He’s a handsome man, caring for his daughter. Ye can be forgiven for wanting to tumble into his arms and have more of his bairns.
“What? Nay!” Her eye flashed open. That wasn’t what this desire meant at all!
…Was it?
Nay.
As the man and lassie cavorted below, Wynda tried to reason through these strange feelings.
“ ‘Tis just…” she whispered, watching the man she refused to admit she dreamed of, “I have spent years working on the Gray Lady’s manuscript. Of course I’d be curious about those positions, the way they felt.” Aye, that was it. “Of course I would consider how and with whom to experiment.”
That was it. That was the explanation for these feelings.
It had naught to do with her father’s ultimatum or other silly considerations.
This was much easier to believe if she ignored the way the Gray Lady had once instructed her to find a lover and experiment with some of her teachings.
That was likely the cause of all these strange feelings. She put the thought into my mind.
Aye, that was it.
At some point during her internal monologue—Dialogue? Debate? Argument?—the two figures below had disappeared. Frowning, Wynda dragged her attention back to the present, twisting her head as she searched. The falcon still flew overhead, but…?
“I’ll play, lassie, but ye have to count aloud.”
The low voice drifted up from directly below her. Wynda stretched forward, balancing her weight on her hands. Ah, there he was!
Off to her right, Pherson’s back was to her—to the castle—as he spoke with his daughter.
“Dinnae give me that smile, Wren,” he scolded. “I want ye to count—nay, no’ with yer fingers, I ken ye can count on yer fingers.“ He heaved a mighty sigh. “I hate when ye use those big eyes on me. Ye look like a puppy dog.”
The girl laughed again, and his chuckle sounded almost reluctant. “Fine,” he sighed. “But if ye willnae count aloud, at least dinnae cheat this time, aye? Turn around, that’s a good lassie. Nae peaking.”
Wynda watched him peer at his daughter for a moment more, then straighten and whip his head wildly about as if searching for something. She leaned over the battlement to keep him in view as his long strides took him toward the hedges directly below her.
Down there was one of the exits to the secret passages which crisscrossed the walls of Oliphant Castle. Wynda had heard this secret spot, tucked between the wall and the hedge, was popular for trysts. Not that she’s ever been able to confirm that, but she was honest enough with herself to admit she wouldn’t mind learning about that spot…with the man who was currently heading toward it.
Pherson kept glancing over his shoulder at his daughter, who was standing with her back to him, her hands over her eyes.
Whatwere they doing? Was it some sort of game?
Below her, the falconer stepped in between the hedge and the castle wall, just as his daughter lowered her hands and began to look about.
Oh! It was a sort of hiding-and-seeking game! Wynda remembered her sisters playing it when they were younger—usually led by Leanna, who got them all into the most trouble over the years—but she’d never participated. She’d never really understood the allure of such games, especially for adults.
But…watching the way the lassie’s face lit in a beautiful smile, Wynda formed a suspicion. Adults played such silly games…because they loved the bairns who were made happy by those games.
It was a remarkable observation, and one she wanted to confirm.
She leaned out further, looking straight down at the handsome falconer. She wanted to call to him, to ask if her hypothesis was accurate. But she also didn’t want to give away his hiding spot.
From here, she’d be able to watch the pair of them interact, and determine if her guess was correct.
That’s the only reason ye’re watching him? For science.
“Aye, for science,” she whispered.
Mayhap he heard her. Or mayhap ‘twas the grinding sound of stone on stone which he heard as she felt the old castle battlements shift under her hands.
All she knew was that, as she pitched forward into space, Pherson looked up, the expression on his face mirroring her own thoughts.
“Oh, shiii—“