“I am eating.”
“Nay, ye’r not. Do not worry yerself, lass. Just eat.”
Charlotte nodded and pretended to eat even though the food tasted like cotton on her tongue. When the laird finished and stood, she pushed her plate and stood as well.
“Ye were nervous, lass. I told ye, do not worry yerself. Come, I’ll show ye something,” the laird said and walked out of the castle doors and into the barn. Charlotte followed, confused by the laird’s actions.
Charlotte first saw Rheon, the laird’s squire. He was brushing the mane of a very beautiful white horse. When the lad saw her, he smiled and stood aside.
“Good mornin’, m’lady,” he greeted. “This is Moon, the latest of the laird’s purchases.”
Charlotte looked at Connor who stood on the other side of the beast, rubbing its head.
“I was told she’s from a long line of great horses. She’d be a good investment,” the laird said, looking directly at her. Charlotte started rubbing the mare’s mane then.
“She’s very beautiful.”
“Aye, that she is,” Connor said, still looking at her. Charlotte could not help but feel her face heat. It seemed like the words were for her and not the horse. But of course she also knew that it was just wishful thinking on her part.
“How old is she?” she asked for nothing else to say.
“Two summers.”
“She’s still young. Yet she already looks so strong.”
“Aye. And she suits ye. She’s yours, Charlotte.”
Charlotte stared at Connor, disbelief clearly painted on her face. When she saw that the laird was smiling, a smile of her own broke her on her lips.
“Thank you, Sire. Thank you so much.”
“Would ye like to mount her? We can have a short stroll if ye want,” the laird offered and Charlotte nodded eagerly. This was the first time someone gave something this precious to her. She vowed she’d take care of the horse dearly.
When the laird helped her onto Moon’s back, she could not help but feel a shiver down her back. He held her waist carefully, almost reverently. And he touched it far longer than necessary. Charlotte did not know what to make of it. She just knew that she liked the laird’s touch on her.
After helping her, he mounted his own black stallion that he called Midnight. It was as black as the night. And when man and beast were together, they looked so strong nothing could defeat them.
The laird led her into the woods near the castle. His hunting ground, he said. During the stroll, the laird almost seemed… happy. Not like the cold laird she came to know. They laughed and shared stories about their childhood. Charlotte even shared her grief about losing the mother she never knew.
“Are ye tired, lass?” he asked after a while. They were strolling at a slow pace, enjoying the wilderness. They seemed like a normal happy couple. At least, that was what Charlotte thought.
“I am all right, Sire.”
“Aye, ye are tired. There is a river not far from here. We’ll stop there.”
Charlotte just nodded and let the laird lead her deeper in the woods. They came to a clearing, a place so nice Charlotte thought it would be nice to build a small house there. There were wildflowers everywhere, creating a soft bed for travelers. To build a house there would be perfect.
“Can we stop for a while here?” she asked. The laird looked back at her and smiled.
“Of course, Charlotte,” he said, jumping off his horse and helping her down. After tying the horses to a tree, they sat on a huge rock overlooking the flowers.
“Ye are very beautiful, lass,”
Charlotte was startled at what the laird said. It came out of nowhere. They were just talking, laughing. When the laird grew silent, Charlotte thought he was just tired. She did not expect to hear this from him.
“T-That—”
“Aye, forgive me. That came out wrong.” He was looking at her with longing and appreciation. He was looking at her eyes, searching for something. Of what, Charlotte was not sure.
“It… That’s all right…”
Charlotte did not know what pulled her to him. One moment, she was looking back at his eyes. The next, she was in his arms, kissing him as he was kissing her. Deep, slow and passionate.
“What have ye done to me?” the laird asked when they came up for air. “Have ye bewitched me? I have been thinkin’ of ye since the day I laid eyes on ye. Ye weaken me, tempting me to want things I vowed never to want again.”
At that, he kissed her again. Deeper. More passionate. He seemed to crave her. To want her like he never wanted another woman before. Not even Everlinde.
