Sense Or Reason?
The drawing room in Gille Chriost was small, but big enough to set a card table in. Fionnghall and Jack had brought in a big round table and the plan was to play cards and enjoy some whiskey with a few of Fionnghall’s men. It was late, and the sun had already set hours ago.
Jack poured a glass of whiskey for both of them and they sat at the table to wait for the men. Fionnghall was shuffling the deck to kill time. He was thinking about Marion and her situation.
They had gotten two leads yesterday. It was one step closer to finding her parents. And after she’d find them, she would leave. He had tried imagining what it would feel like, but he only reached a dead end. He couldn’t possibly let her go.
The past days had been something else. He had seen her smile, heard her laugh, and seen the warmth of her eyes. Her dark brown hair flowed like a waterfall and there was something hypnotizing in her walk.
On top of that, Deirdre loved her. She was something totally different and he couldn’t bear to have her leave.
“Jack…” Fionnghall started and then stopped abruptly.
Jack looked up and raised his eyebrows.
“Aye?”
“I reckon I’m in love with Marion,” he said, barely audible.
At first, Jack didn’t say anything. Instead, he was twirling the whiskey in the bottom of his glass. Then, slowly, a smile started creeping onto his face and he started laughing.
“I told ye so!” he finally said and slammed his hand on the table, victorious.
Fionnghall half-smiled, too.
“I think I will ask her to stay,” he continued, still shuffling the deck.
Jack stopped laughing. And leaned back in his chair. He had a smug expression on his face that Fionnghall hated. He hated admitting that he was wrong, but he had to give it to Jack on this one.
“How dae ye reckon she will respond?” Jack asked, genuinely curious.
“I cannae say. I have been thinkin’ of it fer some time now. She’s an English Lady, so maybe she will just laugh at the whole idea. After all, she was raised in a much more high-class manner than I could ever offer,” Fionnghall said.
“But she abandoned that world when she left, did she nae?” Jack asked, taking another gulp of whiskey.
“Sure, sure. In spite of that, I am afraid that askin’ her to stay would be most selfish,” Fionnghall replied. His heart was warm with love towards Marion, and he simply couldn’t deny it anymore. Admitting it to Jack felt like a heavy load was off his chest now. But it didn’t make the situation any easier.
“Have ye decided what to do about Lady MacDheorsa?” he asked with a serious tone this time.
“Nah,” Fionnghall said and exhaled.
“Well, there’s a pickle,” Jack said as three other men entered the room, all demanding a glass of whiskey and fighting over who got to deal first.
When the dim light of the morning started making its way through Marion’s window, she woke up but didn’t open her eyes yet. She saw the light through her eyelids and heard the noises from the stable. There was a little piece of excitement in her chest and for a moment, she didn’t remember why.
She took a deep breath and let herself sink deeper into her covers and thoughts. The day before had been very interesting in a lot of ways. The best part was that they finally had two names circled on the list and maybe, just maybe, she would be able to find what she had been looking for. It gave her hope, no matter how dim. Maybe this trip wasn’t going to be doomed, after all.
Her stomach was full of butterflies, still, from the evening before. She blushed all of a sudden, thinking about the event of last evening.
She had woken up last night with her head leaning towards the Laird’s shoulder. Though she wasn’t sorry for that, it hadn’t exactly been appropriate. No one in the coach had said anything, but Marion’s cheeks had instantly started burning.
She wondered what it would be like to see the Laird this morning. This thought excited her, so she finally opened her eyes and jumped out of the bed. After her morning routine, she headed downstairs for breakfast.
Deirdre and the Laird were already there, waiting for Marion to join them. They were chattering amongst themselves quietly. Today, surprisingly, they weren’t alone, because Jack had joined them. He was sitting where Marion normally sat. This sight intrigued her somewhat—Jack had never joined them for breakfast before.
“Good morning, I hope I haven’t kept you waiting,” she said, trying to avoid looking into the Laird’s eyes.
“Nae at all,” Deirdre said. “It is great timing of ye, though, I am starving,” she continued and grabbed a piece of bread from a basket.
“Jack, nice to see you, too, this morning,” Marion greeted, sitting next to Deirdre.
Jack smiled awkwardly and rubbed his neck.
“Uh… aye, our card games last night took a turn and we didn’t get one lick of sleep,” he chuckled. “So the Laird here asked me to join you for breakfast.”
“A bet is a bet, is it nae?” the Laird said. Marion didn’t understand this reference, and Deirdre didn’t even seem to notice.
Jack chuckled again and grabbed a bowl full of porridge.
“So, Lady Marion, what are yer plans now that we have two names circled on the list?” Jack asked and looked at Marion.
“Ah, I don’t really know, to be frank,” she said and furrowed her brows. She really hadn’t been thinking about the next steps at all.
