The Highlander's Enigmatic Bride: A Scottish Historical Romance Novel

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The Highlander's Enigmatic Bride: A Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 5

by Lydia Kendall


  Edan sighed once he closed the door behind them. “I dinnae ken what to do, Caitriona. How can we fix her?”

  “We cannae do it, Edan. We have to give her time is all. She will be back to normal when she’s good and ready. For now, just let her be at peace. Ye ken I’m right. We’re a stubborn lot,” Caitriona responded.

  “Aye, right we are. But I havnae a clue as to what will make her happy. I’m meant to be Laird, but I’m not exactly doing much it seems. Faither is gone, mother may as well be. Cormag is off killing folk…” he trailed off.

  “Who’d Cormag kill?” Caitriona asked with alarm.

  “James. It was Cormag. I dinnae ken what to do about it now because we cannae be having the Duke and all of England on oor doorstep to seek revenge. What am I to do?” he asked.

  “Ye have to deal with it here. Ye cannae do it publicly. They’d murder the lot of us. Deny it, lie, whatever ye must. Dinnae bring the English to oor home,” she said with resignation.

  “I ken. I’d rather murder Cormag meself than watch the English come in and kill us all with him,” Edan said.

  “So why dinnae ye do it? Kill him, I mean? Or have someone else do it? Public execution? Duel? Whatever ye want,” Caitriona suggested.

  “If we do that, word will get out. There’s no hiding it if we take such measures of justice and ye ken it’s true. I dinnae think it’ll work. Even putting him in a dungeon has risks. People ask too many questions, and I cannae answer them without the English knocking on me door,” he justified.

  “True…”

  “Hey, I forgot to ask ye,” Edan began. “Tell me about the maid. Where’s the girl from? Who’s her faither? We can ask a grand reward, ye ken. What can ye tell me?”

  “Very little. The maid was cleverer than I’d given her credit for. I truthfully thought I’d be able to get the best of her, but she’s slippery. Had me drop her at a right grand home. She entered, and I watched, waiting to report to ye. Something didnae sit right with me, though. So, after a wee while, I put on me best English accent and changed into one of them gowns I lifted from the rich one’s trunk. Then I went to the door and asked for me friend, the maid who’d just entered,” Caitriona added the last sentence with a well-executed English accent.

  “And then?” Edan prodded

  “Well, they told me she’d only come for a brief tea with her friend who worked there, and she’d left out the back. Slippery weasel she was. And I felt right daft for falling for the trick,” Caitriona said with light bitterness. Clearly, it was not her first priority in the world, but she still felt ashamed for letting it happen.

  “So ye dinnae ken who the girl’s faither is? Or her home?” he asked again.

  “Me Laird, I ken only that ye seem to be awfully distracted by the English wench and I’m nae the first to say it,” she said with a laugh.

  “Why is everyone on me case about her? I’m a man, she’s a woman. How can I ignore that? It’s only me natural instinct to notice her backside and that right bonnie mane of hers. As if ye’ve never noticed a man before,” he defended.

  “Not an Englishman!” Caitriona practically howled.

  “Ye right bloody better not. But, it wouldn’t do ye any harm to get to know the lass. She’s all alone here, and I’m sure she could use a friend. Someone to comfort her, ye ken. And ye’ll stop judging me perhaps, once ye do,” he urged.

  “If thou insisteth, me Laird,” Caitriona acquiesced with mocking formal English.

  “Then off ye go. Spend the day with her. Take her some books. Meantime I’ll be napping. I’m still knackered, and ye never did allow me the proper rest a man needs,” he said.

  Caitriona traipsed to Isabel’s room and knocked gently on the door.

  “Fair maiden!” she called. No answer came. “Oh prisoner of beauty!” she called again.

  The guard shuffled his feet and tried to hide the laugh that played on his lips.

  “What’s she doing in there that’s keeping her so busy? Ye didn’t send in a kilted warrior to entertain her, did ye?” Caitriona teased the guard.

  “Nae, me lady. I didnae do any such thing,” he replied, still smiling.

  “Yer lady, am I? I’ll accept that. Ye’ve got an awfully fine pair of shoulders there. Aye, yer lady I’ll be. Now can ye please open this door for me?” she asked with a flirtatious grin.

  On the other side of the door, Isabel was not to be found in the room. Caitriona pushed open the heavy door to the bathing room and saw that the prisoner was sitting, brushing her blonde curls.

  “Hey there, beauty. Me brother wishes us to be friends. Let’s do it. Tell me about yerself,” prodded Caitriona unceremoniously. Isabel was clearly caught off guard.

  “What exactly do you wish from me? Have you been sent for information?” she asked.

  “Nae, just that me brother, the Laird, worries ye be lonely. So tell me, have ye ever coupled with a man?” Caitriona asked bluntly.

  “Excuse me?” Isabel asked, affronted.

  “Ye ken what I mean, ye and a man, embraced in the dance of the doves? The way rabbits and sheep and dogs do. Have ye ever enjoyed the feel of a man?” she asked further.

