24
" Three years later he had another opportunity to see the little girl.
Helmert had been tearing through the keep, bellowing like a mad bull as he searched for his sister. “Josephine , I swear I’ll rip yer head off when I find ye!”
’Twas eerily similar to Graeme’s first visit.
Remembering his first encounter with the tree sprite, Graeme went in search of Josephine. The first place he looked was the auld oak tree, but she was not there. After a careful search out of doors, he went inside. She was not in the larder or the kitchen. It took more than half an hour before he finally located her in her father’s study, hiding under the large desk.
Graeme crouched low so he could see her better. It didn’t appear she had grown much in three years, though she had lost the cherubic face. This time she wore a dark green dress and matching slippers.
The last time he’d seen her, she’d been quite terrified of her brother. Now, she looked quite angry.
“I’ll nae tell, Josephine,” he whispered, offering her a kind smile.
A scrunched brow said she didn’t believe him.
“Pray tell, what did ye hide this time?” he asked, hoping his amused tone would help lighten the mood.
Reluctantly, she finally confessed. “His strop.”
Graeme raised a confused brow. “Why would ye hide his strop?”
The little girl looked at him as though he were quite daft. “So he will not beat me with it. "
― Suzan Tisdale , Isle of the Blessed
25
" Reaching into his sporran, he pulled out a small bundle wrapped in fine linen. “I want to give ye somethin’, somethin’I want ye to wear this day.”Carefully, he unfolded the linen and held his hand out to her.
Josephine’s eyes widened with curiosity and joy. “’Tis beautiful, Graeme!”
“It be a brooch that each MacAulay lad receives when he turns six and ten. I want ye to have it.”
Josephine carefully took it and studied it closely. Made of pewter, in the center of the brooch were two hands, one decidedly masculine, the other feminine. The masculine hand held the feminine hand in his palm. In the center of her palm was a tiny ruby. To one side, the circle had been engraved to look like stars twinkling near a crescent moon. On the other were the words aeterna devotione. Eternal devotion.
Tears filled her eyes as she looked into his. “Ye want me to have this?”
“Aye, I do, Joie,”he said as he placed a kiss on her forehead. “Me great-great-great grandfather presented a brooch just like this to his wife, me great-great-great grandmum. But no’until the first anniversary of their weddin’day. ’Twas a symbol of the great love they had found with one another. ’Tis tradition for the MacAulay men to only give their brooch to a woman who has stolen their heart, a woman they love and trust above all else.”
Tears trailed down her cheeks, her heart beating so rapidly she was certain it would burst through her breastbone at any moment.
“I do no’quite understand how it happened, or how it happened so quickly, Joie, but it has. Amorem in corde meo ut arctius coccino colloeandus arctius ideo astra,”Graeme said first in Latin and then again in Gaelic, “Toisc go bhfuil do ghrá eitseáilte isteach i mo chroí i corcairdhearg, mar sin tá sé eitseáilte amonst na réaltaí.”He placed a tender kiss on her cheek. “As yer love be etched into me heart in crimson, so it be etched amongst the stars,”he told her. “As me grandda said those words to me grandmum all those many years ago, I say them to ye. "
― Suzan Tisdale , Isle of the Blessed
27
" Albert,”she said before taking a drink of cider. “Do ye think we could ride this day? I would verra much like to see more of this land I shall be callin’home.”
’Twas all he could do to keep his heart inside his chest as hope soared. Doing his best to keep his excitement contained, he said, “Aye, we can. I shall see if Bruce or Traigh would like to join us,”he said as he stood.
Before he could walk away to search for someone, anyone who would be willing to ride with them, Laurin stopped him. “Albert, if ye can no’find anyone, I’ll still ride with ye.”
Before he could do something foolish, such as offer for her hand that very moment, he gave her a nod and left quickly.
’Tis just a ride, he admonished his excited heart. ’Tis just a ride. "
― Suzan Tisdale , Isle of the Blessed
31
" She says ye never left me side?”she asked.
He felt his cheeks grow warm. Clearing his throat once, he finally answered. “Aye.”
“Why?”she asked.
Why? For the past four days, he’d imagined everything he would say to her as soon as he found her. Her illness delayed the heartfelt words he had wanted to have with her. Now, when the moment finally arrived, his mind turned blank. All the sweet words he’d planned to tell her fled on the wings of a frantically beating heart.
“Ye came fer me,”she whispered. “Ye came fer me and ye killed Helmert. And ye never left me side.”Her voice was filled with disbelief. “Why?”
He stammered for a moment, tripping over his own tongue. “I,”he paused, searching for the right words, the words he hoped would not terrify her. “Ye be a fine woman, Laurin. I’ve grown quite fond of ye these past weeks.”
She studied him closely for a moment. “So fond of me that ye were willin’to risk yer life to save mine?”Her tone said his answer made little sense.
