Beauty and the Beastly Highlander by Kenna Kendrick
Chapter Ten
True to his word, Finley had left first thing that morning, before Erna could even get out of bed. It was better that way, though, for everyone involved. She couldn’t imagine the embarrassment that she would feel once she would see him again.
But that was inevitable. Finley would eventually return, and she would have to keep her side of the deal by helping him with his speeches. She dreaded spending time alone with him, but what other choice did she have?
She could only hope that Finley felt as uncomfortable about their kiss as she did and that he would have someone acting as a buffer between them in every meeting that they would have. Lochlan always seemed to be around, after all. Who was to say that he wouldn’t be there when she and Finley would discuss clan matters?
But for all her embarrassment and her hopes that they would never be left alone again, Etna was constantly bombarded by memories of their kiss. It haunted her waking moments and even her nights. She dreamt of Finley every night, her traitorous mind providing her with images of him kissing her again, gentle and loving, making her crave him even more.
Her own mind had become a mystery to her. Her attraction to Finley demanded to be acknowledged, their kiss the catalyst that had started it all. There was something between them, a spark that she had never had with anyone else, a desire so strong that it was almost unbearable.
How long will he be gone? What will I do when I see him again?
At least, his departure meant that she could focus on Malina, who showed no signs of warming up to her. Etna had tried everything. She had tried approaching her with kindness, asking her questions about herself and doing things that she enjoyed. She had tried teaching with an iron fist, using firm discipline. She had tried leaving Malina to her own devices, and that seemed to be what the girl preferred, but it didn’t give Etna the results that she wanted.
Besides, what kind of tutor would she be if she didn’t actually teach?
With heavy steps, she made her way to the library, where Malina was bound to be. After her move to the castle, she had quickly found out that it was Malina’s favorite place and that she spent most of her time there. Perhaps it was because the library was the brightest room in the castle or because of the books that lined the walls, all the other worlds that Malina could visit simply by opening their covers. Either way, she was always there, and Etna soon found her curled up in her usual spot, in that large armchair that she had dragged all the way to the window.
Only she had no book in her hands, unlike every other time she had seen her. She had a little doll, one that Etna had seen many times before. She recognized it as her favorite one, a doll that she often carried around with her.
And now it was in pieces. Half of its head was hanging off, and its right arm had been cut clean off. Malina was holding the pieces in her hands, big, bulbous tears running down her cheeks.
“What happened to the doll, Malina?” Etna asked as she crouched down next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.
As always, Malina stayed silent, and Etna doubted that she would get an answer from him. Of course, the most likely culprit seemed to be one of the dogs that they kept at the palace, and one of the maids would be able to confirm that. But the culprit wasn’t as important as the fact that Malina’s doll was ruined.
Then again . . . is it?
“Malina, I have an idea,” Etna said, jumping to her feet. “Ye and yer doll stay here. I’ll be right back.”
With that, she scoured the corridors for a maid, and once she found one, she asked her for some sewing supplies. Surely, it wouldn’t be too difficult to reattach the doll’s head and arm. She patched up her own dresses all the time, and the doll was nothing but fabric and stuffing.
Armed with a needle and a thread, Etna made her way back to the library, where Malina had obediently stayed. It seemed to her as though she hadn’t moved at all, though the tears had ceased to fall from her eyes. It seemed like she had no more tears left, and she looked exhausted, even though it couldn’t have been too long since she had woken up.
“Everythin’ will be alright,” Etna said as she tried to pry the doll from Malina’s surprisingly strong grip. She didn’t want to let go, perhaps because she still didn’t trust her, she thought. “I’ll fix yer doll right up, Malina. I promise.”
Malina gave Etna a hopeful look and, after a moment of hesitation, she let her have the doll. Etna began to sew it slowly, carefully, ensuring that all the stuffing was in its proper place and that the pieces of fabric aligned correctly, just like they had before the doll was torn apart. Once she was done, there was no sign that it had been mauled.
“Here,” Etna said, handing the doll back to Malina, who looked at her with an expression of awe on her face. “She’s all healed up.”
Malina hesitated again, looking at Etna with wide eyes and drying her tears with her sleeve, something that Etna thought she would have to put a stop to. Then, before Etna knew it, Malina threw herself in her arms, one hand clutching onto the doll with a death grip.
“Thank ye,” Malina said.
It was only two words, but it was more than Malina had said in a few days, and Etna was happy about that. What made her even happier, though, was that Malina seemed to have completely forgotten whatever grudge it was that she had been holding against her ever since they met. Now she was smiling—no, beaming—at her, and her free hand came to wrap around her own.
Etna could hardly believe the change in her, but she didn’t want to say or do anything that could ruin the progress that she had made, and so she decided that for a few days, at least, she would have to be cautious when it came to their interactions. If it proved that Malina had warmed up to her for good, though, then Etna would finally be able to relax.
She had been on edge for days, thinking that the Laird or Arlene would kick her out of the castle for not making any progress with Malina and that she would never get to make enough money to move to Edinburgh. But now, progress had been made, and Etna was determined to do her best with the little girl.
She spent the rest of the morning teaching her geography, showing her maps and telling her the names of other countries. By noon, she had switched to French, and once they were done, Malina seemed exhausted. Etna could hardly blame her, especially after the doll incident that morning.
“I think it’s time for ye to sleep for a while,” Etna said as Malina yawned wide. “Come, let’s go.”
