Bride of the Isle by Maguire Margo

Author:Maguire, Margo [Maguire, Margo]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-03-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Cristiane had very little personal experience with children, though she’d seen plenty of them at play in St. Oln. Meg Sutton did not know the first thing about playing.

She’d come down the trail to the waterfall, followed Cristiane behind the sheet of falling water and stood staring at it. Cristiane was certain that any other child would have stepped closer and put out her hand to reach into the curtain of water.

“Come, Meggie,” Cristiane said. She pushed up her sleeve and tested the water, indicating that Meg should do the same.

The child followed suit finally, giving a squeal and jumping back when the cold water hit her. Cristiane was afraid at first that the experience had been too shocking, but one look at Meg’s face told her the lass was delighted. True, her stance and expression remained tightly controlled, but there could be no doubt that she had enjoyed it.

Cristiane breathed a sigh of relief.

“Come back,” she cried happily. “’Tis only cold. ’Twill not hurt you, though you might get a wee bit wet.”

Meg stepped closer to Cristiane, grabbing hold of her skirt. Then she put her hand into the stream of water again, and laughed aloud.

“’Tis wonderful, is it not?” Cristiane asked.

Meg nodded, her face a mirror of joy. The significance of this response was not lost on Cristiane. She hardly knew Margaret, but she was aware of Adam’s worries regarding his daughter. She’d been locked up with grief, and it seemed that she was starting to let it go.

“I know you can speak, lass,” Cristiane said, laughing. She threw her head back. “Say, ‘This is wonderful!’”

Meg ducked her head shyly, but Cristiane swooped down and picked her up, swirling her around behind the waterfall, making them both laugh heartily, their voices echoing off the rocky walls.

“Wonder-ful!” Meg cried.

“I knew you would love it,” Cristiane said, letting her down. “Shall we take off our shoes and get our feet wet?”

Without speaking, Meg reached down and unlaced her shoes. She pulled each one off and tossed it away from the falls, then stepped up to Cristiane to take her hand.

There was no point in remaining at the pond, so Adam walked painfully back to the keep. He had to believe Cristiane would keep his daughter safe—and he hoped that whatever effect Cristiane was having on Margaret would continue.

Aware that naught but a hot soak would improve the condition of his leg, he climbed slowly to his own chamber in the north tower, after giving orders for a hot bath to be made ready for him. He would heat the tortured scar sufficiently to relax, then rub in some of the ointment Sara had made for him.

Sometimes it actually worked.

Adam entered his chamber and walked to the open window. The sky was overcast, but there was no rain yet. He unfastened his tunic and pulled it off, then removed the light linen undertunic while he waited for the footmen to bring in the tub and hot water.

His saddle pack lay in a corner near the bed, and Adam suddenly remembered the ribbons for Margaret.

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