Riding away from Cunningham House, Charlie looked up at the sun and smiled. It was so lovely to be going on an excursion with Patrick and Elsie, out in the sunshine, free to do what they liked, that Charlie didn’t care where they ended up.
She looked toward Patrick riding just ahead and caught him watching her over his shoulder. He winked and she blushed.
“Do you like him then?” Elsie cut her an eager glance as she kept pace beside her on their way to pick up the Wallace children.
“Aye, I do,” she confessed, turning her loving gaze on her sister.
“What if he was a Fergusson? Would you still like him?”
Charlie turned to look at her. What an odd question to ask. Why would Elsie bring up the Fergussons now?
“Well?” her sister asked with an impatient sigh. “Would you? Still like him?”
Images of Kendrick flashed across Charlie’s thoughts. Aye, she could still like a Fergusson, but it wouldn’t be safe for any Fergusson to lose his heart to a Cunningham. And what about her poor mother? Wouldn’t liking a Fergusson betray Margaret Cunningham? Oh, what did any of it matter? Patrick wasn’t a Fergusson. “What is all this talk of Fergussons about, El? Has Duff been talking to you again about Kendrick?”
Elsie shook her head. “Nay, but I think you should hear what he would say to you about it.” Without waiting for Charlie’s reply, she kicked her horse’s flanks and caught up to Patrick.
She hadn’t minded when Patrick had agreed to let Duff accompany them. Her brother would have likely followed them anyway.
Feeling her brother’s gaze on her, Charlie turned to look at Duff riding close by. He smiled.
“Do you truly expect forgiveness from me?” she asked quietly.
“Nay, I don’t.” He shielded his pewter eyes beneath his lashes. “I know what I did was beyond redemption. I live with it every day. I seek nothing from you. I would only have you know that I’m sorry for not saving him. I would have you know that.”
Charlie had forgotten how Duff had looked as a boy. His laughter was a memory that had also faded since the year Kendrick had disappeared. Before that, he was good-natured and a pain in her neck, always teasing her about Kendrick—or how she chewed. Always hovering around her whenever she was close by, protecting her long before he’d promised their mother that he would.
“I miss my brother,” she spoke before she could stop.
“So do I, Charlie.” He raised his gaze to hers, his dark hair snapping across his face in the morning breeze. “I lost something of myself that I can never gain back again.”
Something in his confession pulled at her heart. Duff was sorry. Was it enough? “If you’re certain you can never gain this part of yourself back,” she told him, “then cease mourning it and find a way to live without it. If there is a way to gain it back, then find it.”
He nodded at her and smiled. She smiled back and then was gone.
Charlie suspected that the only reason little Jamie was squealing was because his three older siblings were. She didn’t care. He was adorable. They all were, hopping and clapping with flaxen curls tumbling around their faces when Patrick invited them to spend the day at the river.
The river! She could have kissed Patrick when he’d announced it.
“And.” Patrick leaned in closer to Mary. “’Twill give ye some time alone with Robbie.” His smiled widened into a furtive grin. “I have wee cousins back home. I know how precious time alone can be fer their parents.”
Charlie listened, wondering what kind of childhood he’d had. Was he afraid of marrying and becoming a father with no more time to fulfill his own desires?
“Aye, to sleep,” Mary slapped his arm with her apron when he cast her a doubtful look. “I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since Robert came along six years ago.”
His grin widened and amusement flickered across the surface of his eyes. Blazes, Charlie thought looking at him, he certainly was the most charming of rogues. She turned away to return her smile to the children.
“Sleep then,” he told Mary, “and dinna worry aboot yer babes. There are enough of us to make sure none of them venture into the water alone.”
“Aye,” Charlie validated with a playful cut of her gaze. “Patrick sacrificed much to acquire all the aid he needed.”
“She embellishes.” Patrick flashed his dimple at her first and then at Mary. “It required no sacrifice at all to spend the day with yer bairns.” He bent a bit closer to Mary’s ear. “And with her.”
Charlie perked her ear. Did he just say it was no sacrifice to spend the day with her? Then she’d been correct last eve! He’d known what she’d been fishing for and he hadn’t given it. What made him finally give it now? Did she really care why? Her breath grew short. Before she had time to ponder why it made her heart fly, she looked up at him and smiled.
He winked in reply. He. Winked. Was that amusement making his green eyes dance? What in blazes did it mean? Was this more of their cat and mouse game? Was he teasing her?
Very well, she was up to it, and now that she knew his weakness, this battle she would win. Her smile remained intact when she spoke. “Why, Patrick, are you expecting Mary and me to believe that I might be taming your wild heart?”
He chuckled and looked up toward heaven but he had no immediate reply. Was she suggesting the idea that he could actually love a woman was too preposterous to believe? Or was she boldly challenging him to admit he was losing the fight? He was unsure. Charlie could see it in his eyes.
Before he formed a reply, she winked at him then ushered the children to make ready for their outing.
