Highlander’s Broken Love by Fiona Faris

Chapter Fifteen

Elisabeth’s eyes danced across the table full of food, her mouth watering as Ian motioned her forward.

“Please, take a seat and eat as much as ye like,” he offered.

“But…” she paused, turning her eyes to him. “This food is for you. They have prepared it for you as their new laird.”

“And now I’m offerin’ it to ye,” he said, gesturing forward again. “If ye daenae go to the table soon, I’ll carry ye there,” he teased, pulling another smile from her. “Ye’re wastin’ away as it is; ye need the food.”

She felt that heat pooling across her skin again at the thought of him carrying her anywhere. Nevertheless, she hurried forward, heading straight to the table. There were all sorts of dishes, including fresh pies, bread, and cooked fish too. She picked up a plate and began to pile it high, being sure to add some of the smoked fish Ian had introduced to her before. She was so distracted by the thought of the food that it took her a minute to realize Ian had moved.

“Here,” he said, having appeared behind her. She whipped her head around to see him standing behind her, proffering a chair for her to take. His current position had put the two of them close together, and Elisabeth was finding it hard to tear her eyes away from him.

This close, she could smell his earthy scent, and it made her long to walk into his arms even more than she had earlier. The stubble across his chin was a tease, practically tormenting her with what it would be like to dance her fingers across his jaw. Those eyes were the hardest thing to stop looking at, though. They seemed to stare back at her with just as much intensity as she felt.

“A little distracted?” he said, breaking the silence. His lips turned up into a smile.

“A little,” she acknowledged, finally looking away and taking her seat in the chair he’d brought. She heard him chuckle as he took a step away.

“Well, at least I am nae the only one.” Hearing his words made her sit straight in the chair, and she let her gaze follow him around the room as he collected another chair. He brought it to the table and sat down at the very end, at a right angle to her position, but so close that he was within touching distance.

With her plate on the table, she leaned forward, desperate to talk to him just as he began to serve his own plateful. Before she could open her mouth, there was a knock on a wooden post outside the flap of the tent. She jumped in her seat.

“Me Laird?” a voice called.

“Enter, Bhaltair,” Ian said back. A second later, Bhaltair appeared, poking his head through the flap.

“I just wanted to check ye have everythin’ ye need?” Bhaltair asked, his manner much happier than she had seen him over the last few days. He was clearly fiercely loyal to Ian and thrilled at the turn of events.

“We do,” Ian confirmed with a nod. “Thank ye. Bhaltair, what have ye seen of Grier?”

“Keepin’ his head down,” Bhaltair said with his voice low. “He and his son havenae yet emerged from Hal’s tent.”

“Hmm,” Ian sat back in his chair, in deep thought. Elisabeth tried to concentrate on her food, picking at the smoked fish, but her eyes kept returning to him. “Set up a watch on the tent for the night. If they move, we should ken it. I daenae trust him nae to try somethin’.”

“Of course, me Laird,” Bhaltair smiled again and retreated from the tent, leaving them in peace.

“Ye jumped out of yer skin,” Ian said, causing Elisabeth to look back at him. “When Bhaltair knocked,” he explained, “are ye scared of him?”

“It isn’t that, it’s just…” Elisabeth could see the worry in his face. That concern plagued her and made the heated feeling she’d been enjoying before turn to a desperation to explain herself. “My father has always told me negative things about the Scottish. He told me you were all barbarians.”

“Ah, I see,” Ian winced and looked away from her, staring down at his plate.

“I do not think you are,” she said quickly, turning in her chair. “It’s just what he always said, then Laird Grier took me, and all those soldiers, what Jockie tried to…it was all so frightening.” She swallowed, watching as he looked back at her, his brow furrowed. “I guess I’m struggling to adjust to the idea that I’m now free here, that’s all. That I’m no longer a prisoner.”

“Well, I cannae say I’m surprised,” Ian acknowledged as he began to eat. “With how Grier and Jockie treated ye, it is only natural ye would think all of Scotland savage.”

“I don’t,” she said strongly, wanting him to believe her. “You’ve shown me differently.” She paused, watching as his lips turned up into a smile. “If most of Scotland are like you, then I think it a good-hearted place indeed.”

“I hope ye are right then,” he said, leaning forward and placing an elbow on the table. Elisabeth felt herself leaning toward him too, wanting to be just that little bit closer to him. “The world could do with less people like Grier in it, sadly. I fear Scotland has a fair few of them, probably about as many as England does. I want ye to ken, this clan was nae always like this. We didnae always live in tents and in castle ruins.”

“What was it like?” she asked, already finishing the smoked fish from her plate.

“Under me faither, it was successful. Very much so,” his smile became even greater as he mentioned his father. Elisabeth felt herself renewed by such a smile. “The castle was one of the largest in this part of Scotland. The towns too were all strong, with good tradin’ links, happy and healthy people. That was until the clan was attacked.”

