Page 115 of Laird of Flint
And reassured about his love.
She was reluctant to admit it. But being away from Hew for a fortnight had left her troubled by doubt. They’dknowneach other for less than a fortnight. Did he truly care for her? Or would time apart diminish his affection? What if absence made him forget her altogether?
Now, as he cradled her against his shoulder, she felt secure again, as if he’d never left.
Chapter 21
Hew held her close to his throbbing heart.
“I love ye,” she mumbled against his chest.
That was how he knew Carenza was The One. What made her different from every other lass.
It was a sorry truth. One he’d only just realized. But no woman he’d ever courted had said those words so readily. It was always Hew who dove in head first. Hew who bared his heart. Hew who committed unreservedly to the relationship.
Indeed, he often frightened ladies off with the intensity of his devotion. As he’d learned often with lovemaking, women required time and patience. They were usually slower to arouse. And they never fell as fast or as far in love as he did. It seemed they preferred to dangle their hearts on a string, the way one teased a cat.
But Carenza had a passion and depth that matched his own. Though they’d known each other a short time, they’d fallen completely in love. And he didn’t want that love to end.
“I love you too,” he replied, snuggling her closer.
“I wish we could run away this instant.”
“Me as well.”
She turned her head to gaze up at him. “Do ye think your mother and father will like me?”
“They’ll love you.”
It was true. Even though she had none of his mother’s warrior skills, Helena would respect Carenza. She had inner strength and a wee bit of deviousness that his mother would appreciate. As for his father, Carenza’s charm and brilliance would win him over. Colin admired anyone with whom he could cross wits.
“Will your laird approve?” she asked.
“Aunt Deirdre? She’ll just be relieved you’re not English.”
“I want to meet them,” she decided.
“I want you to meet them.”
“When?”
He loved her eagerness. But he had to finish his mission.
“As soon as I catch the thief. Och, bloody hell!” he said, holding her at arm’s length as he suddenly remembered why he’d come to the physician’s quarters. “I didn’t tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
He glanced around the small chamber for the first time. It served as the physician’s apothecary. Most of it consisted of shelves lined with vials and jars, vessels of clay and wooden boxes, with labels identifying their contents. Dried flowers and herbs hung in one corner, and various desiccated frogs and fish dangled from another. Between them was squeezed a low, sagging pallet. Peris probably slept here to guard his precious potions.
“I need to search this room,” he said.
Her interest piqued, she raised her brows as she realized, “He’s at Kildunan.”
“He’s at Kildunan.”
She wasted no time. While he fastened up his trews, she began searching the shelves. “What are we lookin’ for?”
“Something. Anything.” He began searching the second set of shelves. “I have a feeling they’ve been stealing more than just church artifacts.”
