about her family and her husband and about losing them. He marveled at her strength. She had shouldered a burden that would have crushed many. Bram found himself feeling jealous of a dead man—the man who had called this wonderful woman his own.
Kristen had probably napped for close to two hours, but when she woke, he was sorry it hadn’t been longer. “Well, now that this wee poppet is awake, I should escort ye back to the keep.”
“Ye needn’t do that, Bram. Kristen isn’t fully awake yet, so I will carry her down. Ye go on ahead. We’ll be slow.”
“Ye can’t carry her down the hill. It’s dangerous. Ye might stumble with her.”
“Ye worry too much. I carried her up the hill. I think I can manage to carry her down.”
“And ye argue too much. I will carry her down.” Without waiting for an answer from Grace he scooped the wee lass up. Kristen wrapped her little arms around his neck, snuggling close, and his heart melted. He started down the hill before looking over his shoulder and saying, “Are ye coming?”
She shook her head in exasperation. “Aye, I’m coming.”
Chapter 10
Eanraig Sutherland had been baffled by his son’s behavior. If Fiona wasn’t the problem, what was? Whatever it was, this was unlike him and he would have to get over it. Frankly, Eanraig was glad Bram had left the choice up to him. The alliance he most sought was with the Sinclairs. The Sinclairs had feuded with many clans over the years. While they had never been at odds with the Sutherlands, neither had they been close allies either.
Still, his son worried him. Bram had complained that he didn’t know any of the women on the list. Know them? Ridiculous. He would get to know the one he chose. It was the way of things.
With resolve, Eanraig had composed the letter to Laird Sinclair, sealed it, and had it ready for a messenger to carry the next day.
With that task finished, he rose from his desk and walked to the window. It was too fine a day to stay in. Perhaps he would take his wife for a ride. Rodina loved surprises like that. Before he turned away from the window, something on the headland caught his eye. He stopped to look, smiling when he realized it was a young couple with a child. The bairn slept in her mother’s lap. He looked more closely and saw coppery auburn curls emerging from under a white kertch. It was Grace Breive. Well, that was good. She seemed like a fine lass and needed another husband eventually. However, Eanraig’s good humor fled when he realized it wasn’t a villager or a member of his garrison who sat beside her, but his son, Bram.
Damnation, she was what had him so distracted. Frankly he couldn’t blame his son. Grace was a striking young woman but if Bram had some notion of love in his head, it would have to be nipped in the bud.
That evening, during supper, Eanraig launched his campaign.
“Bram, the messenger will deliver my betrothal request to Laird Sinclair tomorrow. I feel certain Sinclair will agree. We could have the entire thing resolved within the next fortnight.”
Bram nodded but said nothing.
Rodina’s face lit with a smile. “Oh, Eanraig, ye’re seeking a betrothal with Annice Sinclair? That will be wonderful. Don’t ye think so, Bram?”
“Aye, Mother. It will be a valuable alliance.”
“I expect she has grown into a lovely young woman. I believe we saw her last at her oldest sister’s wedding to Andrew MacLeod. Do ye remember Annice? She was quite a bonny lass.”
“Mother, that was six years ago. I was one and twenty and took no notice of a lass of twelve.”
His mother pursed her lips. “Well, she was a bonny lass of twelve. Her sister Joan, God rest her soul, was an extraordinary beauty.”
“Now her, I remember,” said Ian. “At the time, I thought Andrew MacLeod was the luckiest damn man in the Highlands.”
“Mind yer language, Ian,” his mother scolded. “Their mother is a very attractive woman too. I expect Annice is every bit as
Kristen had probably napped for close to two hours, but when she woke, he was sorry it hadn’t been longer. “Well, now that this wee poppet is awake, I should escort ye back to the keep.”
“Ye needn’t do that, Bram. Kristen isn’t fully awake yet, so I will carry her down. Ye go on ahead. We’ll be slow.”
“Ye can’t carry her down the hill. It’s dangerous. Ye might stumble with her.”
“Ye worry too much. I carried her up the hill. I think I can manage to carry her down.”
“And ye argue too much. I will carry her down.” Without waiting for an answer from Grace he scooped the wee lass up. Kristen wrapped her little arms around his neck, snuggling close, and his heart melted. He started down the hill before looking over his shoulder and saying, “Are ye coming?”
She shook her head in exasperation. “Aye, I’m coming.”
Chapter 10
Eanraig Sutherland had been baffled by his son’s behavior. If Fiona wasn’t the problem, what was? Whatever it was, this was unlike him and he would have to get over it. Frankly, Eanraig was glad Bram had left the choice up to him. The alliance he most sought was with the Sinclairs. The Sinclairs had feuded with many clans over the years. While they had never been at odds with the Sutherlands, neither had they been close allies either.
Still, his son worried him. Bram had complained that he didn’t know any of the women on the list. Know them? Ridiculous. He would get to know the one he chose. It was the way of things.
With resolve, Eanraig had composed the letter to Laird Sinclair, sealed it, and had it ready for a messenger to carry the next day.
With that task finished, he rose from his desk and walked to the window. It was too fine a day to stay in. Perhaps he would take his wife for a ride. Rodina loved surprises like that. Before he turned away from the window, something on the headland caught his eye. He stopped to look, smiling when he realized it was a young couple with a child. The bairn slept in her mother’s lap. He looked more closely and saw coppery auburn curls emerging from under a white kertch. It was Grace Breive. Well, that was good. She seemed like a fine lass and needed another husband eventually. However, Eanraig’s good humor fled when he realized it wasn’t a villager or a member of his garrison who sat beside her, but his son, Bram.
Damnation, she was what had him so distracted. Frankly he couldn’t blame his son. Grace was a striking young woman but if Bram had some notion of love in his head, it would have to be nipped in the bud.
That evening, during supper, Eanraig launched his campaign.
“Bram, the messenger will deliver my betrothal request to Laird Sinclair tomorrow. I feel certain Sinclair will agree. We could have the entire thing resolved within the next fortnight.”
Bram nodded but said nothing.
Rodina’s face lit with a smile. “Oh, Eanraig, ye’re seeking a betrothal with Annice Sinclair? That will be wonderful. Don’t ye think so, Bram?”
“Aye, Mother. It will be a valuable alliance.”
“I expect she has grown into a lovely young woman. I believe we saw her last at her oldest sister’s wedding to Andrew MacLeod. Do ye remember Annice? She was quite a bonny lass.”
“Mother, that was six years ago. I was one and twenty and took no notice of a lass of twelve.”
His mother pursed her lips. “Well, she was a bonny lass of twelve. Her sister Joan, God rest her soul, was an extraordinary beauty.”
“Now her, I remember,” said Ian. “At the time, I thought Andrew MacLeod was the luckiest damn man in the Highlands.”
“Mind yer language, Ian,” his mother scolded. “Their mother is a very attractive woman too. I expect Annice is every bit as
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