  “I should think not! I am not married,” Isabel replied loudly.

  “Well then, I’ll be telling me brother this bit of information. It’s clear he likes ye, and I’ll bet ye that he’d be thrilled to ken that ye be ‘whole’ or whatever the term is,” Caitriona said.

  Isabel found herself intrigued by the conversation — more than she was willing to admit. Her small, white teeth chewed on a fingernail as was her nervous habit.

  “And you? Are you…whole?” she asked quietly.

  “Aye, for the time being. I’m not one to settle. I like to rile the men up now and then, but I’m waiting for one I think can handle me, keep up with me. No sense in being with any old brute the first time. That nasty Cormag, he kissed me once. But I’d never let him again. And I’ve taken me own fair few kisses. I just like to tease. I need a man with as much fire in his blood as I have in mine,” she reasoned.

  “And your brother? Why would he care whether or not I am whole? Has he…I mean, does he often seek such women?” Isabel asked, nervous that perhaps he did often look for women to be with.

  “Nae, he doesnae look for them. Plenty of women come searching for him, though. And if ye be asking me whether or not me brother has done the deed, that isnae anything I’m ever wanting to find out. It’s nae an image I’d like to consider. Although I think he’s considered it with ye,” she answered.

  “Well, that is a fact we had best not discuss again,” Isabel replied. Deep inside, she felt certain she wished to know more but knew it would go against her wishes for vengeance. No, better to leave it for now.

  Chapter 8

  Edan knocked on the door of the mysterious prisoner. He longed to see her eyes again. A full two days had passed since he had come to visit her, and despite his pride and his need for self-control, his desire had finally won out.

  “Who is it?” came a confused voice. Edan hadn’t previously waited for her approval to enter the room.

  “The Laird, Edan,” he replied.

  “You may enter,” she responded with false bravado. The guard unlocked and opened the door, allowing Edan to come into the room. The curtains were open, and the bright light was filling the space. Isabel was standing beside the window as she had grown accustomed to doing. She turned to him and placed a dainty hand on her womanly hip as if challenging him to say the right thing for once.

  “I trust ye had a good night’s rest?” he began, standing tall and confident.

  I cannae be weak because of her. I be a man and I’ll always be a man, woman or nae, he reminded himself.

  Isabel took in the sight of him standing there. Her eyes drifted from the thick, burgundy hair on his head to the stubble along his sharp jaw. His eyes could not be ignored, but for a quick moment, she allowed herself to steal a glance that ran from his solid biceps straining at the fab
ric of his shirt and down to the muscled legs that edged out of his kilt. For a moment she flashed in her imagination the sight of him running for miles on those legs. They could carry a man across the seas.

  And then she was back to herself. Edan was watching her watching him and a light of hope shown on his face through the arrogant smirk he had become so accustomed to showing her.

  “Yer eyes are beautiful, but they seem to like to wander,” he mocked.

  “I know not what you think you saw, but perhaps I was searching for a weak point, a place I might kick in my efforts to escape,” she replied with equal haughtiness.

  “Right, of course, ye were,” he said, grinning widely. In reply, he allowed her to watch as he took in the sight of her, long white-blonde curls, green eyes, full lips, and a slender neck. He trailed his eyes to her full breasts and small, corseted waist then to her wide hips that looked so inviting. Beneath the extra gown they’d allowed her to keep, he knew her legs and another mystery were hidden.

  “And what of your eyes?” she asked.

  “I’m a man, me eyes will travel on any woman with as fine a figure as ye have. No sense in denying ye are a right bonnie lass. Doesnae mean I would ever sink to the point of romancing with an English brat. But having ye here, locked in a room where I can come and enjoy the vision any time I wish? Well, that’s something I’m alright with,” he said.

  “You are just as much a brute as the others,” she accused. She shifted her weight and sat on the bed, still watching him.

  At least she doesnae think I’m soft, he reasoned.

  “Aye, right ye are, lass. I’m a brute. And ye are English. So that makes us equal then, now doesnae it?” he laughed.

  “And you have never cared for the English?” she asked, thinking of James, wondering how much of their friendship was truly an act.

  Edan’s face became serious.

  “Well, now, there’s a little more to it than that, lass. Indeed, I’ve had me friends among the English. One in particular. A good man he was. Saved me even, just a couple years ago. I was nearly killed in a battle, but something made him help me. I dinnae ken why,” Edan said.

  Careful how you pry, Isabel. Vague questions only, he cannot become suspicious of your questions, she thought.

  “So, if you have this grand friend among the English, how does he feel about your hatred for us? And why do you, indeed, hate us when you have this man by your side?” she asked. Isabel watched as Edan’s face fell to further sadness.

  “He’s nae with us anymore. Killed, just weeks ago,” he replied vaguely. He came and joined her, sitting on the other side of the large bed. Edan’s eyes remained on the floor.

