Page 20 of Return to Clan Sinclair
“Virginia would be miserable worrying about Macrath.”
“Love does that,” he said. “They love each other very much.”
She nodded. Should he be talking about love to her? Especially when they stood so close and she still tasted him on her lips.
She pressed her hand against his chest, feeling like he was a wall of brick or stone, something impenetrable and immobile. He must release her. He must step back and remove temptation from her.
As if he heard her words, he took two steps back, dropping his arms. He didn’t, however, apologize. Nor would she be such a hypocrite to demand it. She hadn’t been a victim but a willing participant.
She took a step to the left, then another, making here way to the entrance of the gazebo. Only then did she turn and look at him directly.
“You will be careful, won’t you?”
“I’m normally careful,” he said. “Normally.”
She was being silly, imagining words that hadn’t been said. But as she left the gazebo, careful not to look back, she could have sworn he said, “Except when it comes to you.”
CHAPTERSEVEN
She placed herself in exile for the next two days, taking her meals on a tray in the lovely sitting room that was part of her suite.
When Virginia came to see her after breakfast the first morning, she had no other choice but to assure her sister-in-law she was fine, just a little tired from the journey.
“It’s nothing else, Ceana? Is it the children? Have they been a bother?”
“They could never be a bother. They’re all wonderful and you know it.”
“Macrath? Has he said something to upset you?”
She smiled. “No. He’s been Macrath and that’s never upsetting.” She smiled at her sister-in-law. “Truly, it’s nothing. I thought being lazy for a day or two might be for the best.”
Virginia was finally assured of her health and her mood. She didn’t need to know about her confusion or the fact she was perilously close to tears most of the time.
She missed her girls and she missed Peter, but above all she missed herself.
Her brothers-in-law would have her remain in black, becoming the matriarch of the family. She would be spoken about in whispers.Dear Aunt Ceana, widowed all these years. She never quite survived the death of her beloved husband. Shush, don’t speak so loud. You are in the company of our straight-laced Aunt Ceana. She is the bulwark of the family, the morality expert. She dictates and passes judgments on others.
Oh, but she didn’t want to be like Brianag.
She wanted to live. Dear God, she wanted to feel delight and joy and happiness once again. She wanted to rear her daughters to be strong women. She wanted to show them life was a series of events, some good, some bad, but they could weather them all.
How did she do that if she retreated into darkness? If she became the black cloud over Iverclaire?
She wanted passion, and if that single wish and desire tainted her soul, then so be it. She could not forget she was alive. After Bruce’s kiss, how could she? That spike of desire she’d felt had shocked her.
Perhaps she locked herself in her suite as punishment. Or to hide from temptation.
Oh, he was a temptation wasn’t he? With his grin and his surprising eyes and his deep and masculine voice. He’d incited her compassion and her tears, yet now all she could think about was how he kissed.
Would he be a good lover?
No one had ever told her, prior to her marriage, she might enjoy the physical aspects of love so much. When Peter was taken from her, that was gone as well. Was she so terrible for wanting to feel desire again? Was she a harlot?
She needed to see a man of God. Peter’s family was Presbyterian, like she’d been reared, but sometimes she wished they were Catholic. How nice it must be to go see a priest and confess all her sins and be given penance for them. As it was, she was the only one to dole out her punishment: being a hermit in her rooms.
Bruce Preston was still too much on her mind, however.
On the morning of the third day, she left her suite, slipped down the back stairs, and escaped Drumvagen almost miraculously. Brianag didn’t stop her in the corridor. None of the children saw her. Her only witness was a young maid who smiled brightly as she carried a bucket of cleaning supplies up the stairs.
