Page 58 of Sweet Home Highlander
“I’ll take the dagger and wear the bracelet, thank you.”
After he fastened the delicate clasp around her wrist, Aisla admired the simple beauty of the jewelry. The topaz gems shone, flanked by gorgeous blue stones on either side, and the braided metal gleamed.
“What are these stones called?”
The shopkeeper peered down. “Apatite from the Western Isles.”
It was truly lovely, not that the blue stones reminded her of Niall’s eyes at all. She paid the man and pocketed the dagger, and when she left the shop, she felt better. More grounded. She wasn’t sure if it was the whimsical beauty that had been inside the shop, or knowing that her husband’s mines had provided the gems, or even just having a new stunning throwing dagger in her pocket. But she liked Maclaren village, and that made the things she said the day before weigh even heavier.
She didn’t hate this place, or the people here. Or him, for that matter. Far from it. The knowledge lodged like a stone in the pit of her stomach. Time, it seemed, was more dangerous than anything else. Not only did it heal wounds, it made one dream of possibility.
Thatwas something she could not fall prey to, not if she hoped to escape Scotland with her heart intact.
Chapter Fifteen
The next week passed in a blur. Niall could not recall being more exhausted. They’d discovered another vein in one of the older mines that had been overlooked. It’d been purely by chance while repairing the broken pulley, but by all accounts, it was shaping up to be more profitable than anything they’d uncovered so far. The pulley itself had been another matter. While he could not prove anything, it seemed as though the ropes had been cut and not frayed due to time and use. Once more, it pointed toward foul play.
Between working the new vein, dealing with another unlucky collapse, and keeping a watchful eye on things, it was busy. Which meant that Niall spent most of his days in the mines with his clansmen and his nights in complete, exhausted stupor. He felt somewhat guilty that he hadn’t furthered his progress with his own wife, but she seemed content to spend her days with Makenna. He wondered at his sister’s lengthy visit, but he was more than grateful that Aisla had her for company. They were as thick as thieves lately.
“What do ye do all day with Makenna?” he’d asked Aisla one night after he’d returned, filthy and late. She’d taken one look at him and rung for a bath. In the past, he probably would have collapsed, filth and all, to bed, but it was…nice to have someone looking after his comfort.
“Stay,” he’d told her when she made to leave after the bath had been prepared. Niall hadn’t been able to resist teasing her. “I’ve recently seen ye naked, after all. It’s only fair I return the favor.”
Her skin had burned bright with color, but she hadn’t left. “As you wish.”
He’d been a prize idiot for mentioning the night he’d returned Aisla to her room at Tarbendale. Not for her sake, but for his own. Because all he could think of then was her creamy skin and ruched pink nipples, and how much he’d ached to take them into his mouth…even if she’d been entirely unconscious. It had not been one of his best moments, he conceded, but the woman erased all evidence of any good sense. He’d only been able to cleanse the skin of her sumptuous upper body with the greatest of effort. He had been shaking by the time he had finished. He’d have qualified for sainthood, he reckoned.
“Ye and Makenna, what do ye talk about?” he’d asked.
“We talk about Tarbendale,” she had replied. “And what you’ve done here. She’s very proud of you, you know.”
He’d been unable to hide his discomfort. “Aye, I ken.”
“You should be as well.”
“I am, though there’s a lot more to do,” he said. “’Twill be years before the lands start to turn a profit that doesnae go right back into the quarry. And I owe Ronan a sizeable sum. He lent me the money to buy the equipment early on.”
Aisla had gone quiet a moment, glancing at him while biting her bottom lip. As if she wanted to say something. But then she leaped to another topic.
“I saw the jeweler’s shop in town with all the topaz from your mines,” she’d blurted out. “The pieces there are beautiful. Enough to showcase in a Parisian gallery. I’ve written to my friends to see if they would be interested in purchasing some to show.”
Niall had been dumbfounded. “To show?”
“Yes, the art is quite stunning. Look at this,” she’d said, showing him the filigreed bracelet inset with topaz and apatite that she’d been wearing. “Whoever designs the pieces has uncommon talent.” She’d blushed and faltered at his expression. “I hope I haven’t overstepped.”
He’d shaken his head, stunned by her generosity as well as the sight of the bracelet on her delicate wrist, but his valet, Dunkirk, had entered then, curtailing any more talk between them. But the admission had left him with a warm feeling for days.
Even now as he sifted through a tray of dirt and stone in front of the mine, his thoughts couldn’t help centering back to her. The old anger that he’d felt about Dougal Buchanan had all but gone. Was that how forgiveness worked? Did it release a person so completely? He only knew that he felt lighter than he had in years.
“Laird, laird!” a man shouted, and Niall looked up to see his head foreman running toward him, sweat pouring down his face.
“What is it, William? Another collapse?”
They could not bear the loss of another mine. The last collapse a few days ago had been devastating, not only in the loss of profit, but in the loss of life. He’d lost three good men that day, men he could not afford to lose. After the cut ropes from the pulley, Niall could not push away the feeling that their run of bad luck was something more. William had found more than loose boards this time; he’d found a torn piece of tartan. Campbell colors, and evidence that his recent spate of misfortune was likely not by chance at all. Someonewantedhim and Tarbendale to fail. It wasn’t much, but he’d taken it to Ronan. At the very least, he’d have something to show the Campbell as proof.
“Nae, my laird. ’Tis my wife, Fiona. The babe is coming.”
Niall frowned, knowing the man’s bairn wasn’t supposed to be due for a few more weeks. “’Tis early, nae?”
