Page 35 of How a Scot Surrenders to a Lady

A choked laugh escaped Marion. “Knowing Broch, that will only make him pursue you with more zealousness.”

“I ken that well enough now,” Sorcha muttered. Marion’s eyes narrowed and a pucker appeared between her brows. “Are you sure nothing has occurred between you and Broch?”

She bit her lip, considering if she should tell Marion that Broch had kissed her. She needed someone to confide in, and get advice from, and Marion was her best, really her only, option. “He kissed my hand twice,” she said, a hot flush spreading to her chest. “I told him nae to, and then he kissed my cheek. I had to be verra firm and warn him quite sternly nae to do such a thing again.”

Marion scowled. “I’ll have Cameron talk to him for you.”

“Nay!” Sorcha gasped.

Marion quirked her mouth. “Why ever not? I assure you that Cameron would not like—”

“I’m afraid Cameron would think I encouraged Broch to steal the kisses,” Sorcha blurted, her blood pounding as her entire face, neck, and chest grew even hotter with her humiliation.

“Why would he think that?” Marion asked, her tone filled with confusion.

Sorcha was embarrassed to share her kiss, but her confusion and need for a confidant overrode her embarrassment. “Cameron kissed me, and I could nae stop myself from responding rather eagerly, so ye see—” She halted abruptly at Marion’s gaping mouth but decided she best rush through the rest in hopes that Marion would understand how lost she felt and not judge her too harshly.

“Cameron may think I willingly receive kisses from any man, but I assure ye, his kiss was the only one that I could nae help but return. It… Well, it stole my senses.” And so Marion would not think she was blaming Cameron, Sorcha added, “But I have to admit I liked having them stolen by Cameron.OnlyCameron.”

She fidgeted as Marion stared open-mouthed at her, and the need to keep talking now that someone she hoped she could trust was listening filled her. She took a deep breath. “I remembered my real name after Cameron kissed me, but he fled me before I could say anything. Yer brother-in-law is so confusing!” She gulped a breath and let more words rush out. “One moment he’s nice and then he’s nae, but his kisses lit a fire inside me. That is, until he said he’d hurt me.” She frowned in remembrance. “It was as if he threw a bucket of cold water upon my head. Do ye ken what I mean?”

Marion snapped her jaw shut and nodded, which made Sorcha feel better about continuing. “I ken the king has plans for me that dunnae include Cameron or any man I even ken. I’m a pawn to be moved at the king’s whim. Perchance I deserve it for my past, but perchance I dunnae.” She sucked in another quick breath. “I dunnae ken what I deserve! I dunnae even ken if I’m already married!” She clutched Marion’s hand. “I need help. I need a friend.”

Sorcha’s heart raced so quickly the beat of it roared in her ears. Her entire body now felt flushed, and her head pounded. She reached a trembling hand to her head and pressed it to her temple, but on a hiss of pain, she quickly drew her fingers away from the wound she’d forgotten about once more.

Marion frowned and patted Sorcha on the arm. “Shh, now,” she said in the softest, most soothing voice. “It will all be fine. Put your worries in God’s hands.”

The words were like a shot to Sorcha’s head that lodged in her brain and loosened another memory. She gasped and then grinned. “My mother used to say something similar! I have the loveliest feeling in my chest when I recall my mother,” she finished, blinking rapidly to keep the tears filling her eyes from spilling over.

Marion squeezed Sorcha’s hand. “Let’s start by taking a look at your head, and we’ll work our way to your heart,” she said with a wink that immediately put Sorcha at ease.

Sorcha merely nodded.

Marion leaned forward and raised her hands. “I’m going to check your wound.” Sorcha nodded again as Marion unwound the bandage, then gingerly examined Sorcha’s head. “It’s healing nicely. Has it been hurting much?”

Sorcha shook her head. “Nay, though I do feel as if I’ve something stuffed in it,” she said on a hiccup.

Marion frowned. “Did ye drink wine when ye broke yer fast?”

“Aye,” Sorcha replied, her stomach roiling in protest of the wine still in it. “An entire carafe.”

“Oh dear!” Marion exclaimed. “Be more careful with the wine. The MacLeods make especially strong wine. I’m shocked a carafe did not put you to sleep.”

Sorcha yawned at the mention of sleep. “In truth, Iamverra tired.”

Marion nodded. “It could be the injury or the wine. Either way, you need to make sure to get plenty of rest tonight. Now,” she said, sitting once again as she set the bandage that had been wrapped around Sorcha’s head down beside her chair. “What is your real name?” She quirked an eyebrow and offered a smile.

“It’s Sorcha,” she said.

“Sorcha,” Marion repeated but much slower as she cocked her head. “Yes,” she murmured. “That suits you perfectly. I happen to know your name meansbrightness, and you are that.” Marion chuckled, sweeping her gaze over Sorcha’s blond hair and then meeting her eyes once again. “Have you recalled anything else? Like what clan you belong to?”

Sorcha shook her head, her thoughts seeming to slosh around like water. “Nay, but surely more will come soon?”

Marion’s nod of agreement sent relief surging through Sorcha. She hoped remembering her past would be a good thing, but even if what she remembered was bad, it would be better than not knowing.

“So,” Marion said, her mouth pulling into a teasing smile, “Cameron kissed ye.”

“Aye,” Sorcha said, unable to keep the glumness from her tone. She hiccupped again. “And then he fled me as if a fire was nipping at his plaid, but nae before he made sure to tell me he would hurt me if I let him.”

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