Forget Me Not, My Scottish Love by Allie Palomino
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Four days later
“Ye remain angry with me?”
Abby had her back to him with their son in her arms. She looked out through their bedchamber window watching the men prepare for battle.
Cameron waited several moments before realizing that she, again, was refusing to talk to him, or even look at him.
“Well then, Abby. I shall see ye, Lord willing, within a fortnight.”
He walked over to her and took Trystan from her arms. The baby began kicking his legs in excitement and babbled.
“I love ye, Abby.” He looked down at his son, who looked so much like him, but with green eyes so deep in hue, it looked like the green grass of the glen.
Abby’s eyes.
“I love ye, Trystan. Take care of Mama,” he said, kissing his son’s hairy head. Trystan prattled in baby talk, and Cameron handed him back to Abby. She took him into her arms and turned around to face Cameron. Her eyes were mournful.
“I love you, Cameron.”
Abby’s emerald gaze touched all planes of his face. She brought her hand up to his cheek and felt the growth of his beard tickle her palm.
“Be careful, Cameron. You are my world, my life, my son’s father, and my husband. You carry my heart with you, my love. Always remember that.”
His gaze softened but something within him tensed and seized. It sounded almost as if she was saying goodbye.
“Ye’ll be here when I return?”
She smiled at him. “You’ll return to me?”
He gave her a slight shake of his head and a charismatic smile. “On the stump of my body, dragged by my arms if I have no legs.”
She smiled up at him. With one last kiss on her lips and Trystan’s head, he left her in the room.
She turned and stared out the window. Moments after, she saw her husband mount a black warhorse and speak to his men. Their faces were fierce- they were faces that were ready for battle.
She shuddered.
Her husband’s men were a formidable opponent- the best in all of Scotland.
But her father was evil.
She watched the men ride into the distance- the sound of their movement was forebodingly deadly. When she saw the outline of their bodies no more, she left the window and sat on the bed to play with Trystan.
Yes, while her husband’s men were the best, the deadliest, and the most formidable force in all of Scotland, her father was the seediest, most distasteful, and most dishonorable man in England.
She hoped her husband wasn’t marching into an ambush.