Charlotte, on her part, could not seem to stop him. She wanted him too. Very much so that she pulled him tighter to her, combing his head with her hand. His hair was soft, very soft. When the laird’s tongue entered her open mouth, she could not help but moan.
They were lost. Lost to the passion that now consumed them.
*****
Connor knew he had lost his mind. But he was now an animal, a man who had needs. He needed Charlotte now. He had been needing her since the moment he saw her, grime and all.
Standing, he carried Charlotte in his arms and to the bed of flowers they were admiring a few moments ago. He was still kissing her passionately, drinking from her like a thirsty man.
“I would ask for yer forgiveness, lass,” he said, looking at her clear blue eyes. He was still bounded by duty, a duty to protect the innocent, women and children, and not to force any woman, not even his betrothed, into this kind of act. “I must have lost me mind. Let us go back to the keep—”
“Shhh…” Charlotte shushed, kissing him again, inflaming his passion more. The laird closed his eyes. A man could just take too much torture. “I want this. I want you.”
Looking directly into her eyes, he saw passion there. He was not forcing her into anything.
The animal in him returned, wanting to taste what was his. And she was his. He kissed her again—her eyes, her cheeks, her mouth. Then, he started to remove her clothes one-by-one. The lass never even flinched, trust evident on her eyes. She also started stripping him of his garments.
When totally naked as the day they were born, Connor gasped at the sheer beauty before him. She was ripe, waiting for him to pluck her.
He kissed down her neck to her breasts, praising the two mounds equally before moving down to her navel. The lass was moaning, closing her eyes. It was the most pleasure she had ever felt before. And she felt even more when the laird explored her depths, making her scream. The laird’s tongue was skilled, tasting her anywhere, everywhere.
When Charlotte reached ecstasy, she thought she might have gone to heaven. She felt Connor mount her, kissing every inch of her body. When he reached her lips, he kissed her again, more passionate than before, if that was possible.
“Ye are mine now, lass,” he said before pushing home. Charlotte cried out because of the pain. She knew the first time would be painful. But no one prepared her for this.
“Shh, lass. I’m with ye,” the laird said, kissing her temple, her eyes, her mouth. He kept still, letting her adjust to his manhood inside her.
After a while, the pain seemed to ease. The laird moved a bit, and pleasure more than what she felt before engulfed her. She moaned louder, letting the laird know that she was now all right.
They moved together, each of them seeking to pleasure the other. They moved faster, frantic. The laird closed his eyes, praying that he would last until the lass would reach the highest pinnacle. When she did, he lost himself in her.
***
That afternoon, Connor was in the training area, teaching the young lads how to dodge and wield their swords when Rheon came running to him. He looked frantic, panting as if the evils of hell were after him. Connor seemed to be teaching the lads. But in his head, he could not help but remember her betrothed this morn. The way she moaned, trusting him with herself.
Aye, he would ask her to marry him. Tonight.
“What is it?” the laird asked, walking toward the panting lad. Rheon was roughly twelve years now. He was the second son of the clan MacFerson, a powerful highlands clan of whom Connor was allied with. As a part of their pact, Connor would have to take Rheon into his fold and teach him the ways of a warrior. After a couple of years, he would have to return the lad to his clan and be one of their noble warriors.
“A carriage was spotted in the east border. It has no company, just one carriage. No footman or even warriors. It also holds no banner, Sire.”
Connor frowned. Usually, his men would ride out and meet the traveler. He need not be concerned of such trivial matters.
“The Rangers know what to do,” the laird said, talking about a group of his men who were responsible for welcoming friends or negotiating with foes.
“Aye, they did, Sire.”
“Good. Then they have everything in control. Anyway, that might be me aunt. I sent for her this morn for a visit.”
“Sire…”
“Come on, lad. Yer wasting me time. Just tell me what it was and we would see what needs to be done.”
“A woman was in the carriage.”
