Page 46 of Wild Highland Rose
She looked up, her heart skipping a beat as she met his eyes.
"I'm sorry about what happened this morning. I know it was awful for you, but I didn't invite her to my room. I swear it. If you'd given me a chance I could have explained."
"You don't have to explain. 'Twas nothing." She looked down again, afraid he'd see through the lie.
He lifted her chin with his fingers. "That's not true. It hurt you. I know it did. And if I could have waved a magic wand and made it all disappear, I would have. You have to believe me when I tell you, I did not ask Aida to come to my room."
He brushed a strand of hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. "In fact, when you came in, I was telling her to leave. Unfortunately, she isn't good at taking no for an answer." His gaze met hers and held. "I really am sorry."
Looking into his eyes, she saw nothing but concern and sincerity. "I believe you." And she was surprised to find that she actually did. Which was confusing considering who she was talking to. But then the truth was, for whatever reason, the man he was now was a far cry from the Ewen Cameron she had married. And she prayed to God that the change was permanent, and that he would stay at Crannag Mhor.
At least, until his father took his cohorts and went home. Beyond that she did not dare imagine. It was too new, and there were too many things that could upset the fragile feelings that were building inside of her. For now at least, she'd do best to keep them at bay, locked away in some safe corner of her heart.
"Do you want to come with me?"
She broke from her reverie. "In that?"
"Well, if we're going to go out on the lake, its best to take a boat, don't you think?"
"Aye, but I still dinna see the purpose o' going at all."
"Marjory," he sighed, "sometimes it's good to do things for no reason at all. Come on. Let go. Live a little."
What was it Grania had said? Listen with your heart? Maybe she did let her head rule too much. "All right," she said, the decision made. "I'll go. What do I do?"
"Give me your hand."
She placed it in his, shivering at the warmth of the contact. The man definitely had an effect on her. She sat on the bench in the center of the curach.
"All settled?"
She nodded and he pushed the little boat clear of the shore. Then almost effortlessly, he jumped over the side and settled beside her on the bench. The curach rocked back and forth, but held strong.
The bench was small, with barely enough room for the two of them. She settled comfortably against his side, thinking that maybe fishing wouldn't be so bad after all.
"Areyou sure you're doing it right?" Marjory peered over the side of the curach into the murky water where his line disappeared.
Cameron smiled. "Yes, I'm sure."
"But you haven't caught any fish. Isn't that the whole point of fishing?"
Cameron sighed. There was simply no explaining the art of doing nothing to someone who probably thought tossing a caber was recreational. "Just be patient, we'll catch something."
"Do you really think the fishes will eat pieces of oatcake?"
Better them than him. "I'm not sure really, but they were plentiful and the cook didn't seem to mind my having them."
Marjory laughed. "I'll wager you didn't tell her what you were wanting them for."
"No, I didn't." He grinned sheepishly. "She probably thinks I've developed a taste for them."
They sat in companionable silence, watching the fishing pole, waiting for something to happen. A brisk breeze had come up and the little boat rocked back and forth. Suddenly, the pole jerked and the line pulled tight. Cameron drew back on the stick, feeling the line pull in the opposite direction. "I think we've got something."
Marjory leaned over the side, trying to see. "What do we do now?"
"Good question. Normally, you use a reel to help you pull it in, but I didn't have time to figure out how to make one. So, I guess we'll just have to do it manually."
"Manually?" She looked at him in confusion.