“By who?” she asked.

“An Englishman,” he said sadly, with all traces of the smile gone. “Let us leave it at that. Before he even attacked though, Grier was runnin’ the clan into the ground. He took the people’s gains for himself and never invested in their protection, so when they were attacked, they couldnae survive it. Towns were burned to the ground and the castle was reduced to rubble.”

Elisabeth sat back in her chair as she listened to the awful story.

“What happened to the people?” she asked, unable to keep the concern out of her voice.

“Some retreated here to the camp,” he gestured toward the entrance of the tent to indicate the others around it. “Some went to other clans, like Alex’s, to start a new life. They kenned their way of life here was gone. I tell ye this because I want ye to ken what it was like here before. We didnae always live in such a primitive way.”

“I know,” she said sadly, thinking of all the families she had seen wandering around the camp. She thought of Seona and her simple acts of kindness in bringing Elisabeth water. There were good hearts here, kind people that never deserved to be attacked so. “To hear what my kin have done…” she paused, sighing for what had been lost, “it’s horrific.”

“We arenae responsible for what our kin do,” Ian said strongly, causing her to look back at him. “Remember that. I am nae more responsible for what Grier has done than ye are responsible for what yer kin did to this clan. There isnae need for ye to feel guilty.”

“I still do though,” she said with honesty. It felt like a great wrong had been done to these people, and it was truly abhorrent that any countryman of hers could have willingly been so cruel. “I feel like my eyes have been opened.”

“In what way?” he asked, leaning toward her again. She couldn’t resist and bent toward him, too. They were just inches apart as she gushed, confiding in him how she felt.

“My father has always told me certain things about the relationship between the English and the Scots. A couple of days here and a short conversation with you, and now I can see how wrong some of the things he said were. It’s as though I have been lied to my whole life. I just needed a Scotsman to show me that.” She was amazed when he smiled in response to her words.

“I’m glad I could help,” he said with a nod. “Ye sound like ye’re suddenly lookin’ at yer life in a new way.”

“I feel that I am,” she agreed.

“What was yer life like?” he asked.

“My life?” she repeated, surprised by the question.

“Aye,” as he spoke, he picked up more food from the center of the table and added it to her plate. “Ye ken about me life now, me imprisonment. What was yer life like?”

“Are you trying to feed me up?” she giggled as he piled her plate high.

“I am,” he said boldly. “I willnae have ye goin’ hungry while ye are me guest.”

“Thank you,” she said, picking at more of the food on her plate.

“So, what was yer life like?” he asked, prompting her on. Looking at Ian, she couldn’t resist telling him. There was something about him that made it very easy to trust him. Maybe it was what he had already done for her, or maybe it was this spark and heat between them; either way, she knew she could trust him.

“Rather quiet, in truth,” she explained. “We have always lived in the north of England as my father went on campaigns for the crown. I spent most days either reading or riding around the estate.”

“Ye are a good rider?” he asked.

“Very,” she said with a smile, “if that is not too arrogant to say.” Her words made him chuckle. She loved the sound, and instantly wanted to hear it again.

“That is nae arrogant; that is just bein’ confident in yer skill.”

“I like riding,” she explained. “I started when I was just three years old, riding with my mother. I suppose I then started riding alone to remember her after she died.”

“I am sorry to hear of her passin’,” Ian’s words were heartfelt; she could hear it in his tone.

“Thank you,” she smiled sadly. “It was a long time ago though. Some days, it’s hard to remember her. These days, I ride every day. It’s where I feel most at home.” To her surprise, Ian began to chuckle again. “Did I say something amusing?”

“Forgive me,” he said, trying to control his laughter, “it is just hard to picture one as slight and delicate as ye bein’ in charge of a tall steed.”

“I’m rather good at it, I’ll have you know,” she said in a challenging tone of voice, sitting tall in her seat. “I may be slender, but I’m a strong rider and can take charge very well.”

“I rather like the sound of that,” Ian’s voice went husky and deep, as though there was another meaning in it. She paused and watched him. Feeling the way his gaze was pinning her to the spot, the heat returned, and her cheeks reddened. “Have I made ye uncomfortable?”

“Not in the slightest,” she said, betraying a small smile.

“Ah, ye are hard to resist flirtin’ with, sithiche.” His words caused excitement to coil in her stomach.

“What does that mean?” she asked, her voice just a whisper. “You have used it before.”

“It is me special word for ye,” he admitted. “Though I might keep the actual translation a secret for a little longer yet. Now,” he said, returning to his food. “Ye were tellin’ me about yer life back home. When ye go back, what will ye be returnin’ to?”