It was the first time that Malina willingly went for a nap, taking Etna’s hand and letting her lead her to her room. Usually, Etna had to fight her for it, as Malina refused to do as she was told, but not this time. Etna didn’t know if the lack of resistance came from her exhaustion or from the fact that she seemed to have changed her mind about her, but she suspected it was a bit of both.
“Nanna says ye’ll help Dadaidh with the clan,” Malina said, just as Etna tucked her into bed. Etna perched herself on the edge of the mattress, looking at her curiously.
“Aye, I suppose that’s right,” she said. It was the first time that Malina had spoken to her about the Laird, and she had done so unprompted. It sparked a hope within her that perhaps Malina would want to talk about her father more often, but as she was still testing the waters, Etna didn’t push.
“I think they’ll like him,” Malina said. “The people. I think they ought to like him.”
With that, Malina turned around and closed her eyes, leaving Etna with her mouth open.
Where did that come from?
If there was one thing that Etna knew for certain, children were more perceptive than people gave them credit for. Malina, especially, was bright and observant, and Etna doubted that much slipped past her.
Even though she had never seen the Laird around Malina in all the time that she had been there, she could only assume that the Laird visited his daughter every now and then, at least, if Malina spoke about him like that.
What else can I learn from her? What else will she tell me?
Etna didn’t dwell on it for too long, thinking that it was something for another time. Instead, she left the room, closing the door gently behind her, but jumped when she turned around and ran straight into Mairi.
“Ach, Mairi, ye scared me!” she said, giving her a relieved smile once she realized that she wasn’t a brigand or a thief or any sort of intruder. “What are ye doin’ here?”
“I just wanted to ask if ye were hungry, me lady,” Mairi said, though there was something odd about her, something that Mairi couldn’t quite pinpoint. Some sort of breathlessness and a flush on her cheeks. For a moment, Etna’s mind went to Lochlan, but then she remembered that he wasn’t there, that he had left with Finley that very morning.
Perhaps I spooked her as much as she spooked me!
“Ye ken, Mairi, if this place was just a wee brighter, perhaps we wouldna be walkin’ into each other,” Etna said with a sigh. “But thank ye. I’m verra hungry.”
“I suppose the rest of us have already learned to walk in the dark,” Mairi said. “It’s been a while since the Laird covered up the windows.”
At the mention of Finley, Etna was assaulted once again by the memory of their kiss. She could feel her cheeks reddening, heat coursing through her body and settling over her cheeks, and for a moment, she was glad about the darkness that helped conceal her blush. She couldn’t understand how merely bringing up Finley had such a profound effect on her, nor did she like it. She wanted to think that she was the master of her own emotions, of her own reactions. Her body, though, seemed to have a different idea.
“Ach, to hell with it,” Mairi said then, much to Etna’s surprise, as she walked to the window and pulled back the heavy fabric that covered it. It was late in the afternoon by then, but the sun still shone through the smattering of clouds, and the rays bathed that small part of the corridor in brilliant light. The darkness around it only served to make it seem even brighter, almost as bright as the smile on Mairi’s face when the warmth of the sun settled over her.
Etna couldn’t help but smile with her, Mairi’s enthusiasm for such a small thing infectious. Out of the window, she could see that the courtyard was busier than usual, livelier even, with the clansmen and women talking animatedly. It was such a change from what Etna was used to that she could hardly recognize the place as the one where she had spent so many weeks.
“Things change when the Laird isna here,” Mairi said, as though reading Etna’s mind.
Ye should be out there, Mairi,” Etna said. “Ye’re always in the castle.”
“Dinna fash yerself about me, me lady,” Mairi said, waving a hand dismissively. “Noo . . . yer tea?”
After having the tea that Mairi put together for her, Etna decided to work on Finley’s speeches, knowing that he would certainly want to go through some options once he would return. He and Lochlan had made it clear that he would need many of them as he would tour the villages, speeches that would rouse the spirit and make him as likable as possible.
She worked well into the night, pouring herself into it and writing three different speeches for the Laird, and only then did she allow herself to retire to her chambers for the night. Once she was free of responsibilities, though, she began to wonder when Finley would be back.
In the darkness of the night, it seemed like having him back in the castle would be a relief. Etna wanted to see him again; she wanted to talk to him again, even though she didn’t know what she could possibly say to him. As awkward as their reunion would be, she couldn’t help but wish that he would return soon.
And it wasn’t just talking to him that she wanted. She could still feel the phantom touch of his lips on her own, and she could think of nothing that she wanted more than for him to kiss her again.
Ach, what am I thinkin’? I must have gone insane.
It was the only logical explanation for her sudden eagerness to see him again. Every time she closed her eyes, he was right there, looking at her in the same way that he had done when they were alone, with that same heat in his gaze. Etna wanted to feel that heat again, even though she promised herself that she wouldn’t get any closer to the man.
But a lass can dream, can she na? I willna get any closer to him. I will only . . .I will only dream of it.
It sounded pathetic, even to her. She didn’t want to be the kind of woman who had some sort of silly infatuation with the man for whom she worked. She had heard the story many times, though most of the time it was a maid who was in love with a Laird, not a tutor. For someone like her, it was even more unbecoming. She couldn’t afford to show such affections, even if the mere thought of Finley tied her stomach in a knot and made her crave his touch.
Get it together. There’s na place for this in me life, na if I want to go back home.