Sacrificing his Highland Heart by Kenna Kendrick
Chapter Twenty-Two
Rose was in her chamber washing and dressing. She felt guilty about leaving Euan that morning, but she was still a little nervous about seeing him in the light of day after their night of wanton passion. Three times they had had each other, and each time, she and Euan explored new positions, new places, and she’d reached new heights of pleasure. It seemed she couldn’t get enough of being in his arms, and in the morning when she woke up with him at her side, she smiled.
Perhaps life with Euan wouldn’t be so terrible. They could live like this, husband and wife, raise a child, live a life in service of the clan. She could forget the past and what he had done to bring her there. Last night was even more intimate than the night in the forest. He was tender, caring, whispering sweet compliments in her ear, and a few times, he’d even made her laugh with his teasing and his jokes. Her heart was softening towards him more and more.
After she splashed cool water on her face and looked at herself in the mirror, she said, “Could this be love?” Her heart fluttered a little at the thought. It certainly felt like love, if love was what she had heard it to be. Only one person had talked to her about love, a young girl in the village near her father’s estate.
She had fallen in love with one of the other villagers and told her, “Oh, Rose, it is a beautiful thing. Your heart feels full, and all you can think about is him. It’s like a gift each time you get to see him, and you cannot get enough of him!”
Rose thought she was feeling something like that, but as she dried her face with a rough cloth, she brought her mind back to reality. In the end, that young man her friend was so in love with ended up beating his wife every night for the five years they were married until he died in the war. Her friend wasn’t even sad that he’d died, only finally relieved that she was free of his violent clutches.
“No, it cannot be. I do not think I even know what love is or if it really exists.” Her parents had been kind and attentive to one another, but she wasn’t sure if there had been real, passionate love there. She winced to imagine her parents experiencing the bliss of the bedroom like she was experiencing with Euan. Mrs. Drummond clearly hadn’t felt anything akin to love in her own marriage, but perhaps there was someone else to ask.
Rose was resolved to speak to Siobhan that very day. Siobhan would understand and would help set her to rights. Siobhan wasn’t the sort of woman who let a handsome face and a few kisses get in the way of sense. Or so she hoped. Walter had mysteriously disappeared the day before, and she wondered if he had gone off to spend time with Siobhan in the village. Rose wondered if Siobhan let him.
“No, I shall have to be strong. It is just desire, physical passion, that is all. The poets describe it. The artists portray it. I must think of Mars and Venus. There is no love there, only a passionate affair. That is all Euan, and I are to each other, yes.” She nodded her head, trying to convince herself. She couldn’t fall in love with her husband, and even if she already had, which she wasn’t admitting to, there was no chance he was going to know about it. He had already treated her coldly once after their first bout of lovemaking. She was not about to let him do it again without her doing the same.
So Susan helped her to dress, and she held her shoulders high as she marched to breakfast. She was a proud lady of a Scottish clan, and she would hold herself as such. Even as she practiced her new courage and new persona, she flushed to remember just how bold she had been the night before. Stripping before Euan like a common woman, practically begging the man to make love to her.
He had done just as she asked and had done a very thorough job of it. Rose pulled at the sleeves of her gown, anything to stop the fabric from feeling too tight and warm. She could feel the bumps rise on her skin as well as a layer of sweat at the memory. Had she been too bold? Would Euan be disgusted by it?
“Why should that matter?” she said aloud. Even though she was attempting to be courageous, she was greatly relieved to find no one else in the hall. She could eat on her own without any distractions of that warm, uncomfortable nature.
“My lady,” a servant appeared at the far doorway to the hall. “A good morning tae ye.”
“Good morning, Daniel,” Rose said, hoping that the thoughts rushing through her mind weren’t showing on her face.
“A letter has come for ye, my lady.” Daniel leaned over and handed her a letter. Rose smiled, glad for a new distraction to begin her day.
“Thank you, Daniel. And have ye sent my other letter from yesterday?”
“Aye, we have sent it along with Laird Euan’s letter this morning.”
“I see. Thank you.” Rose smiled again, and Daniel left the room with a slight bow. She was curious about who Euan was writing to, but she pushed it from her mind when she saw the letter was from Henry.
Dear Rose,
I have had enough now. You have told me of your husband’s lack of “interest,” and you have told me about the castle. I think we can muster enough men to take it. All we ask for is for you in return, and that is all. You can return to England, and the marriage can be annulled without question. You can live your life here in England once more and find yourself an English husband. I will come in a few days.
Henry
All thoughts of loving Euan slipped from Rose’s mind, and all she could feel was a deep, darkening dread in the pit of her stomach. Without another second, she crumpled up Henry’s letter and threw it into the fire to listen to its satisfying crackle.