“Might I suggest something?” the Laird asked. He directed the look of his warm eyes directly to Marion, whose heart jumped. She felt the butterflies flapping their wings in her stomach.
“Please,” Marion said.
“Since we have these two names now, it would be wise to focus all our efforts on finding these families. The best bet would be to return to Ridgemoore when we have more information about them. Most likely they reside there, or someone in the town kens them,” the Laird said.
“Yes, that sounds like a great plan. Deirdre, do you agree?” Marion asked her friend, who was focusing all her efforts on eating the food in front of her.
“Uh-huh, aye, absolutely,” she replied, but Marion wasn’t sure if she had even heard her.
Jack finished his breakfast first and he got up.
“If ye will excuse me, I have some horses to groom,” he said and gave a smile to the Laird. The he winked. Marion looked at the Laird, whose expression didn’t give anything away. This was strange.
“Jack, wait fer me,” Deirdre said and rose up as well. “Would ye tack me pony? I want to ride over to the Butlers to see how everythin’ is goin’,” she said. Deirdre winked at Marion on her way out. This was starting to feel like a joke she was left out of.
“I’d better go as well,” Marion said, but the Laird interrupted her motion to stand up. He placed his hand on Marion’s and it shot tingles up Marion’s whole arm.
“Would ye stay fer just a minute? I have somethin’ I wish to ask ye,” the Laird said. He was looking directly into Marion’s eyes now and though she didn’t mean to fall back on her seat, her legs gave out and she didn’t have a choice.
He looked unsure. He had never looked like that before, and Marion idly wondered what might have taken away that confidence he normally carried like an armor.
The Laird didn’t say anything for a few seconds, so Marion encouraged him.
“Yes?”
He pulled his hand off of Marion’s and took a deep breath.
“Uh… would ye meet me tonight in the garden? I believe it would be a good time fer us to discuss the next steps to take on yer search,” the Laird said. The confidence was now back and he leaned back in his chair, looking at Marion with warmth in his eyes. There was no fire or even a spark right now. But Marion had an odd feeling that this was not what he had been meaning to ask her.
“Of course, Laird Gille Chriost. At sundown?” Marion asked and made an effort to stand up. This time, the Laird didn’t stop her.
�
�If ye daenae mind,” the Laird said.
Marion nodded and left the room. But there was a nagging feeling in her chest that she was missing something.
The sun was starting to set and Marion looked out of the barn door. She had been riding Bells to give her some exercise and to get some time alone. The whole day, the Laird’s odd behavior at breakfast had been bothering her. The biggest question in Marion’s mind was the reason for meeting him in the garden later—usually, the Laird, Deirdre, and Marion all had dinner together.
She wasn’t sorry for this opportunity to spend some time alone with him, though. In fact, she had been hoping for that to happen for quite some time now. It wasn’t exactly easy to catch the Laird alone, because Deirdre was always around Marion, and the Laird was often surrounded by people.
“See you later, Bells,” Marion whispered and patted her mare on the neck. Bells was happily munching on her hay.
Marion stepped out of the barn into the cooler evening air. The sun was still up, but only barely. The sky was starting to turn red and Marion could feel a breeze coming from the north.
As busy as Marion had been, she hadn’t actually had a chance to get to know the garden yet. It was located behind the castle, and she needed to walk in the front, then out through the backdoor to get there. She was hoping that she wouldn’t run into Deirdre, who was studying in the library. It would be awkward to try and explain to her that the Laird had asked to meet her alone this evening. Though Deirdre would probably just be happy for the news.
Marion smiled faintly at the thought of Deirdre’s reaction, while she hurried through the yard towards the castle.
The hall of the castle was empty and Marion tiptoed quietly towards the back door.
“Lady Marion!” The exclaim made Marion jump.
“Oh, Miss Brook, you scared me,” Marion turned around and greeted a tall, slim woman with mouse-gray hair that was tightly in a bun behind her head. She was Deirdre’s maid. Marion liked this woman, as she seemed to take care of Deirdre just as well as Miss Keenan took care of her.
“I apologize, Lady Marion, I didnae mean to scare ye,” she said with a quiet voice, as if she were trying to make up for scaring her.
“It is quite all right, Miss Brook, how may I help you?”
Miss Brook’s face lit up with a smile like it always did when she spoke of Deirdre.
“Miss Deirdre would like to see you now, Lady Marion, if that is not too much trouble,” she asked. Somehow Marion got the feeling that despite the politeness, this wasn’t exactly a question. But Marion had elsewhere to be tonight.
“Miss Brook, thank you so much for relaying the message. But I am afraid I have to disappoint Deirdre tonight. Would you tell her that I will come and see her as soon as I am able?” Marion said, already taking steps towards the back door to let Miss Brook know that the conversation was over.
