Highlanders Collection. Ann Lethbridge

hadn’t noticed before. ‘I don’t want to be like them, Bram.’

      ‘What is it you want, Nairna?’ His voice held a hard edge to it and she flinched as if he’d struck her.

      ‘I want to love you,’ she whispered.

      ‘Don’t,’ he warned. ‘If you knew the things I’ve done—’

      ‘You won’t tell me.’ She rested her forehead against his cheek. ‘And I know it’s tearing you apart inside.’

      His hands moved to pull her away from him. A coldness settled into his skin, but she pressed again. ‘What happened, Bram?’

      He moved towards their house, staring at the hills surrounding them. For a long time, he said nothing, wondering if he should admit the truth.

      But God above, she wanted to love him. He needed her to understand that he wasn’t the man she believed he was.

      ‘All summer I watched the guards, learning their habits,’ he began, not meeting her eyes. ‘What time they ate, what time they slept. I kept my head down and tried not to be noticed.’

      She was listening intently, with far too much compassion on her face. Bram forced himself to tell her the rest, for he owed her the truth. He’d made an unforgivable choice. And it haunted him still.

      ‘One night, after we’d been building a wall, I let myself fall to the ground. One of the guards came to see what had happened and I smashed a stone into his face. Then I ran to the opening we’d created.’

      He rubbed at his eyes, but continued on. ‘I shouted to Callum, ordering him to join me. But two of the other guards grabbed him. They held him and threatened to kill him.’

      Nairna came up beside him and took his hand. She squeezed his fingers, as if trying to obliterate his guilt.

      ‘I chose my life over Callum’s,’ he admitted. ‘I ran when they could have slit his throat.’

      ‘But they didn’t.’ Nairna leaned against him. ‘Marguerite said he’s still alive.’

      ‘A thousand times I’ve wondered if I made the right decision. I left him there and swore I’d return for him. I risked his life on that. I didn’t know if they would carry out their threat or not, but if I didn’t leave, we were both dead.

      ‘They let him go, because they had to chase after me.’ He expelled a breath. ‘I ran for the next two days, until I came to Ballaloch.’

      When he’d finished, he expected her to pull away. He expected to see disappointment or revulsion in her eyes at his cowardice. Instead, she told him, ‘It’s not your fault. And I know you’re going to free him.’

      He stared at her. ‘I can’t forgive myself for abandoning him.’ With his hand, he traced the soft skin of her neck. ‘I have to find him, Nairna.’

      He let her go, not wanting her pity. Nor did he want to know what she thought of him now.

      ‘Are you certain about this?’ Laren asked. She held on to the leather-wrapped glass oval as though it were her firstborn child. ‘I don’t think they’ll want it.’

      ‘They’re building a new kirk in Inveriston,’ Nairna reassured her. ‘Your glass windows will be the envy of every priest in the Highlands.’

      ‘And what if it’s not good enough?’ Laren looked dismayed when Nairna gently took the glass from her.

      ‘Your glass will inspire the monks,’ Lady Marguerite insisted. ‘It deserves to be part of the abbey.’

      Although Laren still appeared unconvinced, Nairna hid the leather package within her cloak and went to where Dougal was waiting.

      ‘Can you be back by nightfall?’ she demanded.

      ‘Easily.’ The young man looked irritated that she’d even asked such a question. ‘It’s not that far to the parish.’

      Nairna passed him the wrapped window, hoping that her plan would work. ‘Demand seventy pennies, and when he offers twenty, take the glass and start to ride away. He’ll come up in his offer after that.’ She drilled into Dougal the right asking price, inwardly praying that he wouldn’t come home with the wrong amount.

      ‘I’ll bring it back,’ he promised.

      ‘If I can rely on you, you can have the foal that my mare Anteria is carrying, after it’s born.’

      Dougal brightened and she suspected he would move the sky above them in order to sell the glass. ‘By nightfall,’ he repeated.

      ‘Don’t let it break,’ Laren pleaded. And when he’d gone, she looked as if she wanted to chase after him and snatch it back. ‘It will be all right, won’t it?’

      ‘The abbot will want more after he’s seen this one,’ Nairna predicted. ‘Can you make them?’

      ‘Of course.’

      Laren’s shoulders lowered and Nairna stopped to link arms. ‘Don’t be afraid. You have talent and I believe in you.’

      The woman offered a faint smile, though she still appeared nervous. ‘I hope he gets a good price for it.’

      Marguerite took Laren’s other arm in a show of support. ‘He will.’

      The house was now finished, and Bram stood back to look at it. Though it was well after dark, the men had lit torches, working together until the last segment of thatch covered the roof.

      Tonight he would sleep beneath his own roof, with his wife. He’d even constructed a bed frame for Nairna and Alex had arranged for the mattress to be brought from the grain hut.

      She might not want to be anywhere near him, after what he’d confessed about Callum. When he stared at the bed, he half-wondered if he’d be sleeping on the floor.

      The slight noise of women approaching made him turn. Bram saw Laren and her daughters, along with Lady Marguerite and Nairna. When his wife drew closer, he stilled at the sight of her.

      She wore a kirtle and matching surcoat of green silk embroidered with pearls. Her dark hair was braided back from her face, with a few long strands covering her shoulders. A small embroidered cap covered her hair with a trailing veil. The gown was one he’d never seen before—it clung to her body, outlining every curve. Her breasts filled up the fabric, and he could see the plump outline of them within the silk.

      She was wearing one of Lady Marguerite’s gowns; he was sure of it. And though it pleased him that she’d made an effort to cast aside one of the shapeless, grey gowns she usually wore, it bothered him that she didn’t have a gown of her own of that quality.

      ‘Nairna,’ he greeted her.

      She moved towards him slowly, with her dog trailing her. In her hands she held a drinking horn. Her lips parted and her green eyes were soft in the firelit torches. Bram tried to take the horn from her, but she refused to let go. Instead, she opened it for him, lifting it to his mouth as she offered him a drink.

      The ale was cool, as if it had been kept underground. After the day’s hard labour, nothing could have tasted sweeter. She let him drink his fill; when he’d had enough, she took the horn away.

      ‘Do you like your house?’ he asked.

      She nodded, raising her eyes to look at the new structure. ‘I’m glad they were able to finish it tonight.’ Then she sent him a slight smile, before leaving him to stare at the sway of her hips as she returned to the others.

      The way she spoke made him wonder if she had plans for this night. His thoughts filled up with ideas of everything he wanted to do to his wife beneath their own roof. The memory of the taste of her skin, the soft sighs she made when he touched her, was enough to send his desire raging.

      The women opened up the bundles of food to share, but Nairna didn’t join him. Instead, she stood at a distance, watching him from