ditch. She managed it with a little difficulty, tottering slightly off balance for a moment, and Duncan couldn’t help it. He took advantage of the moment of weakness and tugged her into his arms.
“But-!” Cairan yelped in surprised as she was tugged against the Scotsman’s chest. Duncan stared hungrily at her eyes. There was no mistaking what he wanted to do. “ My husband..!” Ciaran whimpered, but Duncan was sure that it was with fear and not regret.
“I won’t let him at you, lass,” Duncan growled back, and couldn’t wait another second before claiming her as his own.
His lips descended like a hot brand, searing into her skin as his hands curled around her back. She tasted as sweet as he’d imagined in his dreams. He knew, even before they broke away, that one taste would trigger an addiction.
She was his . The law and the church might have bound her to another man, but he knew, in his soul, that she belonged to him!
He bent to kiss her again, but Ciaran avoided his lips. “Your arm!” she gasped, touching her fingers to the sticky blood that oozed through his sleeve.
“A scratch,” Duncan assured her, annoyed by the distraction. The pain was nothing compared to the pleasure that a brush of her lips had wrought. He tightened his grip on her waist and bent to kiss her again - but was thwarted once more.
“Laird MacRae!”
Ciaran broke away only a second before Ross stepped into view. The man looked curiously between Duncan and Ciaran, but then registered the presence of the children and seemed to dismiss them in favor of the matter at hand.
“Laird MacRae…I think you need to see this…”
..ooOOoo..
Sean was dead.
Ciaran turned the thought over in her mind, trying to work out how it made her feel. It was something between relief and pain. It was true he had sometimes been a monster. He had ruled her with fear and pain, and his own foolishness had gotten him killed - but it was also true he was the father of her children. He had fed and clothed her. He was the only thing she had known since she left her home and came across the sea.
The children seemed similarly undecided , not quite certain what their reaction should be. They had all cried a little in the hours since Mister MacRae had returned and told their mother what he’d found. Ciaran walked with him the half mile up the trail, as far as the rest of the caravan had gotten before they were set-upon by Indians as well. She had looked on Sean’s dead and bloody body - she felt she had to see it for herself. Then she returned, drew the children aside and broke the news as gently as she could.
“What will happen to us now?” Ryan asked before anything else.
“We’ll manage,” Ciaran answered automatically, although she didn’t know if that was true. The raid on the first half of the wagons had been more successful. Most of the supplies and the cart were intact, but all of the livestock Sean had brought was missing, save a cage of chickens that was strapped in the back. What was more, Ciaran didn’t know if she could manage the horses herself - or what they would do when they reached the end of the journey. She wasn’t ready to think about that yet. She was simply trying to reconcile her mind to all the changes, and so she had missed the point of Ryan’s question.
“No- I mean…what will happen to Avery and me ?”
Ciaran blinked. Surely Ryan and Avery knew she loved them? That she didn’t blame them for their father’s actions? That she wouldn’t dream of leaving them behind?
“Oh, Ryan!” she had whispered in answer, and then tugged him into her arms. “I won’t leave you, darling - or your little brother!”
The declaration seemed to ease the youngster’s fears. He managed a few bites of his own food before he allowed himself to be put to bed with his little brothers.
The mood at the camp was still wary and muted. The wagons had been arranged in a double circle around a large, single fire. Ciaran made sure