There was much weighing on Patrick’s mind as he rode his horse toward the river Stinchar with wee Jamie in his lap, but hell the sun was warm, the cool breeze fragranced with wild primrose and fern, and the sounds of children’s squeals filled his ears when they saw a roe deer watching them from the trees. He wanted to enjoy the day, not spoil it by thinking about what was happening to him. Charlotte Cunningham had found a way under his skin. Of course, he wanted to spend the day with her. Of course it had nothing to do with needing her help with the children. He’d taken his wee cousins swimming in the bay of Camas Fhionnairigh many times without incident. But he hadn’t told her that. Hell, but she was a spirited lass, always challenging him. She seemed to know him better than he knew himself—a least as of late. He was losing his heart to her and she knew it and enjoyed torturing him with that knowledge. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms, but she withheld her kisses with blackmail.
He smiled while they traveled a path nestled into the twists and shade of the riverbank until they came to a small clearing surrounded by tall alder trees and downy birch. If she wanted him to stay so badly, he would, because well, he’d lost his damn mind.
Could he win her from Kendrick?
Tomorrow. He’d worry about it tomorrow.
The river flowed downstream like jewels glistening in the sun. It was here that she had stoned him in the head. Mayhap, she’d done more damage than he realized.
They stopped at the river’s edge and after helping the children out of the four saddles, unpacked the large bag tied to Patrick’s horse.
“Did you know this is one of my favorite places?”
He turned from ordering Jamie to stay close and offered Charlie a smile that was filled with more tenderness than he’d intended. Damn him, he’d become as soft as his cousins.
“I didna know that,” he replied, taking note of the fullness of her coral lips and the sun in her dark eyes. “I’ll make certain to bring ye here more often.”
“Oh,” she asked, her inky brow cocked. “You’re staying then?”
“I might,” he told her unfolding a large woolen blanket, which the children jumped on the instant it hit the grass. “If ’twill earn me a kiss, I’d consider it. What d’ye think, children? Should Charlie let me have a kiss?”
“Ew!” Andrew balked and made gagging noises.
“Why would you want to kiss her?” asked Robert.
“Oh, Robert,” Elsie said helping Patrick unpack their lunch of black bread, fruit, various cheeses, and dried mutton. “In just a few short years you’ll be thinking of nothing but kissing.”
Patrick laughed at Charlie’s suspicious glance at her sister and at the lad’s vehement denial. He thought about how the affliction had only become worse for him since meeting Charlie. He had trouble taking his eyes off her when she bent to sit on the blanket and fit Nonie into her lap. Would she make a good mother to his bairns?
Damnation but he was willing to remain here for a kiss from her! For how long? What about Camlochlin? Would he take her and Elsie home? What about all his secrets? What about Kendrick’s death?
“Can we go in the water, Patrick?” Andrew asked tugging on his hand and thankfully pulling him from his troublesome thoughts.
“We can do whatever ye like, lad.” He tossed a pear to Robert. The lad caught it and sank his teeth into it.
“Are there frogs here?” Jamie lost all interest in eating and leaped up on his chubby legs, his wide blue gaze already searching the water’s edge.
“Of course,” Patrick answered feigning incredulity. “D’ye think I’d bring ye to a place where there are no frogs?”
The lad shook his head and aimed a smile at him that damned near melted Patrick’s heart. He’d miss these babes when he left.
And what in blazes was he to do about Duff? His cousin lived with a great shame and bringing him home would likely bring shame to Will, as well. Still, Duff’s life would have been very different if he’d been raised with his father in Camlochlin. Mayhap it was time for Will to face the consequences of his actions.
He sat on the blanket with the others and ate, refusing to darken the day with things he couldn’t solve at present.
Later, they took the children to the water’s edge and kicked at the small waves, splashing one another and laughing. They searched for frogs and helped Nonie pick daisies for her hair, and all the while Patrick’s gaze followed Charlie, his heart delighting in the way she came alive in her freedom, away from Cunningham House. Unlike her sister’s cumbersome wardrobe, Charlie’s finely spun skirts lifted on the breeze and danced around her bare toes. She wore no flowery band above her brow to hold back her loose hair but kept the lush tresses tucked behind her ears with the aid of sprigs of elderberry. She was like something out of a fairy tale, both earthy and ethereal. Her eyes were lightly lined in kohl to accentuate their shape and the intensity of her gaze. Each time it met his, he felt as if he’d been struck in the belly.
The children finally grew sleepy by midafternoon and fell asleep sprawled on the blanket.
Looking at them, Patrick decided the day couldn’t get any better—unless, of course, he could find a way to be alone with Charlie.
“Charlie,” Duff said amidst the chattering birds over head, “did Patrick tell you that he knows my father?”
“Nay, he didn’t.” Charlie’s smile faded when she looked at Patrick, misgivings replacing her pleasant mood. “What else haven’t you told me?”