Adrienne Basso Read Online Free Page B

a widow with no children. There’s no reason not to return to yer family. I think that most would expect it.” Edna sat on the edge of the bed, absently taking a sip from the wine goblet Grace had refused. “Ye’ll have to ask Douglas fer an escort.”
    Grace flushed. “What if he commands Roderick to do the deed? I’ll not be safe with him and certainly cannae tell Douglas why.”
    “Aye. Ye’ll have to get word to yer brother without either man knowing and ask fer a McKenna guard to be sent here to bring us home.”
    More intrigue? When would it end? Grace sighed. She was a simple woman, used to living a quiet life of wifely duties, attending to the running of her household, acting with the decorum and piety befitting a woman of her stature. This sort of clandestine behavior went against her experience, as well as her nature. Yet she was quickly learning it was but part of the price she’d have to pay for her actions.
     
     
    Ewan pulled alongside the small river, dismounted, then casually held the reins while allowing his horse to drink. They had traveled a fair distance this day and the animal deserved a reward. As he waited for the stallion to drink his fill, Ewan lifted his face toward the late afternoon sun and closed his eyes. After all the constant activity and noise at the castle, the silence around him was soothing.
    He took a deep breath. The faint hint of heather in the air foretold of the coming spring and the familiar, comforting scent buoyed his spirits.
    Somehow they had survived the first winter at Tiree with only a few deaths—three villagers to old age and two of his guardsmen to a mysterious sweating sickness. Food had not always been plentiful, yet Ewan felt a sense of pride that none had died from starvation or exposure to the harsh winter cold. He had worked hard to do all that he promised, providing food and shelter for everyone, but he also acknowledged they had been lucky.
    Spring would bring the rebirth of the land, summer milder weather, and hopefully in the fall, a bountiful harvest. Yet it was essential that they now plant as many fields as possible, hunt as much game as they could find, and store away an abundance of food and fuel in anticipation of the next winter. A man’s luck, as Ewan knew all too well, did not last indefinitely.
    He heard the sound of footsteps approaching, but didn’t bother to open his eyes. He was safe enough on his own land, especially this close to the keep. My own land. Will I ever get used to saying that, I wonder?
    “I overheard Margaret and Colleen talking in the kitchen this morning,” a female voice announced. “They remarked with the snow starting to melt, the priest should arrive earlier than usual, most likely in a few weeks’ time.”
    With an ironic smile, Ewan turned to his mother. “Have ye a burning need to make yer confession and seek absolution fer yer sins? Is that why ye are so anxious to see a priest, Mother?”
    Lady Moira drew in a still breath. She had fared well through the harsh winter, losing none of her strength or edge. “I’ve little use fer men of the cloth, as ye well know. I was referring to yer needs.”
    Ewan scrutinized his mother in puzzlement. “I’m not in need of a confessor or a priest.”
    “I never thought ye were.” Moira glanced away, looking out at the budding greenery. “But ye need to seriously think about taking a wife, Ewan, and saying yer vows when the priest arrives. It might be as long as a year before he returns. If ye wait much longer, all the good women will be taken.”
    “All of them?” Ewan answered with a teasing smile, but Lady Moira was not amused. The furrow between her brows, which seemed to be a permanent fixture on her forehead ever since he could remember, deepened.
    “Ye can scoff at my blunt tongue as much as ye like, but I’ll not soften the truth. Ye need an heir to carry forth yer legacy, and fer that, ye need a wife.”
    Though he fought against it, Ewan felt his heart