Page 23 of The Highlander Who Loved Me

Lady Davina knelt and looked Lileas directly in the eye. “I willnae be yer mother, but I should like very much to be yer friend.”

Lileas chewed her bottom lip as she considered the offer. “I like having friends.”

“As do I. If yer father allows it, perhaps ye can show me around the castle tomorrow?”

Both females turned hopeful eyes toward him. He ran a hand through his hair, manfully resisting the cowardly urge to turn to his mother and let her decide. “Lileas will make an excellent guide.”

That answer earned him a smile from all three females. Malcolm held his hand out to his daughter. She took it eagerly, skipping beside him as they made their way to the high table. He settled her on the special chair to his left, which was built with high, sturdy legs so the little girl could reach the table, then assisted Lady Davina, who was seated to his right.

His mother was on Lady Davina’s other side, allowing him to focus most of his attention on his daughter since his mother was busy speaking with her guest.

Lileas happily filled his ear with news of the puppies that had been born a few days ago, the antics of her faithful dog, Prince, the fluffy gray castle cat she had finally been able to catch and pet for a few minutes before it squirmed away, and the pretty smell of the lavender satchels she had helped her grandmother make this morning.

Always a good eater, the child grew quiet as she concentrated on the food Malcolm had set on her trencher. He had chosen the most tender pieces of meats, cutting them into small bits, so they could be easily chewed and swallowed, and selected her favorite vegetables, though Lileas always ate them all. Ignoring his own hunger, Malcolm watched the child as she ate, marveling anew at how this beautiful, perfect, innocent creature had sprung from his loins.

From the moment of her birth, the love he had failed to feel for Lileas’s mother had manifested itself in emotions so deep and strong for their child that Malcolm almost felt unmanned by it. The fierce, nearly obsessive desire he carried to protect Lileas and see her happy seemed to grow each day, never more so than when he had been away from her for a time.

Assured that his daughter had all that she needed, Malcolm relaxed slightly and turned his attention to his meal. The roasted venison was moist and succulent; the stew of vegetables and boar meat dripping in a rich, tasty sauce.

The sound of Lady Davina’s rich, velvet voice invaded his thoughts, causing Malcolm to pick up his head like a hound on the scent of its prey. Now, there was a puzzling female. She jumped like a hare at the sound of a deep male voice and yet she had retained her composure during that surprise skirmish in the woods.

She had further risen in his respect and admiration when she had volunteered to aid the men who had been wounded during the attack and had managed to do so without becoming overly emotional. ’Twas a reaction he had not predicted nor anticipated.

He understood well the feeling of fear; any warrior with wits experienced it when faced with battle. ’Twas only training that made that emotion fade into the background while instinct to survive took over.

He imagined it would be much harder for a lass, as she did not possess the means to defend herself, but instead must rely on those around her to keep her safe.

Malcolm began staring at Lady Davina. He knew it was rude, yet a part of him thought if he peered at her long enough, he might come to some understanding of her.

She must have felt his gaze upon her, for she turned to him, her eyes light with curiosity. He smiled. Her eyes widened. She tried, but only managed a very brief grin in return. ’Twas all the opening he needed.

“I must apologize fer Lileas’s somewhat . . . uhm . . . exuberant greeting,” Malcolm said. “I hope that ye dinnae find offense at her outburst.”

“Nay. ’Tis rather flattering really, to think she would want me fer her new mother.” Lady Davina speared a morsel of meat with her eating knife. “I understand the loneliness of growing up without a mother, though I was lucky to have mine until the age of twelve. ’Tis obvious that Lileas is well loved and cared fer, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”

Malcolm pondered her words, watching her as she took a drink of her wine. The drink left her lips looking plump and rosy.Ripe for a kiss?

“Perhaps ’tis time fer me to think about finding a bride,” he said casually. “Ye aren’t wed, are ye?”

She appeared stunned for a moment. Nervously, she took another sip of her wine, tipping it back until her goblet was empty. He reached over and refilled it. She took another long gulp. “I’m sure there are many fine, accomplished ladies who would gladly accept yer proposal, Sir Malcolm.”

“Malcolm.”

“Pardon.”

“As ye are a guest in our home,’tis acceptable fer ye to address me by my name. Will ye do me the honor of granting me the same privilege?”

Her cheeks flamed. “Of course. It seems foolish to be so formal. Yer mother has already insisted that I call her Aileen.”

A teasing muscle twitched in his jaw. “So, Davina, what advice can ye give me regarding a wife?”

She brushed her hand over her brow, momentarily stopping to pinch the bridge of her nose. He thought he also heard her utter a short prayer—dearest Lord, give me strength—but could not be completely certain.

“As an unmarried woman, I am hardly the one to consult on such matters.”

“Why are ye unmarried? If I might be so bold to ask?”

To his surprise, instead of blushing and turning away, she gave him a hard stare. “Ye may ask all that ye like, Si . . . Malcolm. But I dinnae have to answer.”

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