Bound by Wish and Mistletoe (Highland Legends #1.5)(17)
Robert’s right hand gripped her shoulder, preventing her escape from his hold. “Nay, love. ’Tis but a scratch. Doona worry over me.”
She huffed out a white puff of air as their boots echoed over the last wooden planks of the drawbridge. Amid a list of things out of her control since she’d escaped her father’s domain, the most bewildering of all was that Robert had just called her love. No one but Mama had uttered the endearment to Susanna, and her chest seized with sudden upset. She took in short, deep breaths, scanning the castle grounds as she tried to calm herself.
An astonishing scene unfolded in the castle’s great courtyard, scattering the troubles that whirled in her head. She paused, watching in surprise as merriment abounded everywhere she looked. At least half a dozen children chased a large wolfhound puppy, the dog and the children sliding in the new-fallen snow. Squeals of laughter rang out while everyone scrambled up and chased one another again.
A large warrior stalked up behind the children and launched a huge ball of snow from his fist. The wet clump splattered onto the shoulder of one of the children, sticking to the child’s dark woolen cape.
The young boy spun around. “Laird!” All the boy’s companions sprang into action, scooping up snow and launching it at their laird and each other.
She stared in rapt fascination.
Robert laughed, his face dropping near her ear. “That would be Laird Iain. The closer fatherhood comes to the man, the more he plays among the wee ones.”
Fresh snowballs were thrown from every direction as a crowd gathered at a safe perimeter to watch the fun. A few other men and many more children joined in the frosty battle.
“Listen to them, Robert,” she whispered, amazed. “Listen to all the laughter.”
“Aye.” Robert squeezed her arm, a broad smile on his face. “Come, Susanna. ’Tis cold, and we’re both tired. Let’s get inside to soak in hot baths.”
“A hot bath? Truly?” She gaped at him, shocked such a luxury would be extended to a stranger.
“Aye. I’d wager there’s one already bein’ drawn for you.”
She stared in disbelief, yet he guided her forward, urging them toward the sizable keep. The hill they climbed was gradual, but two feet of snow on the ground made her steps heavier than normal, and she soon labored for breath, hot puffs of fog flowing out from her lips.
Dozens of steep-roofed cottages had been frosted in white, their blackened stacks spiraling out a thin tendril of dark smoke. Two soldiers on horseback rode by to their left and continued down to larger structures, where they dismounted before the open doors of a stable.
Duncan and Seamus untied the pine tree, and Seamus hoisted it upon one of his massive shoulders before heading their same direction. As their group approached a great oak door through a stone archway, Duncan jogged ahead of them and pushed it open. Robert held Susanna back as Seamus squeezed backward through the doorway with the tree, its branches scraping either side of the wooden frame.
The bittersweet scent of pine filled her nostrils as they stepped into a great hall unlike her wildest imaginings; her view of the glittering scene opened wide as Seamus veered off toward a massive stone hearth.
Short, fat beeswax candles on a multitude of ledges gleamed with orange flame while slender tapers flickered in ornate, multi-pronged frames in the corners of the gigantic room. Fresh rushes and a purple haze of dried lavender covered the expansive oak floor. Long lengths of greenery were stretched across wooden tables beside red bows and branches of white berries gathered into piles. Attendants moved about the room carrying one decorative thing or another as a flurry of activity happened everywhere Susanna looked.
“Seamus!” an attractive, very pregnant woman with wavy blond hair shouted. “You’re dropping snow from that tree with each step you take.”
Seamus paused midgait without looking over to her. He tightened the fist that engulfed the trunk of the tree and rapidly shook his forearm. With the force of the sudden tremors, the remaining snow from every last pine needle quivered off, raining onto the floor where he stood.
“There, M’Lady. My pardon for mussin’ your hall,” Seamus said with a smirk. His next steps were snowfall free.
The woman rolled her eyes and kept them toward the ceiling, muttering something about the Lord...and patience. Susanna followed the woman’s gaze upward to see dramatic stone beams that arched toward the center of the cavernous room. Their remarkable bluish gray surface sparkled in the firelight.
She dropped her gaze back down at Robert’s gentle tug.
“M’Lady, this is Susanna. I hope to provide her refuge here. Perhaps a hot bath and a hearty meal to start,” Robert said.
Susanna looked into two brilliant emerald eyes. Tiny dimples appeared on the woman’s cheeks as she grinned broadly. “It’s very nice to meet you, Susanna. Please call me Isobel.”
Susanna gasped as her jaw dropped and remained open. She snapped it shut upon the realization. “You’re English?”
“Yes,” Isobel replied.
“I’m English, too!” Susanna cringed the moment the blurted words burned her ears. Several heads turned their way. Her cheeks flamed hot at the sudden realization of what she’d admitted, which was only a half-truth.
Isobel cocked her head and opened her mouth, like she was about to say something.
Robert interrupted, turning to Susanna. “You’re English? You doona sound English.”