  Isabel gasped in horror. “Oh no! What happened? How did he die?” It was quite the act, but it worked.

  “There still be many questions surrounding it. And to be honest, I’d catch hell for disclosing anything to an English woman. Ye see, me uncle, Callum, he was in charge, training me to be Laird which I just became days after me friend was killed. But I wasnae on the trek when he died. So, I dinnae ken exactly what took place. Now that I’m Laird, I’m meant to deal with the matter. It’s right complicated, and I’m nae certain what to do,” he said.

  Isabel listened as the lies seeped from Edan’s lips. How could he pretend that he had no knowledge of the attack prior? It was clearly staged, clearly planned. What a horrible liar he was for using her brother’s death to gain sympathy like this.

  “Have you learned who the responsible party was? I mean, since it was clearly not you,” she pushed.

  “Aye, I think I have me ideas, but I ken nothing for certain,” Edan replied. He knew he should not tell an English woman about these matters, and yet she was just a girl. What harm could she do?

  Isabel stared at him with hate.

  “I ken it wasnae us. It wasnae oor clan,” he said suddenly. “The complication is that it happened on oor land. But it wasnae anyone from the Mccallions. Ye can be sure of that.”

  Edan’s eyes finally rose to meet Isabel’s again. She buried her hatred with a look of false compassion. Edan believed the expression wholeheartedly and shifted closer to her.

  “Ye are right bonnie,” he said.

  “Thank you,” Isabel replied coldly.

  “Will ye just give me yer name?” he asked tenderly.

  “Never,” she said softly. In truth, she was saving that moment for when she stuck a blade in his belly. Until then, she wondered if allowing his affections to grow might improve her chances of gaining access to a weapon.

  “Then I am a very unfortunate man. I imagine yer name would be like a song in me mouth,” he said.

  “Please,” she began, as though fighting temptation and desire. “You must understand. You have abducted me. No matter how I may…want…to tell you about myself, I cannot.”

  The act was working, she found Edan’s eyes growing more desperate for her. Isabel thought about Caitriona’s words of wisdom that riling a man up could be fun. Mostly, Isabel thought it could be useful. She could use it all to her great advantage and bring Edan to his knees in a pool of blood.

  “How can I ensure yer stay is more pleasant?” he asked.

  She looked at him shyly. “I suppose it is a bit boring. You have promised me books, but I haven’t had any yet. And a regular bath would truly be a wonder. I think mostly, however, I would love something other than soup to eat,” she requested with a gentle laugh.

  “Aye, then all yer wishes will be taken into account, lass. I’ll do me best to make sure of it. What sort of books will ye be having then?” he asked.

  “It makes no difference to me, honestly. Anything to engage my mind in some entertainment or learning. Do not worry. I can hardly use books as a weapon,” she added with a flirtatious smile. If she could get him to focus on the books, perhaps he wouldn’t think so much about the food and her reasons for wanting something solid.

  “Right then, I will bring you some of me favorites. Anything else?” he asked.

  “Truly I would love to leave this room for even a moment. With as many guards as you’d like to accompany me. As much as I would love to return home, I understand that I have no such choice. Still, staying in this stuffy room is getting a bit dull,” she said.

  “Ye ken there is an easy way for ye to return home,” he said.

  “Oh? And what might that be?” Isabel asked.

  “Ye can tell me who yer faither is and we can get this ransom business out of the way. Then ye can head back to yer home and yer faither. It isnae hard,” he explained.

  “Yes, but you see, I cannot put him in such jeopardy. It is better that I am the unfortunate one than he. Besides, did you not give the duty of discovering my father’s identity to your beloved sister?” she asked, still wondering what had come of that.

  Edan tasted failure on his tongue.

  “As it happens, yer little maid is a clever one. She outsmarted even me own sister,” he confessed.

  “Charlotte is quite clever,” Isabel said, leaning in a little closer. Edan’s eyes could not help but wander to the perfect curvature of her breasts as they met in a long crease when she leaned forward.

  “Elyse — or whatever yer true name may be — what are ye planning to do if ye can never get home simply because ye have refused to tell me what it is I need to know?” he challenged softly.

  “Well, I suppose I shall be stuck here. Forever. With naught but you for my company,” she responded.

  Edan’s face moved toward hers, closing the gap to a mere whisper.

  “Does that make ye happy or miserable?” he asked.

  “Absolutely miserable,” Isabel replied with the same flirtatious grin as if telling him a lie.

  “Is that so?” he asked, feeling her light breath on his face.

  With a careless, “Not so much” reply, Isabel backed away and returned to her place by the window, casually leaving Edan alone to stew in his want.

  Chapter 9

  “Me Laird…Edan, yer uncle
has requested ye,” Robert said, sidling beside Edan where he stood in the stable with the horses.

  “Do ye ken why?” Edan asked.

  “Nae, only that he asked for ye,” came the reply.

  “Alright, then. Is he in his chambers?” Edan asked.

  “Aye, he is,” Robert said.

 

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