders for the Holidays
“Aye, I have, m’laird.” Try as she might, she could not resist the urge to return his smile.
He gave an approving nod before motioning her forward. “Come, I wish to show ye somethin’.”
Cautiously—and out of habit more than any true fear of the man—she stepped forward.
He waved her to come around the desk to stand beside him.
“Do ye ken what this is?” he asked as he tapped a finger on one of the open pages.
“A book?” she answered, feeling rather silly for anyone could see ’twas a book. A very large and thick book.
“Aye, a book. But this be a verra special book.”
She waited silently for further explanation.
“This book be more than one hundred years old, and some of the pages within be even older,” he told her. “Since the day Clan MacCallen was formed, the chiefs have been enterin’ the names of their people. When they were born, who they were born to, who they married, any children they may have had, as well as the day they died.”
’Twas the entire history of their clan splayed out before him. He seemed quite proud of it, so she offered him a warm smile, not quite understanding why he was showing it to her.
With his index finger, he pointed to one entry in particular. “See?”
Aye, she could see it, but it didn’t mean she understood what the markings were. All at once, she felt uncomfortably embarrassed as a crimson blush burst from her neck to the top of her head. “I cannae read it,” she whispered.
He looked up with a furrowed brow. “Ye cannae read?”
She thought he sounded as surprised as he did disgusted, causing her embarrassment to deepen.
“Did yer parents nae teach ye?”
She gave a slight shake of her head. “Me mum showed me what me name looked like once, but that was a long time ago.”
’Twas his turn to look embarrassed. “I be sorry, Onnleigh. I forgot yer mum died.”
“I was five,” she told him, as if that explained fully her lack of education.
He turned his attention back to the markings on the page. “This be ye,” he said as he ran his finger under the markings. “Onnleigh, born to Claire and Grueber, May fourteen, year of our Lord, fourteen hundred aught seven.”
Her brow furrowed as she leaned in for a better look, as if that would somehow bring some clarity to the beautiful lines on the page. “That be when I was borned?” she asked.
He turned to face her, his face just inches from her own. Onnleigh noticed then, just how deep a green his eyes were. Dark, like summer grass. A tickling sensation formed in her stomach, one she’d felt only once before. That sensation had led her to where she now stood. It took a great deal of effort to look away, but she knew that she must. Standing upright, she made a silent promise not to stare at him again.
“Did ye nae celebrate the anniversary of yer birth?” he asked her. His voice sounded scratchy, as if he was quite thirsty.
Casting him a curious look, she said, “Nae, do ye?”
“Aye, we do. We celebrate many things here,” he told her. She could feel his eyes were still upon her.
“Such as?”
“Weddings and births throughout the year. And at the moment, we be readying for Yuletide,” his voice trailed away.
“I remember a Yule right before me mum passed,” she said as she tried to recall as much as she could about that time. “There was a big log ablaze in the fire. And I think I remember gettin’ a sweet cake.” ’Twas one of the very few happy memories she had from her childhood, even if it was fragmented and faded.
A long stretch of silence fell between them before Connor spoke again. “I want to add the babe’s name to the book.” He flipped through the pages until he found the one he was looking for. “But I dunnae ken what to call her.”
Onnleigh felt her chest tighten with fear. Did he know the truth?
A moment later, he turned to the babe in her arms and smiled fondly. “She be a beautiful lass, aye?”
