DevilsHeart (20 page)

He picked up the package of herbs as she stood. “I will secure
this in your satchel.”

She nodded, silencing the shame that arose. She was only
protecting her chances of going home, after all. She had nothing to feel guilty
about.

But then he slipped her hand into his and squeezed it,
sending a pleasing chill of delight through her skin, before leading her toward
the door. Remorse wormed its way back into her. Her eyes turned watery and she
swiped at them with the back of her hand before he had the chance to turn
around and see something was wrong.

Rathe’s men were ready and waiting in the courtyard when
Leah and Rathe exited the keep. Rathe tousled Alec’s hair and chucked Isabella
under the chin before he and Galen clasped each other’s forearms, speaking in
low tones in Gaelic.

Anna pulled Leah into her arms and gave her a warm hug. “It
was wonderful meeting you, Leah. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to know
someone like me is nearby. You must come visit. Please? It will be a while
before I can go anywhere.”

Leah laughed and nodded. “I will. Thank you for all you’ve
done. I don’t think I could ever repay you.”

Anna pulled back and looked her in the eye. “Just give him a
chance,” she whispered. “Not just for his sake, but yours too. Regret is a
bitch.”

Leah gave her a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll think about it.”

Anna released her and placed a small ceramic pot into her
hand. “Here. Some honey salve for your and Rathe’s stitches. Make sure you
clean and re-bandage his arm tonight. If it starts to feel hot or reddens, send
word to me. Infections are not something to mess with, especially here.”

Leah nodded. A heavy, folded-up piece of paper shifted
beneath the container.

Anna placed her hand over the pot and raised her brows. “The
recipe,” she whispered. “I’ve not met anyone here who can read English, so you
should be safe if you’re discovered with it. But you should commit it to memory
and burn it at the earliest chance, just in case.”

A hand slid across Leah’s lower back and she jumped.

“Ready, love?” Rathe murmured into her ear.

His breath heated her skin, sending a shiver down her spine
to clash with the unwelcome guilt still plaguing her. She nodded and gave
Anna’s hand a squeeze just as something nudged her head from behind.

She turned to find Bran bowing his head before her. He
nuzzled her hand and she laughed in delighted surprise, scratching him under
the chin.

Rathe chuckled in her ear. “I have competition for your
attentions now, eh?”

She gave him a brief sideways glance, a shy smile playing
across her lips as she turned her gaze back to Bran. Resisting the urge to
berate herself once again for no flirty comebacks, she relaxed into her silence
and swayed toward Rathe until her shoulder hit his chest.

He tucked her hair behind her ear and bent to place a quick
kiss at the corner of her mouth before assisting her up onto Bran’s back. He
handed her the reins and then crooked his finger at her, motioning her to lean
down toward him.

Thinking he wanted to tell her something, she gave him her
ear. But then he grabbed her jaw and turned her until her mouth pressed into
his. Undemanding, slow and drugging, the comfort and warmth of his lips buzzed
through her skin. Whoops and laughter arose from the men around them, sending
the heat of her blood to her cheeks.

Rathe pulled away, an arrogant grin plastered to his face. He
threw her a seductive wink before swaggering over to his own horse. In one,
graceful movement, he settled himself into the saddle and guided his steed over
to her.

She dared a peek at Anna and Galen. Anna had crossed her
arms and now sported an I-told-you-so smirk. Galen, who’d been as unreadable as
a rock ever since Leah met him the day before, remained just as stone-faced as
ever. Leah tore her gaze back to Bran’s mane, failing at all attempts to keep a
smile from forming on her lips.

Rathe patted her thigh, gaining her attention. “Time to go
home, lass.”

Home.

Leah trailed her gaze up from the base of the dark,
formidable stone keep up to the roofline. The dying light of the day cast
imposing, cold shadows across the structure’s surface. Increasing numbers of
eyes weighed upon her. Her stomach churned. Oh God, what had she gotten herself
into?

