Page 40 of The Highlander's Virgin Widow
The maid swallowed. “He left after eating his breakfast.”
Keira narrowed her eyes. “He already ate his breakfast?”
“Aye, M’Lady,” the maid responded.
Keira shook her head. “We may nae be on the best of terms, but it shouldnae stop us from having at least breakfast and supper together, should it?” she asked, turning to Lesley, who was sipping from a cup of water.
“Aye,” Lesley uttered after downing the water. “I agree.”
Keira exhaled and rose from the table. “I shall go find him.”
She exited the dining hall, her mind racing with more questions.
He had just finished breakfast, and she knew from the brief moments she had spent with him so far that the last place he would be was his quarters. He was probably in the stables or the courtyard, training with his men. Wherever he was, she was determined to find him.
The cold morning mist enveloped her as she stepped out, her feet digging into the dewy grass, the cold a welcome sensation to the soles of her feet.
She hiked up the skirt of her dress and pressed her lips into a thin line, before moving across the courtyard, acknowledgingthe few people who stopped to greet her as they went either to the stables or the flour mill.
A sharp sound drifted to her ears, one she was rather quick to recognize. She would know a bleat from anywhere, and she quickly realized where it came from. As she moved closer, so did the realization crash harder into her. It was the same baby goat she had given to Evander.
Given.
She chuckled at how loosely she had used that term.
She hurried past the training men and toward the castle, her eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. The bleat grew louder, and she felt the sun rays kiss her face.
She stopped short as she came to the other side of the castle.
Crouched low before her just a few yards away, in nothing but a pair of trousers that hung loosely on his hips, was Evander.
The sun had only begun to rise, spilling a golden hue across the courtyard. The hue reflected well on Evander’s skin, more than she would have liked to admit.
She watched him drive a wooden post into the ground—what seemed to be the third post, as her eyes quickly landed on the first two. Then, her eyes flicked to the animal that rested beside him as he worked.
The goat.
His back still turned to her, he paused his work for the briefest of moments and turned to the goat. Then, he said something she couldn’t understand or hear clearly unless she moved closer.
But she was close enough, and the last thing she wanted to do was alert him of her presence.
The goat nuzzled him, wobbling on its slim legs. There was a strange gentleness in the way he worked, in the way he nailed the wooden planks to the posts to firmly secure them in place.
It was hard for her to believe. This man, who had managed to make her life a living hell ever since he took her castle, who she had thought had no mercy, had a gentle side.
This was the last thing she thought he would be doing with the goat. Orforthe goat, rather. She could tell just from the size of whatever it was he was building that it was going to be a home for the goat.
She moved even closer and continued to listen as attentively as she possibly could. Then and only then did she properly hear him, even though his words were punctuated by the soft bleats of the baby goat.
14
“’Tis alright, Thistle.”
Keira frowned.Thistle?Did he name the goat? And after a flower?
“We shall get yer house ready in nay time. Ye’ll see.”
Keira remained frozen by the wall, the morning sun unwavering across her face and his skin. He leaned forward to adjust one of the posts he had erected, and her eyes followed, no matter how hard she tried to stop them.
