On a Highland Shore by Kathleen Givens Read Free Book Online

there news?” she asked Lachlan.
    He shook his head. “Naught that affects us.”
    “Did Rignor tell ye about the Norseman’s head we found on the beach?”
    “Aye. But, Margaret, Norsemen sail past ye every day on the way to Skye and Man. Someone fell overboard is all.”
    “Aye,” she answered, content to let the subject drop. Lachlan was here, and that was what mattered.
    They turned right, toward the harbor. Next time, as a wedded couple, they would turn left, would take the path that led through the upper village, through the glen and the mountains and eventually across Scotland. Soon, she thought, pressing his arm to her side.
    “How lovely to have ye back again, Lachlan,” she said.
    “I couldna stay away,” he said, his smile warm.
    “Only a few more weeks, sir, and I willna let ye out of my sight.”
    “Aye, ’tis almost here.”
    “Will we have any time before we go to court to…” She felt her cheeks flush. “To become more fully acquainted?”
    He laughed. “I assure ye, Margaret, that we will become completely acquainted.”
    She tossed her head. “I wish to learn all there is about becoming a wife.”
    “Do ye?” His tone was amused. “And I’ll be pleased to teach ye. But ye do ken that I will often have to be away on the king’s business? And ye canna always accompany me.” His gaze drifted to her mouth. “Much as I would want it.”
    “Aye, ye’ve told me. I shall have to find other ways to amuse myself when ye’re gone.”
    “Most wives do.” He smiled again and kissed her cheek. “I just want ye to remember that ye’re mine, no matter how many men try to turn yer head with their compliments.” He stroked her cheek. “Ye are verra beautiful, Margaret, and there will be men pursuing ye at court. Ye ken that.”
    “I will see none of them.”
    “See to it that ye don’t,” he said, and smiled widely.
    She smiled in return. When she’d been at court she’d heard the love songs, the chansons that the French bards sang, full of lovers who sighed at the mere sight of their beloved, of men who did rare and exciting deeds to prove they were worthy of a woman’s love. She thought of Aunt Eleanor, whose parents had arranged her marriage. She’d been a reluctant bride, but a happy wife whose face had lit up whenever her husband walked into the room, as did his whenever he saw her. Margaret had watched them, knowing that whatever it was that Eleanor and her husband shared, it was strong and heady and she wanted the same for herself. She glanced at Lachlan. She was sure they would have it.
     
    Most of the houses of Somerstrath lay between the keep and the sheltered harbor. Lachlan was greeted cordially and stopped several times to tell the news from the east, of the king’s latest visitors, of the unrest in England and how it distressed Scotland’s Queen Margaret, who worried for her father Henry, King of England, and her brother, Prince Edward, who now led the English army in her father’s stead.
    At the weaver’s house Fiona was waiting on the doorstep with a ready smile. Lachlan greeted her and her father warmly, saying all the right things when Fiona’s father displayed his latest creation, a finely woven length of lichen green wool that would be his bridal gift to them. Lachlan and Margaret praised it, and Fiona’s father beamed, showing Lachlan the recent improvements he’d made on his loom.
    Fiona, standing with Margaret, sighed as she watched Lachlan and her father deep in conversation.
    “Are ye no’ truly the most fortunate of women, Margaret?” Fiona asked, her voice low. “Is yer betrothed no’ the most handsome man ye’ve ever seen?”
    Margaret smiled fondly. “Ye’d tell me the same even if he had only four teeth and one eye, would ye not?”
    Fiona laughed. “That’s true, I would.” Her smile widened as Lachlan joined them. “Welcome, my lord. I’m hoping yer visit means that there will be music and dancing in the hall this