With a gentle tug, Rathe pulled Bran’s reins out of her
grasp and handed them to a young man off to the side. He pulled her hand up to
his lips and pressed a light kiss into the backs of her fingers.

One word fell in a whisper from his lips. “Finally.”

The air left her lungs in a rush, her head spiraling with
strange, barely connected thoughts. Swords. Blood. Faceless children. Hot tea.

She was supposed to spend her
life
here?

“
Dadaidh!
” came a small voice from somewhere in the
crowd.

And all at once the thoughts stilled, her vision focusing on
a small girl of about five years of age in a blue shift dress running toward
them as fast as her little legs would carry her. Her black curls bounced in
wild abandon around her cherubic face.

Rathe released Leah’s hand and caught the girl, who leapt up
at him without any obvious fear she might not be saved from falling to the
ground. He swung her up into the air and she giggled until she was secured in
his arms.

Dadaidh?
Daddy.

Daddy.

Leah had heard that right, hadn’t she? She caught the little
girl’s eyes as she laid her head upon Rathe’s shoulder. She smiled at Leah, her
green eyes twinkling with pleasure.

Leah smiled back, attempting the most placid facial
expression she could muster. There was no mistaking the relationship between
the two. Hair color, eye color, smile. Only the girl’s features were more
delicate, her skin paler than her father’s.

Her father.
Why had Rathe not mentioned this? With
all of the talk about him needing a son, it hadn’t entered Leah’s mind that he
could be a father already.

Damn it, Rathe.

He didn’t talk about himself unless she asked him a question
and she didn’t ask many questions of anyone, preferring not to pry. In truth,
they’d spent little time alone together except when they were having sex. Even
if she’d gotten over her fear of prying, there were always people around them
and little opportunity for her to satisfy her curiosity about the man holding
her in a strange sexual enthrallment from which she had no desire to escape.

Rathe kissed the top of the child’s head and said something
in Gaelic. The girl nodded and slid to the ground, turning her large eyes up to
Leah.

She curtseyed in front of Leah. “
Halò.
”

Leah repeated the greeting and there was a pause as the two
stared at one another.

Rathe crouched down next to the girl and spoke, looking up
at Leah as he finished. Any useful understanding of the Gaelic language, though
now familiar to her ears, still eluded her. She could only pick up words and
phrases here and there and only if the speaker slowed his or her elocution. But
one word he’d spoken stuck in her head. She’d heard it before, but it didn’t
hit her until the girl’s face lit up as Leah repeated it.

“
Mamaidh?
”

Mommy.

Oh. Shit.

Rathe stood and tilted his face as he studied Leah. “This is
my—”

“Daughter,” Leah breathlessly stated, her heart fluttering.
“Your daughter. I—”

“She is called Màiri.”

“You have a daughter.”

He nodded, drawing a hand down Leah’s back until it rested
on her waist. “I did not tell you. I should have.”

The warmth of his touch soothed her, drawing some of the
tension from her body. A soft, little hand slipped into hers. Màiri gazed up at
her in open curiosity.

“
Tha thu brèagha.
” She smiled, her lids fluttering up
at Leah and melting her heart.

“
Gu dearbh
,” he replied, giving Leah’s waist a gentle
squeeze. “She called you beautiful. And she is right.” He leaned in and placed
a kiss on Leah’s temple.

Leah’s lips parted but no words came out. A tumult of
thoughts and emotions whirled through her. This was getting complicated. It was
one thing to contemplate leaving Rathe, as gut-wrenching as it might be, in one
year’s time if it meant a safe, comfortable life in the twenty-first century.
But now there was a child holding her hand. A child who had just called her
“Mommy”.

A chubby blond toddler in a brown shift made his way out of
the crowd and slipped his hand into Màiri’s. He sucked on the fingers of his
other hand and lifted wide, nutmeg-colored eyes up to Leah and Rathe.

Rathe gave the boy a warm smile and tousled his hair as he
spoke in a gentle tone to him. The boy grinned around his fingers.