“Aye,”he whispered. Suddenly his mouth felt dry, his tongue thick. “Fond enough to risk my own life for yours.”
“Fond, like ye’d be fond of a dear friend, or somethin’more?”
He could not understand why she asked that particular question. Refusing to read anything into her question, he replied. “Somethin’more, lass. Far more than friendship.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she stared at him. It made his gut wrench, thinking he’d brought her a moment of discomfort or sorrow.
Leaning over, he took her hand in his. “Laurin, I ken ye do no’have the same feelin’s for me as I do for ye. I ken ye may never have them, but it matters no’to me. I would be willin’to wait an entire lifetime on nothin’more than a wish and a prayer, in case, just in case some day ye might be able to return those feelins.”
He’d not pressure her into anything, would not beg her for her hand or her heart.
“How can ye say that?”she asked, swiping away an errant tear. “How could ye wait a lifetime for me?”
With a slow shake of his head, he smiled. “Och! Lass, ye’d be well worth the wait. "
― Suzan Tisdale , Isle of the Blessed
33
" objet qui pouvait lui passer sous la main. Elle avait flanqué suffisamment d’hommes à la porte de son auberge au fil des ans pour que chacun sache qu’il valait mieux ne pas la chercher. Fiona fut ravie d’apprendre que Findley avait enfin décidé d’entendre raison et de se marier. Elle exprima son approbation en lui donnant une grosse claque dans le dos avant de serrer Maggy dans ses bras. Beyton, en revanche, lança à Findley un regard apitoyé, l’air de dire : « Profite de ta lune de miel. Ça n’ira pas en s’arrangeant. » Beyton et Fiona n’en crurent pas leurs yeux quand ils apprirent que la jeune femme qui se tenait devant eux était la mère des quatre garçons. Findley leur expliqua brièvement qu’elle ne les avait pas tous enfantés. Ne sachant pas si Malcolm Buchannan avait des hommes postés à Renfrew, il ne se répandit pas en détails. On leur assigna trois chambres. Deux pour les hommes de Findley et les garçons, et la troisième, pour lui et Maggy. Fiona refusa de grimper les deux volées de marches de l’escalier avec plusieurs cuves et l’eau nécessaire pour les remplir, donc il fut convenu que Findley, ses hommes et les garçons se baigneraient dans une salle attenante aux cuisines. Mais d’abord, elle sollicita leur aide pour transporter la baignoire de Maggy à l’étage. Fiona guida le groupe à travers la "
― Suzan Tisdale , Findley's Lass (Clan MacDougall, #2)
39
" Albert, apparently sensing that Traigh was, at that moment, plotting the different ways in which he’d kill their youngest brother, spoke up. “So will it be a hangin’in store fer Graeme, or do ye just plan on beatin’him half to death?”
Traigh glanced at Albert. “I have no’decided just yet.”
Albert was the most serious of the six MacAulay brothers. He rarely spoke without thinking first, and he was not one to go about chasing lasses like their brothers, Bruce and Albert. Neither was he one to jest frequently. ’Twas also said that Albert was as tightfisted with his money as a bairn is to his mother’s teat. Trying to get money from him was akin to trying to squeeze water from a stone.
“I say we hang him,”Albert said, and not in jest.
Traigh, though sorely tempted, knew ’twas impossible.
“Our mother would have our heads if we hang him.”
Albert thought on it for a moment. “Mayhap one day he will be out ridin’and have a mishap, whereby he falls off a cliff.”
Traigh stared at him for a long while, uncertain if he was jesting or serious. Part of him was afraid to ask. Albert was just as vexed over Graeme’s behavior as Traigh was.
“Remind me never to make ye angry,”he said.
Albert raised a blonde brow. “Ye? Nay, I doubt ye’d ever anger me to the point of murder. Graeme, however, is another matter. I fear he has been so busy with book learnin’that he has fergotten everythin’a MacAulay stands for.”
“Honor above self,”Traigh said.
’Twas the creed all MacAulays lived by.
“Aye,”Albert said. “And right now, I believe he’s puttin’his own feelin’s ahead of everythin’. How anyone can remain angry for so long is beyond me. But then, I have no’had all the book learnin’that Graeme has had. Mayhap he can explain it to us.”Though his voice was laced with sarcasm, there was much truth to what he was saying.
Traigh had to chuckle. “Shall we allow him to explain it before or after we beat him senseless?”
Albert took a moment before answering. “Mayhap before, fer ’twill be difficult to understand him once I knock out a few of his teeth.”
“Again, remind me ne’er to make ye angry, brother.”
Albert shrugged his shoulders before urging his horse to move faster, leaving Traigh to wonder if he should mayhap begin to pray that Albert did not get his hands on Graeme first. "
― Suzan Tisdale , Isle of the Blessed