“A future I do not want,” Elisabeth was surprised by her willingness to tell him the truth. It was as though she already felt a real friendship developing between the two of them, although that troublesome heat that so often stirred her body when he was around had never been part of any previous friendship with a man.

“What do ye mean?” he asked.

“My father has…arranged my future,” she said, picking at her food as she began to lose interest. “He intends for me to wed a duke from Cumbria.”

“Wed?” Ian repeated the word, his tone a mixture of shock and horror.

“He does,” she nodded sadly. “I have never met the duke, and I have no wish to marry him. My father says I have no choice in the matter.” Sitting so close to Ian and feeling the heat he could cause made it hard to imagine a future with any other man. She doubted a duke that was twice her age was going to stir the same feelings inside her.

“We always have choices, Elisabeth,” Ian said, his voice so strong that she lifted her head to look at him.

“I am sorry, my Laird, maybe you do. It is not so easy when you are a woman, and you have to follow your father’s instructions,” she felt imbued with confidence now. Speaking so openly would not be encouraged at her father’s dinner table. With Ian, no topic felt out of bounds.

“Ye daenae need to call me that,” he said. “Call me Ian. It is me name.” He paused, holding her gaze as though waiting for the plea to sink in. “And though I believe ye are right that it is nae easy in yer position to do as ye like, we always have a choice, Elisabeth. Remember that. It’s just those choices may nae always be easy to make.”

She smiled sadly at the idea.

“Like the choice you made today?” she asked, watching as he reached for a goblet and poured out some fresh mead for the two of them to drink.

“Exactly,” he said passing the goblet into her hand. As she reached for it, their fingers touched, but he showed no intention of letting go of the goblet just yet. Instead, he held onto it for longer, holding her attention as well as her fingers. “Today was nae an easy choice, but I kenned it was the right one. I daenae regret me decision. Now, the clan is safe. As are ye.” He released her and the goblet.

She felt a little breathless as she sipped the mead and watched him return to his food. Wanting to move the conversation on, she cleared her throat.

“You asked about my life and my future. Is there a woman in yours?” she asked, lowering her eyes to her plate, so she couldn’t see his expression. Despite wanting to know the answer, in reality, she knew how gutted she would feel if the answer was yes.

“There hasnae been a woman in me life for a long time,” he said slowly. She felt a sigh of relief escape her body. “Ye look pleased.”

“You didn’t have to point that out,” she said defensively, lifting her eyes to his; he chuckled in response.

“Why nae? I was disappointed to hear ye are betrothed to another,” he explained, leaning forward across the table toward her.

“It is not official. Not yet,” she said quickly, leaning toward him, as well.

“But it will be soon?” he asked, his voice quiet.

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly, distracted as she looked at the lines of his face.

“I should stay away from ye, sithiche,” he whispered. “Yet it is hard to.”

“Then, why stay away?” she asked, placing a hand on the table. At once, he moved his hand to place it over hers. The touch sent a tingle up her arm.

“Ye are forbidden,” he said, turning in his chair so that they were even closer together. She was reminded of the time he had rested his forehead against the bars of her cage. They were just as close now, only this time, there were no bars separating them. “Ye are delicate, too,” he murmured and brushed a finger away from her hand and up her forearm. “Ye should be cared for, cherished.”

“Why is it then you make me feel that way? That I’m already cared for?” she asked breathlessly, turning her gaze down to watch his fingers dance across her skin.

“Because I want to make ye feel like that,” he confessed. The barrier was crossed now, urging her to look back up at him. His eyes were directly in front of hers, his lips hovering above. “Ye are impossible to resist.”

“Then why are you resisting?” she asked, tilting her face up to him.

He was right; what they were suggesting between them was forbidden, but she didn’t care. She wanted to taste that excitement regardless.

“Ian, please,” she said, reaching up to him just a little more.

“Ah, sithiche,” he whispered before his lips pressed against hers. The kiss was sudden.

Elisabeth had never been kissed before, and the heated feeling of it was instant. What started as a press of lips together sent a spark through her body that made her want to reach out and hold him. The moment her hands found his shoulders, he moved too.

His hands reached for her chair and slid it out across the floor, closer to his, before he took her waist and pulled her off the seat, into his lap. She fell against his body, marveling at the heat and strength there—of the sensation of his chest pressed against hers.

She loved this stolen, forbidden moment, and with it came a new idea. It had been sparked by his words about making choices. Perhaps there was a way to take control of her own life. If she had her independence, then she could choose moments such as this and avoid marrying the duke in Cumbria.

Ian nibbled at her bottom lip then. Startled by it, she opened her lips; then he dove his tongue into her mouth. This was new territory, but as his tongue found hers, she felt ignited. She matched each stroke of his tongue until she was struggling to breathe. His hands were pulling at her waist, holding her to him, and her hands were dancing up his neck.

She didn’t want this heat to end.