Now Leah was confused. Hadn’t Rathe told her he needed a
son? If so, who was this child?

“My last wife’s son, Daniel,” he murmured into her ear as
though reading her thoughts.

“How do you know he’s not yours?” she creaked out in a
whisper.

His finger traced her spine, sending shivers along in its wake.
“I was in France for over a year. He was born two weeks before I arrived home.”

She opened her mouth, spurred to question him further. To
demand he sit down with her and answer everything about which she was curious.
But men approached him and spoke, their voices tinged with apprehension, right
after they gave Leah a respectful bow.

Rathe’s hand dropped from her back as he turned his
attention to the men, firing questions at them. She glanced down at the
children, amazed at their dutiful patience as the adults conversed.

“Leah,” Rathe said, turning to her, “Get the children fed
and tucked in. I may be a while.”

Panicked, she grabbed his hand. “What? Why? What’s going
on?”

He shook his head, a grave shadow overtaking his features.
“I do not yet know. Do not worry, love.” He kissed her head and took a step
away.

In a flash of boldness, Leah pulled him back. His brows
arched in surprise as he stared down his nose at her.

She took a deep breath, attempting to gather her scattered
thoughts. “I don’t know what I am doing. I-I don’t know where the food is or
what they like. I don’t know where they sleep. What if they don’t want to eat?
What if—”

He shook his head and sighed. “Calm down, lass. The servants
know. They will guide you.”

Irritation surged through her. It was all very simple in his
orderly, structured world where everyone did his bidding all of the time,
wasn’t it? “But I don’t speak Gaelic or have you not noticed that fact?” she
hissed, her brow furrowing.

He chuckled and cupped her face in his hand. The pad of his
thumb smoothed the worry from her brow. “It will all be well. You will see.” He
looked down at Màiri and spoke in Gaelic.

She gave him a dutiful nod and tugged on Leah’s hand as he
called to someone in the crowd.

A rounded, matronly woman came forward with two younger
women at her heels. All three smiled at Leah and curtsied before motioning her
to follow them.

Rathe gave her hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze and
released it. “I will not be gone overly long.”

He walked away and was soon engulfed by a crowd of men as
they moved toward the opposite side of the courtyard.

Màiri gave Leah’s hand another tug and the little boy
started fussing. Màiri heaved a dramatic sigh.

He released her hand and tumbled toward Leah, raising his
arms. Leah grabbed him before he could fall face-first into the dirt and
swooped him up to settle him on one hip. He wrapped one chubby arm around her
neck and laid his head on her shoulder, stuffing his fingers into his mouth
once again.

Màiri took Leah’s hand again and they started off after the
three women who were making their way into the keep. True to Rathe’s word, the
women settled Leah with the children at a wooden table in the middle of the
kitchen and ladled a brothy soup with bits of root vegetables and meat into
wooden bowels. Daniel cozied up on Leah’s lap, uninterested in sitting on the
bench on his own or in feeding himself. Màiri scooted in next to Leah,
chattering away.

The older woman approached her, holding a spoon. She patted
her chest and said, “Mòrag.”

Leah smiled, placing her hand on her chest and saying her
own name.

The woman beamed and nodded, dipping the spoon into the soup
and bringing it to Daniel’s lips. The boy took his fingers out of his mouth,
revealing a sweet little cleft in his chin, and accepted the bite. Mòrag then
handed Leah the spoon and motioned toward Daniel with a tilt of her head.

Leah adjusted the boy on her lap and continued the feeding.
Màiri patted Leah’s arm and pointed to her bowl.

“
Sùgh.
”

Leah paused in midair with another bite for Daniel. She
nodded and smiled.

“
Sùgh
,” Màiri said once again, her eyes widening in
expectation.

Daniel fussed and Leah hurried to give him the bite of soup
before turning back to the little girl. “
Sùgh?
” she repeated in a slow,
deliberate tone.