Now, that was strange, Connor thought. Usually, a woman would have an escort. It was dangerous for anyone to travel alone, especially in the highlands.
“Ask the women to find the traveler a good dwelling. Clothe her and give her food.”
“Sire…”
“What?”
“The traveler was Everlinde, Sire.”
***
When the laird said they would be having a company, Charlotte did not expect the guest to be his former betrothed. Of course, Charlotte had learned of the laird’s love affair with Everlinde. The helpers talked, and they loved a good and interesting story to tell her. It was as if it was their greatest honor to tell her the juiciest gossip. When Charlotte heard of what happened, she understood why the laird acted as he did.
It was a heartbreaking betrayal. For your beloved to run away with your friend.
They were now in the dining room, eating their supper silently. This was the most awkward meal Charlotte has ever partaken to. Charlotte almost wished she pretended to have a head ache just to avoid this particular meal.
Evelinde was indeed very beautiful. There was no question why the laird fell for her. She had long dark hair, as black as the night. It was curly and framed her heart-shaped face perfectly. Her brown eyes were the size of saucers. They were doe-like, intending to make you feel at ease with her the moment she looked at you. She was also very lady-like. One would think she was bred in the wealthiest family in England.
They were perfect for each other, Charlotte thought. The strong handsome laird and the beautiful feminine lass.
When the laird glanced at Everlinde with something like sadness and adoration, Charlotte could not help but feel a pang in her chest. She knew she was jealous. Ever since they came to the keep, Charlotte knew the focus of the laird was on her. But now, she could not help but feel as if she was intruding on something very important. Something that she should not be a part of.
The laird was seated at the head of the table. Charlotte opposite him. Connor’s aunt, who came a couple of hours after Everlinde, was seated on the laird’s left. Everlinde on his right.
“So tell me, me dear,” Matilda, Connor’s aunt said, her gaze directed at Charlotte. “What is yer first impression of my nephew?”
Charlotte swallowed, feeling all eyes on her. Matilda was smiling, eager to lift the dark clouds in the room. She might have felt the tension too.
“Your nephew was very… manly,” Charlotte said, feeling her face get hot when she realized what she said. “I mean… when he came riding that scary beast and—”
“‘Tis okay, dear. Do not get too flustered. ‘Twas just a question,” Matilda said kindly when she noticed that Charlotte was starting to blubber. “Anyway, I know what ye mean. He is manly, aye.”
Matilda winked at Charlotte, almost laughing now. When Charlotte glanced at Connor, he was also looking at her. He even winked, making Charlotte smile.
“We have to talk,” Everlinde said to Connor, effectively stopping the light and almost fun conversation. “Con… ye have to hear me out.”
“Yer lucky I still received ye in me house, Evvy,” Connor answered, not looking at his former betrothed. His face was emotionless. But his eyes were angry and sad. Charlotte felt sorry for him.
“Con—”
“Eat. Then we can talk.”
Everlinde nodded, defeated. She started to pick at her food, waiting for the laird to finish his meal so that they could talk. Charlotte also picked at her food, suddenly not hungry any more. She pushed her food away and stood.
“My head hurts. I will just lie down for a bit. I’ll see you in the morning,” she said to no one in particular and started to walk away. She just walked outside the dining hall when she felt Connor hold her arm.
“I will escort ye to yer chamber, lass.”
“You do not have to. I will be fine on my own. Just go back to your guests—”
“I said I will escort ye, lass,” the laird’s voice was hard, commanding. He did not want her to argue, so she did not.
Neither one said anything on their way to Charlotte’s bedchamber. It was as if each was waiting for the other to talk first.
“We will be wed tomorrow at night fall,” the laird finally said. They were now in front of the door of her chamber. Duncan kissed her, but not as warm as his kiss on the clearing.
At that, Charlotte broke the kiss and quickly ran inside her chamber. She knew he was still outside. She did not hear her footfalls walking away. After a while, he left. That was when Charlotte cried.