“Certainly, though I am sure that Miss Deirdre will be most disappointed,” she said with a suspicious look on her face. Marion only hoped that she wasn’t as much of a bloodhound as Miss Keenan when it came to secrets.
Marion smiled and turned around, trying to keep her steps even and calm as to not raise any unnecessary suspicion in the maid.
She reached the back door and glanced behind herself before opening it. Miss Brook was still there, but as soon as Marion turned to look at her, she disappeared through the kitchen door.
Rats, I hope she cannot see into the garden from the kitchen.
Marion closed the door slowly behind her.
The garden that opened in front of her was beautiful, there was simply no other word for it. There were dozens of tall, old trees with silver leaves that hung over the lawn, creating excellent shade for hot days. In the middle of it all was a fountain that made splashing noises.
Marion couldn’t see the Laird yet, so she decided to walk across the lawn to the back of the garden. She kept looking nervously behind herself, as she had a feeling of being watched. She shook her head quickly, trying to rid her mind of those thoughts.
“Lady Marion!”
Another call of her name made her jump again. This time it was the Laird, leaning nonchalantly against a tall, old tree.
“Oh, Lord, people have got to stop scaring me like this,” she said as she walked closer to the Laird.
“People only jump like that when they are up to somethin’,” he grinned. “Are ye up to somethin’?”
Marion tried to look upset, pressing her lips together and putting her hands on her hips.
“I don’t know. Am I? Meeting in secret in the garden after everyone else has already withdrawn into the castle,” Marion said, now so close to the Laird she could have touched him.
“In secret? Hardly,” he said. The Laird pressed his hand against Marion’s back, guiding her forward behind a tree and down a small path.
The path was winding downhill towards a rose garden that was hidden from view. It was protected by the tall, silver-leaved trees and their shadows. Ahead, Marion could see hundreds and hundreds of roses, all different shades of red. In the middle of it all were three benches that curved around to form a circle. They were covered by a white, wooden arch.
The smell from the rose garden was strong and it filled Marion’s nose and floated around them in the cool evening air.
Marion felt the Laird’s hand on her back as tingly as earlier in the breakfast room. His touch was warm and certain, guiding her down the hill towards the roses. He was only a few inches away from her and it caused the butterflies in her stomach to take flight. Apparently, these butterflies had made their home in Marion’s stomach.
“Marion… I apologize, may I call ye Marion?” the Laird asked and, to Marion’s disappointment, dropped his hand.
“Of course,” she replied.
Marion thought they were going to sit on the benches ahead, but instead, the Laird guided her around the roses.
“I am sure ye have already noticed that I am somewhat… fascinated by ye,” the Laird started carefully, not looking at Marion.
Marion bit her lip as her chest felt like it was on fire.
“Fascinated?” she asked with one side of her mouth curving up into a bit of a sarcastic smile.
The Laird looked at her now and smiled too, noticing her tone of voice.
“Ah, let us say… ye interest me quite a bit,” he specified.
Marion had been taught to not be pushy, especially around men, but she couldn’t help herself.
“How so?”
“It has… it has been a while since I have been interested in any person, in any way,” he started.
Marion looked confused, so he chuckled a little bit and continued.
“A long time ago, I used to ken a woman. I was completely mesmerized by her beauty and kind words. Turns out that she was merely playin’ me. To quote Jack’s always so wise words, “played me and I had no idea.” He shook his head. His face was a mix of disappointment and faded anger.
“What happened?” Marion asked, trying to sound calm, though a teeny flower of jealousy was now growing in her chest.
“Well… long story short, she was only after the title and me… wealth,” he said. “She disappeared as soon as she had appeared, but it left me very untrusting,” he explained.
They had now walked around the rose garden and it was starting to get darker. The air was cooling down, but Marion didn’t notice.
The Laird continued.
“But then… Jack brought ye here like a new treasure. Though I still find ye extremely stubborn,” he paused to look at Marion, “ye have made me alive again,” he finished.
Marion stopped in her tracks as the bubble of fire grew inside her chest. Was the Laird saying what she thought he was saying?
“I am not sure I understand,” Marion said carefully.
The Laird stopped as well and stepped closer to Marion. He put his hands on Marion’s shoulders, sending a vibration through her already agonizing body.
“Marion, I want ye,”
he said frankly. He looked deeply into Marion’s eyes. She felt like she had suddenly forgotten how to speak. The blaze in his eyes was something she had never seen before.
“I… what did you say?” Marion stuttered.
“Ye heard me. And I reckon ye care fer me, too, am I right?” the Laird said, his face now closer to Marion’s.
“Yes… you… fascinate me,” Marion said after getting her ability to speak finally back.
“I fascinate you?” he said and ran the tip of his finger down from Marion’s ear to her chin. He gently grabbed her chin between his thumb and index finger and lifted Marion’s chin up.
Captivating the Highlander: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 11
