Page 64 of Claimed by the Clan Chief

Which in turn was why he wasn’t at Caerlaverock right now.

A small movement on the horizon, just past the copse caught her attention. She stepped closer to the window.

Four horses were headed their way. They weren’t galloping, but walking slowly as if both steeds and riders were weary.

She peered closer.

Is it him?

McTavish?

Yes, she was sure of it.

Quickly she rang the bell to call her maid.

Within a minute Mari was at the door.

“Mari, the master is home. I can see him in the distance.”

Mari smiled. “He is?”

“Yes, I believe so.” Isla rushed to the window. “Come and see.”

Mari joined her. “I do believe you’re right, m’lady.” She rested her hand on Isla’s. “And I’m so pleased for you. I ken how worried you have been.”

“Thank you, Mari.” She nodded at the door. “I’m sure he’ll want to bathe, and eat and drink. Can you organize that?”

“Yes, m’lady, straight away, m’lady.” She hurried from the room.

Isla couldn’t take her attention from the horses as they grew closer. Her heart was skipping beats. She could barely tolerate this last wait to be in her husband’s arms again. To feel his body naked against hers. To have him inside her, pleasing her and hearing the sounds of his joy as he released his pleasure.

The horses went out of sight as they rounded the house to the courtyard. Isla kissed her sleeping son’s brow. “Your father is home,” she whispered. “Thanks be to the great Mother for her generosity and for bringing him home safe.”

Five minutes later the door to her chamber opened.

McTavish stood there, feet apart, his clothes muddy and torn and a thick black beard covering his jaw and chin.

“My love.” He stepped into the room.

She smiled and a rush of love filled her chest. “You came home.”

“Always.” He stepped close and stroked his hand over her hair. “Wherever you are, I want to be. I will always return for you.” He pressed a kiss to her lips then looked down at the sleeping babe in her arms. “Our son is well?”

“Yes, he had a chesty cough but is much better now.”

McTavish stooped and kissed his son tenderly on the tip of his nose. “I guess it pays him well to have such a talented mother who can concoct remedies for every complaint.”

“I do my best.” She glanced at the locked cupboard to her right.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

He raised his eyebrows. “It’s never nothing with you, dear wife, and I will learn of it.” He stepped away and glanced down at himself. “I’m going to clean up, eat, and then I’ll return.”

She studied an angry swelling on his forearm. “What’s that?”

“Damn hornet sting. It’s much better now than it was.”

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