Page 51 of In the Highlander's Bed

Both boys groaned at the unfairness, but Gordon nodded for them to go on and they knew they didn’t have a choice. They went scurrying off.

“There,” Constance said to Emma Reivers, who stood with her hands wrapped in her apron, a worried eye on Gordon. “That went well. See? I told you all those two needed was a strict talking to and they’d behave.” Pleased, she turned—and came face-to-face with Gordon. Or actually, face-to-chest.

He stood with his hands on his hips, expectingher to react. He anticipated some sort of her usual rebelliousness.

What he hadn’t expected was a radiant smile.

For a second he lost all sense of place and purpose. It was as if the sun had come out from behind the clouds.

Her eyes shone with excitement. “What do you think of the improvements, Gordon? I believe we’ve made an excellent day of it. Wait until I tell you what we are going to be doing tomorrow. But first, let’s be certain our new system of serving everyone works.” She didn’t pause for his response, but took advantage of his astonishment and organized the meal.

All he could do, all hehadto do, was stand back and watch.

Her spirits were indefatigable. She herded, cajoled, and ordered everyone to do her bidding. If any of them, especially the women, thought it strange they were taking orders from their captive, they gave no indication of it.

The women had been a thorn in his side even well before the defeat of Nathraichean. Their inability to work together had created untold friction among the men.

Now, it was as if everyone was the best of friends. Even the children were happier andbetter behaved. Gordon gave up counting the number of times in the space of half an hour when he heard the words, “Constance, what do you think…? Constance, should we…?”

He was witnessing nothing short of a miracle, and he wasn’t a man who believed in miracles. His guard went up.

Constance approached, carrying two plates of food. She’d twisted her braid into a knot at the nape of her neck and recently bathed. He could smell the soap and a crisp, clean fragrance that was all her own.

She held out the plates to him. He didn’t move. Instead, he asked, “What game do you play, lass?”

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand his question. “You are the one who brought me here.”

“But for a purpose. You’re the captive, Constance.”

“I want to join your cause.”

Gordon could have roared his frustration…except he didn’t know where he’d direct it. Was he more angry that his clansman, and Constance, didn’t take her position as hostage seriously? Or that she seemed better able to lead than even himself? That she understood this type of life and what had to be done?

Or was he angry because seeing her this waybrought out a longing in his soul the likes of which he’d never felt before? The yearning for a helpmate, a companion…a wife.

He tempered his tone. “You aren’t one of us, lass. The day will come when youwillleave.”

A line of concern formed between her brows. She glanced down at the plates. The food smelled delicious. “For right now, I am here,” she replied seriously. “And I’ve found that ‘right now’ is really the only time that matters. Here,” she said, again offering both plates. “You need to go find your sister.”

Alarmed, he asked, “Why, is something the matter?”

“You know there is.”

He did. He didn’t evade Constance’s unspoken concern. “We’re not close,” he explained. “She isn’t happy here.”

“You are all she has,” Constance said, refusing to accept the excuse. “If you don’t help her, who will?”

“She blames me for all that has happened. She doesn’t want to listen to a word I say.” Life had changed for both of them, and if Fiona didn’t accept those changes, how could he force her?

He’d used this excuse before. Everyone in the clan had accepted it.

Not Constance. She pushed the plates toward him so he had to take them. “Go eat with your sister. No one else can help her. You owe her an hour.” She didn’t wait for further argument, but turned and went to join the others.

For a second Gordon stood with the plates in his hands, feeling awkward.

He’d been dismissed. Nor did he have any idea where Fiona was; and even if he could find her, he preferred avoiding her stony silence.

Constance was new here. She didn’t know what she was asking.