*****
That morn, Charlotte woke up earlier than was her usual waking hour. Laila was already there, fixing her garments for the day.
“Good morn, m’lady,” Laila greeted, smiling at her.
“Good morning, Laila. Forgive me, but I think I will not be a good company. Can you leave me alone for some time?”
Laila looked at her curiously but still did as she was bid. When the door closed behind her friend, she stood and walked to the window.
It was certainly a very good morning. The sun was shining very brightly. The birds even chirped happily in the trees beside her window. When Charlotte heard some horses neighing, she looked down. Only to wish she hadn’t.
Connor and Everlinde were riding side by side, talking and laughing. Yes, they were laughing. Connor was atop his stallion, Midnight, and Everlinde was atop Moon.
Moon was hers, right? Just yesterday, the laird gave it to her. But now, another woman was mounting her. The woman the laird loved.
She was a fool to have fallen for the laird, her captor.
Charlotte frantically put on her riding habits and ran to the stables. She held the reigns of a black mare and led her out. When she mounted the beast, she felt calm. She would have a stroll herself. She does not need the laird.
Connor and Everlinde had not gone far from the keep when it happened. They were out in the fields riding and overlooking the lands where he and Everlinde grew together when he saw his squire frantically looking for him. There was a look on his face, a look between fear and panic, that instantly made him be put up his guard.
“What is it?” he yelled when Rheon was close enough to hear him. “Sire, ye have to come to the keep. The lass has gone mad!”
“What are ye sayin’?”
“The lass insisted that she wanted to go on a ride. She went to the barn and came out holdin’ Crow’s reigns and—”
As soon as he heard Crow’s name, he was off galloping toward the keep. Crow came from a family of great stallions. However, she was also the equivalent of a devil when it came to horses. She had a temper, throwing off anyone who attempted to ride her, Connor included.
“Sire!” Rheon shouted behind him but Connor’s mind was elsewhere. Duncan could also hear Everlinde shouting his name, but he
was not sure. His focus was on Charlotte. He needed to find her quickly.
He knew Rheon would also be riding at a neck pace following him. He ought to scold him. Riding that fast was dangerous and he did not want Rheon to be thrown off his horse, his neck broken. However, Duncan did not have the time to berate the boy. His bride was in danger and Connor could not help but imagine her lying in the dust with her neck broken.
Heart thumping so fast he was afraid he would have a heart attack, Duncan rode Midnight even faster, almost to the point that it was impossible for him to hold onto his reigns. It was good he had not gone far from the castle.
“Where is the lass?!” he shouted to his men on guard of the gates. “Did she come this way?”
“Nay, Sire. We didna see here!” came their answer. Shaking his head, he rode to the other side of the castle.
“Have ye seen the lass with Crow?” he asked the other guards, his voice unnaturally high.
“Aye, Sire. We saw her ridin’ in that direction,” the guard answered, pointing to the opposite direction where he came from. Smart lass. It was also the woods where he took her riding yesterday.
He rode to the woods, looking in every direction for the lass. Her body, even. There was a great possibility that she was thrown off that beast’s back.
“Charlotte!” he shouted. There was no response. Every time he did not hear a response, his fear of finding her dead was mounting. He was not used to this fear. But just thinking of Charlotte, her body lifeless somewhere, he almost wanted to howl and die himself.
When he came to the clearing, he saw the black mare tied to a tree. He went down, searching his surroundings for the lass. Then she saw some movement on the flowers. The lass. She was singing as if there was nothing in this world to worry about.
“Charlotte!”
The startled lass looked up, her eyes widening when she saw the angry laird.
“I have been shouting yer name throughout this blasted forest and ye are here picking wild flowers? Ye did not even respond?”
“I—”
“Do ye knew how dangerous it was for a lass to come riding here in the woods alone?” The laird was walking toward her now. As he walked forward, she would walk back. A step for a step. Until her back was one of the trees.
THE HEALING HEART Page 88
