Page 68 of How a Scot Surrenders to a Lady

A frown appeared between her brows. “Are ye nae going to join me?”

Silently, he kneeled beside her. For a moment, he considered looming over her, but then chose to settle on his back next to her. He took his hand in hers as he stared up at the slit of orange sky visible between the canopy of trees. For many breaths, he lay there, enjoying the soft sound of her deep, steady breath, the enticing scent that swirled from her skin every time the wind blew, and the feel of her warm hand resting in his. This moment, though not intimate in the way last night had been, offered a different sort of happiness, one he had never known. This, he suspected, was a hint of what it was like to be with a woman one truly knew. He’d thought the greatest thing he would ever achieve was to become a renowned warrior like his brothers, but now he wondered if perchance the greatest achievement was to learn a woman’s heart and her mind.

“Do ye want to ken what I wish for ye to do?” she whispered.

He turned his head slowly toward her, and the emotion that struck him made it hard to speak. “Aye,” he forced out on a whisper.

She rolled to her side, bending her right arm, and cradling her head in her hand. Her gray eyes clung to him, searching for what, he was not certain, but he knew he wanted to give it to her. “I wish ye to fill in the voids in my memory with ones of yer own. Tell me of yer childhood, of ye as a young lad, of what drives ye so relentlessly to be a strong warrior.”

He’d never had an open, honest conversation about himself with any lass, much less another person at all. His brothers probably realized better than anyone what pushed him to act the way he did, but what they did know, they had deduced. He’d never told them bluntly. It had seemed a secret to be kept hidden, one that made him somehow vulnerable, but with her, he did not feel the need to appear more than human. He could show her who he was, and perchance she would accept him, weaknesses and all.

He slung his arm behind his head to prop it up so he could see her as he talked. “My childhood was nae a bad one,” he started, trying to decide how to put into words what he wanted to say.

She reached out and caressed his cheek. “Saying it was nae bad is nae saying it was good. Tell me,” she prompted, “I’m listening.”

It was as if she had the key to unlock what he’d held in for so long. “It was hard. My da was a harsh man. He loved me, dunnae misunderstand, but he made sure I kenned I was nae close to the warriors my brothers were. I ken now that he pushed me so I would become a better warrior, but it did the opposite for a verra long time. Instead of focusing only on training, as I felt it was futile, I chased the lasses much more than I should have.”

He glanced up from his hand, which he’d been staring at, sure he would see judgment in her eyes, but all he saw was understanding and compassion. It humbled him.

“Tell me more,” she prodded. “I ken ye were still chasing the lasses when I met ye…”

He grimaced. “Nay, I was nae. I have nae chased the lasses since I was fifteen summers. That dunnae mean I have nae enjoyed the lasses, but I did nae chase them. I mostly trained, truth be known, but since the lasses seemed to like me—” he gave her a sheepish smile “—I developed a reputation.”

She chuckled. “I can see how that could happen. So at fifteen summers ye had decided nae to try to be a great warrior anymore? What made ye do so?”

“My father died, for one, so I did nae have him in my ear all the time anymore, telling me I was nae equal to my brothers. And actually, Graham gave me a strong speech on nae giving up and on being seen as an equal. He told me Iain was testing me, and my reckless pursuit of the lasses was dividing my attention too greatly and causing me to fail.” He shrugged. “Graham’s words jiggled my mind, and what he said made sense, likely meeting ye that night helped to drive his words into my heart.”

“Truly? Ye think meeting me had something to do with it?”

“Aye, I do. I did nae really ken it then, but looking back now, I ken it to my bones. I decided I had to be more focused if I wanted to show everyone I was strong and worthy to fight by my brothers’ sides.”

“And ye have shown it!” she exclaimed.

“Nay.” He shook his head. “Nae as I hoped. I have the physical strength to fight now, but I have failed to prove myself a worthy leader when I failed to defend Katherine. That was the most important task I have ever been given, and I failed. My brothers never would have allowed that to happen.”

“Ye kinnae say that,” she protested. “Yer brothers are nae faultless, and from what I have heard, Katherine disobeyed ye.”

“I let her. I was weak.”

“Nay,” Sorcha said, her face fierce with indignation for him that made his heart tug. “Ye are kind. There is a difference between kindness and weakness. How did Katherine’s death occur?”

He told her quickly about the trail and the lady talking after he had told her not to, which allowed the enemy to determine her location even though it was dark.

“Ye could nae have kenned she was going to make noise,” Sorcha said. “Yer brothers could nae have kenned it, either, if they had been there,” she added, a confident look upon her face. “That dunnae make ye weak. It makes ye human.” Her tone was so emphatic it gave him pause.

“Perchance,” he relented, thinking about what she had said.

She snuggled close to him, wrapping her arm around his waist and laying her head on his chest. “Is this agreeable to ye?”

“Ye in my arms is more than agreeable,bean bhàsail. It is perfect.”

She smirked up at him. “I bet ye said that to every lass ye joined with.”

“Nay,” he growled. “Ye are the first lass I have ever held in my arms. It is something I nae ever wished for, something I thought I would nae ever desire, but then ye appeared, and with ye, it is different. I am different.”

“Ye nae ever held the lasses that ye joined with in yer arms?” she asked, incredulity in her voice.

“Nay,” he replied.

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