Wynda smiled softly, adjusting her hold on the wee angel. “Ye’re a smart lassie, ye ken?” Solemnly, the little girl nodded, which just made Wynda’s smile grow. “Would ye like that? If I were…” She swallowed, suddenly unable to meet the girl’s eyes. “If I were yer mother?” she finished softly.
Wren pressed her cheek to Wynda’s shoulder again. “Aye,” she whispered.
Wynda had to swallow again, her throat feeling clogged with emotion. “Aye,” she whispered in return. “I would as well.”
We just need to convince yer father.
Robena cleared her throat, but was smiling when they turned to her. “I’ll leave the pair of ye to yer possible-mother-daughter bonding. I have to go see the woodworker about a new neck for my lute.”
At last, an explanation for why exactly her sister had come along on this errand to the village. Wynda didn’t hide her scowl, which just made her sister grin.
“Dinnae forget, once ye’ve finished fitting the boot, Nichola wants to see her and check the fitting and weight distribution.”
Och, aye. She had forgotten.
As Robena strolled away, Wren bounced excitedly. “My boot?”
It was so gratifying to hear her want to speak. “Aye, I brought it.” Had she not been holding the lassie, Wynda would’ve patted her satchel. “Do ye want to try it?”
“Nae shite!”
Her reply startled a laugh out of Wynda. “I thought we agreed ye were supposed to forget I accidentally taught ye that word.”
Wren grinned innocently. “Ye agreed.”
With a put-upon sigh, Wynda shifted the girl on her hip. “Help me find yer da.”
Luckily, the lassie knew exactly where Pherson was and pointed Wynda in the correct direction. The meadow along the north wall of the castle was usually a popular spot for archery contests or sparring, but just like the day she’d first—literally—fallen for Pherson, today he was the only one there.
Him, and a giant bird.
“Gerry,” Wren whispered, a big smile on her lips as she slid down Wynda’s leg to support herself on her one good foot.
Wynda clutched her hand, half in support, half in awe. “Geraldine,” she whispered in agreement. “She’s been with ye—him—the longest, aye?”
The lassie nodded mutely, her eyes on the falcon.
The big bird swooped high above, then turned and with a scream dove straight for them. Both females startled, but the bird had something else in her sights, and turned the abrupt dive into a skim mere feet above the wildflowers and grasses. With outstretched claws, she snatched up something small and gray and wriggling, then screamed again as she swept up into the sky.
Pherson stood stock-still in the middle of the small meadow, the tall heather brushing against his bare knees. His right arm was outstretched, his forearm covered in a leather gauntlet she recognized. He didn’t have to move; the falcon understood the command and aimed for him.
At the last moment, the bird shifted the prey to one set of talons and landed on Pherson’s outstretched forearm in a breath-taking display of skill, strength, and agility.
“Magnificent,” Wynda murmured, and it wasn’t until she felt Wren’s fingers squeeze hers that she realized she’d said it aloud.
Together they watched Pherson speak to the falcon. Then he pursed his lips—they heard the piercing, two-toned whistle—threw his arm forward, and Geraldine shot into the sky like an arrow released from a bow. She swooped back around and Pherson heaved the small prey animal into the air; she scooped it up mid-flight and let loose a shriek which sounded triumphant.
“Dinner,” whispered Wren, and Wynda agreed. Pherson had given the falcon back her prey to eat herself.
Even from this distance, she could see him smiling as he rested his hands against the small of his back—Wynda remembered that was where he kept his daggers—and began an easy lope toward them.
And she smiled in return, thrilled at the knowledge he wasn’t sorry to see her.
The last time they’d been together, he’d kissed her. He’d nibbled at her skin, he’d touched her the way no man had ever touched her before. He’d put his fingers on her core, and made her come apart.
It—he—had been magnificent.
But then he’d turned her around and sent her home, telling her he wasn’t right for her. Well, he was wrong, and she was more determined than ever to prove that to him.