Tangled Hearts by Heather McCollum

Author:Heather McCollum [McCollum, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical, General, Contemporary
ISBN: 9781622663668
Google: XcRRAQAAQBAJ
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2014-01-28T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

11 April of the Year our Lord God, 1518

Dearest Kat,

Do not fret. I am honored by your news. John will think the babe is his, but when we rule, the child will be our heir. Perhaps I will finally have a son as Isabelle’s womb spouted only a daughter and I can no longer stomach her. You are the one I think about, my love. You calm my raging spirit.

Your Servant,

Rowland

“Cha… leig le.”

Dory woke slowly to the mumbled sound of a man’s voice. She blinked her eyes open to darkness. Where was she? Her only movement was her fingers under her pillow, finding the cool handle of her knife.

Even in the deep night of the room, she could see the little head lying on a pillow in front of her face. Moonlight penetrated the glassed windows. Charissa. Safe and asleep, she sighed, in their bed as the servant’s room would not be ready until the next day.

But that wasn’t the voice she’d heard.

“Shhh, lass, the wee one is sleeping.” Ewan’s low voice was deep and slow as if he, too, had just woken.

Dory stilled as Ewan’s arm pulled her body against his under the heavy blanket. Although he sounded drowsy, his body felt very much awake and ready for mischief. Her heartbeat thumped hard in her chest. She felt his lips touch her nape where her hair had been tucked away.

“You were talking in your sleep,” she murmured and felt him tense.

“What did I say?”

“It was in Gaelic.” She gently rolled toward him, but his face was in complete shadow.

“Just dreaming of the Highlands.” He kissed her forehead as he tucked her into him.

“You miss your home,” she whispered. He made a small sound that sounded like agreement. “Tell me about it.”

“’Tis rugged and raw, untainted by human waste. The flowers bloom across the green moors, the beinns are majestic, reaching the clouds, and the lochs glitter when the sun shows itself.”

“It sounds beautiful,” she said with a sinking feeling. “You love it.”

“It’s part of me, in my blood.” He spoke softly. “Sometimes it’s gentle and sweet but it holds passion and has a fierce temper.”

“Sounds like the sea.” She smiled, her cheek against his chest.

He paused for a long while. “I suppose it does. Except for the flowers.”

She laughed silently, only her body shaking. “Yes, except for the flowers. I’d like to see it someday.”

She caught her breath on an inhale of his scent. A long moment passed and she let her exhale seep out, disappointment heavy in her stomach.

“I can take ye there, Dory.”

Her senses reached out instantly. His breathing remained even, his muscles relaxed. No hint of a lie.

“I would like that,” she said, her voice just above a breath.

Like the gentle brush of a leaf fluttering against her lips, he leaned down and kissed her. So soft, but the heat of it ignited inside Dory. He pulled back. “Let’s try to get through this alive first. Now get some sleep.”

“No swiving tonight,” she teased.

“That requires privacy,” he answered though she knew he was thinking about it.

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