Màiri’s face brightened as she nodded. Then she held up her
spoon. “
Spàin.
”

Leah smiled and laughed. The girl was trying to teach her
Gaelic. Rathe had probably given her instructions to do so as they stood in the
courtyard. She repeated the word, much to the little girl’s pleasure.

The language lesson lasted throughout the meal. Màiri
finished her soup well before Daniel and ran around the kitchen naming
everything from the floor to the herbs suspended upside down as they dried from
the rafters in the ceiling. The women laughed and assisted her in finding
objects to bring to Leah and name.

Overwhelmed, Leah was grateful when the women indicated it
was time to move on from the kitchen. Màiri continued to point out things as
they walked down darkened corridors and then up two flights of stairs. It
wasn’t until they’d entered a tiny chamber with a small bed and a fire
crackling in the hearth Leah understood what was happening.

Mòrag poured water from a pitcher into a bowl as the two
younger women pulled the shifts over the children’s heads. Then she turned down
the bed while the children’s hands, faces, and feet were scrubbed clean. Mòrag
handed a brush and ribbon to Leah and motioned toward Màiri.

Leah sat on the bed and the little girl ran over, throwing
herself onto the mattress next to her and then crawling into her lap. Leah was
very gentle as she brushed out the girl’s hair, remembering all too well her
mother’s impatient strokes as she had brushed Leah’s hair before school.
Assuming the ribbon was meant to secure Màiri’s hair, Leah wove the locks into
a braid and tied the ribbon in a bow at the end. Màiri turned and threw her
arms around Leah’s neck, giving her a big squeeze.

Leah hesitated, surprised by the sudden sentiment. But then
the ease with which the little girl poured out her affection dismantled Leah’s
natural guard and she slipped her arms around the child, hugging her close.

Satisfied, Màiri gave her a peck on the cheek and pulled
away. “
Oidhche mhath leibh.
” Then she smiled and added, “
Mamaidh
,”
before crawling into the middle of the bed.

Good night. Mommy.

Shit. Was she ready for this? Instant motherhood?

Daniel tugged at her skirts and she lifted him up, settling
him next to Màiri, before pulling the covers up over both of them. On instinct,
she leaned over and kissed them both on the forehead, pausing between children
as the shock over the strange naturalness of the motion washed over her.

As she stood and turned, she was met with the smiles of all
three women standing behind her. Mòrag sighed, her hand over her heart and
nodded, motioning for Leah to follow her again.

Leah fell into step behind her. The rustling of someone
behind her drew her gaze over her shoulder as they stepped into the hallway.
One of the younger women had followed along and was closing the door behind
them. She caught a glimpse of the other young woman tucking the covers around
the children and smiling at them just before the door shut.

Leah followed in silence as they padded down the corridor to
a different set of stairs. This one was wider and more centrally located in the
keep. Masculine voices carried up the stairs as the women descended.

Passing through an archway, she saw an expansive room spread
out before her. A fireplace large enough for a man to stand in graced one side
of the room and three long, wooden tables with benches took up most of the
middle. The center table had one chair at the end of it, in which Rathe sat
with his back to the fire and facing the large door that served as the main
entrance to the keep from the outside. Brodie and Ros sat on benches to either
side of him.

Rathe turned as the women made the final descent down the
last set of stairs. He smiled and stood along with Brodie and Ros.

As she caught his gaze, a weariness passed over his
features. It surprised her. He’d always been so energetic and full of life.
Almost as if he were superhuman. Had something happened?

Or was it his arm? Had the cut become infected? She bit her
lower lip, her gaze sweeping up and down his form for any clue.

He kissed her cheek as she approached and pulled back, his
brow furrowing. “Is everything all right, lass?”

She nodded. “You?”

“Of course.”

“Then why do you look like that?”

He shrugged, shaking his head in seeming bewilderment. “Like
what?”

Her gaze drifted to his arm. “Just, you know, tired. Does
your arm feel okay? Any pain?”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “I promise, you will be the
first to know if my arm needs tending. Is a man not allowed to be tired in his
own home after several days of rather eventful travel?”