Page 41 of The Highlander's Dangerous Bride

She looked up, the little line vanishing suddenly. “But I told ye all that back at the castle.”

“Aye, but just humor me. I want tae hear it again,” he insisted.

“Well, all right,” she agreed and told him the story again. Arne listened intently, asking questions now and then, his active mind logging every small detail of her description of the castle and the island, comparing the two versions of the story. Skilled in interrogation, he was looking for any discrepancy that he could pull her up on and expose her as a liar.

But when she had finished, he was discomfited to realize he could not find any. The two accounts matched perfectly, except she had added more detail the second time, and she had readily answered all his questions. It was almost reluctantly that he told himself she must be telling the truth—about everything.

Something shifted inside him that moved him a fraction closer to Raven, and a long time later, he would pinpoint that moment as the one when he started to hate Struan MacDonald.

Thorsten woke up shortly after that and wanted to go outside to play. So, they all got up and wrapped up again and left the warmth of the pavilion. Thorsten ran on ahead across the grass toward the pools, while Arne and Raven strolled side by side after him.

“Will he be safe, Arne? I’m afraid he might fall in,” Raven said worriedly, keeping her eyes fixed their son.

Arne laughed, but he secretly warmed to her further because of her obvious motherly concern. “He can come tae nae harm, the pool’s very shallow. He’s paddled in it many a time when we come here in the summer.”

She seemed comforted by his reassurance. They walked on down to the pool, where Thorsten was squatting down and throwing small sticks he had collected into the rushing water and then jumping up and racing after them along the bank when they floated away downstream.

“Look, they’re me boats,” he told her excitedly, the end of his nose glowing red from the cold. But he did not seem to notice it as he dashed about, engrossed in his game. “Here, ye can have one as well, and Da too.” He handed them both some of the twigs.

“Shall we have a race?” she asked him, bending down to his level.

“Aye, but mine will be fastest,” he told her with childish certainty.

“I expect so,” she agreed.

“If ye want tae let him win, ye need tae throw yer stick just a wee bit after he throws his,” Arne whispered to Raven, getting a waft of her floral perfume as he leaned closer. It made him feel quite heady.

“Och, thank ye fer the advice,” she said with a radiant smile, her cheeks pink from what looked to him like sheer happiness rather than the cold.

He found himself enjoying the spirited game that followed as Thorsten shouted, “One, two, three, go!” and they each flung their “boats” into the rushing waters. Arne covertly watched Raven as he joined in the laughter, clapping, cheering that went on as they watched the sticks spin and turn in the waters before being whisked downstream.

After that, they played tag for a while, running around on the grass, with Arne and Raven chasing Thorsten very slowly to let him catch them, with much laughter along the way. When Arne tagged Raven with a light touch on her arm, and she whirled around to him, eyes shining, giggling like a young girl, he felt a strange jolt go through his body that snatched his breath away. In spite of all his doubts, his resentment at her leaving them, and his fear of being hurt again, he seemed powerless to stop himself warming to her.

Eventually, when the sun had made its arc across the sky, Arne knew it would soon be time to return to the castle. But he found he wanted to delay it as long as he could.

“Shall we go inside and have somethin’ tae warm us up?” he asked, catching Thorsten and putting him up on his shoulders again. He galloped around like a horse, neighing and huffing, with Raven watching, holding her sides from laughing, while Thorsten shrieked with joy.

“Aye, there’s still a lot to eat, and I could dae with another cup of hot tea,” she said as they headed inside. “Let me dae it,” she told Arne when he set Thorsten down on the settle and went to make the tea.

So, Arne allowed himself to cuddle Thorsten while watching Raven moving about, once more finding he was enjoying the domestic atmosphere. She hummed a happy tune to herself as she made tea, fetched Thorsten some more milk, and set out some of the uneaten treats for them, smiling across at them from time to time before she finally came and sat with them.

A little while later, when they had eaten and drunk their fill, he said, “’Tis time tae go home soon. We should start packing up our things so the servants can come and collect everythin’ later.”

“I dinnae want tae go home!” Thorsten protested, his little brow wrinkling in consternation.

“I think we must if ye Da says so, me pet,” Raven told him gently. “It’ll be turnin’ dark soon and it’ll get very, very cold indeed. Why, it might even get so cold our noses could turn intae icicles and fall right off our faces. I’m sure ye dinnae want that.” She pressed his little button nose playfully.

Thorsten snorted with laughter, and Arne could not help joining in. He silently marveled at her knack of knowing just what to say to get Thorsten to do what was required while making him laugh at the same time.

“I dinnae want me nose tae fall off,” the little boy whispered, chuckling. “We better go home.”

“Aye, I think ye’re right. But we can come back here another time, eh?” she asked him, patting the top of his little woolen hat.

They cleared up the mess they had made, leaving everything neatly arranged so the servants could easily collect everything later on. Arne put out the stove, put Thorsten back on his shoulders, and they slowly made their way back up the steps by the waterfall. At the top, they squeezed through the rocks and went down the little rocky path back the horses, who were waiting peacefully for them.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The afternoon was darkening by the time they reached the castle. They went up the stairs with Raven holding one of Thorsten’s mittened hands and Arne the other, the three of them laughing joyfully as they swung him up between them stair by stair.

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