* * *
Euan returned home to darkness. The castle was like a giant monster in the night, and he smiled to remember just how much he had feared it as a child. Occasionally, his father would let him ride out with him to various clans, and they would often return late, to his mother’s chagrin. He had always been grateful as a young boy for the feel of his father’s warm and strong arms about him as they rode. This was especially true when they came upon the castle in the center of its green lands, looking to young Euan like a giant hound ready to devour all who came close.
Now it was his home, his land to rule, or rather his hound to control, and the thought gave him courage against the fear of darkness. It was a long time since he’d ridden without fear. During the war, when he was able to return home to his lands, there was still the niggling fear that traitors or English were about as the border was not too far off. It would’ve been foolhardy to ride in the darkness alone.
However, right then, Euan was dulled by ale, and his belly was full after helping with the first day of the village’s planting and feasting with them. They were the best farmers of his clan, and as he helped them, he knew they appreciated his being there. It had been a tradition of lairds as far back as he could remember that the lairds would be present and would get down in the dirt just the same as any farmer on the first day of planting. That was one of Euan’s favorite and least favorite traditions of his people.
He didn’t like the work, but it humbled him, and he needed humbling. He was constantly reminded of that fact, and now with Rose Sayer about, filling his mind and his every sense, he needed it more than ever. Last night with her was incredible, and it threatened to make him feel like a better man. He didn’t want to think that way. He wanted to be the same old and hardened laird that had gotten him to this point in the life of his clan. He had nearly wavered in his goal to keep his walls up against his wife when one of the young widows approached him during one of the mealtimes that day.
“Laird Rede, ye have been so good tae us. I ken that my relatives in the far McTavish clan tae the north donnae experience such kindness and aid as ye give us. And none of them are blessed with such a wife as ye. Such kindness and gentleness. Such beauty! Yer wife spoke some very kind words tae me at the festival when I told her about the death of my first child.” The widow touched her chest, and there were tears in her eyes. “I just wanted ye tae ken that she made my heart full and feel like it hasnae felt in many a season. Tell her that Ann thinks of her.”
Then the woman left him, and Euan felt a painful twisting in his gut. If Ann had stayed any longer, he was sure that he would have broken down and told her just how wonderful his wife was. How she was a blessing to him and surprised and excited him at every turn. He had come to respect her deeply and was continually amazed at the courage she’d shown by following through with his threat of marriage on the pain of her father’s death.
Instead, he thanked the woman before she left and returned to the fields with the men, hoping that backbreaking work would keep his mind clear of love and the endless chasm it seemed to open. The barking of a far-off dog brought Euan to his senses. He was close to home, the torches of the castle coming into view. He had told his men of his late arrival and could see the guards on the castle walls. They were so used to searching for enemies, so hardened by it that he wondered if it surprised them anymore to see dark shapes moving in the night.
As he approached the bridge, he held up a hand in greeting, and the men at the gate moved aside, calling for it to open. He jumped down from his horse and handed the reins to one of the guards, feeling a new wave of overwhelming fatigue. “Good night tae ye, lads,”
“Good night, laird.”
“Keep an eye out,” he reminded, the words rolling off his tongue with ease as he had said them so many times.
“Always,” the young men replied with chuckles.
Inside, Euan sighed as he felt the familiar warmth and smelled the familiar scent of his home. It had been a long day away, and he was eager to return to all that was warm and comfortable. He was full after the final meal with the people, but he called for warm wine to be brought to the library. It was his way. When he was terribly fatigued, he would go to the library and read or simply sit, remembering his mother or drinking in the silence that found him there. Just like in his study, it was a place to release, to be at one with himself in the quiet.
A servant found him quickly after retiring to the library and laid the bottle and glass on the table next to him. “Here ye are, Laird.”
“Thank ye, lad,” he said, and the servant scurried away. Kicking up his legs, Euan poured himself a glass and leaned back in the soft chair he had sat in so often over the years, staring into the happy, welcome fire which crackled in the hearth. This was peace, and finally, strangely, he was feeling partly calm.
“Or perhaps I am too tired tae even consider nae feeling calm,” he chuckled to himself.
“You are tired, Laird Rede?”
Euan jumped at the sound of a gentle English accent breaking into his silent space. He nearly spilled the wine as he turned around to see Rose emerging from the shelves. “Forgive me for startling you,” she said, looking soft and lovely in the firelight. She wore her woolen robe, and when Euan caught sight of it, his mind instantly flashed back to the night before, when she’d boldly removed it and broken down all his defenses. She was holding a candle in her hand, and he was surprised he hadn’t noticed the dot of light amidst the dimness of the library.
“Aye, lass, aye. Tired from all the planting.” He turned back to the fire. Looking at her was too difficult.
“You were planting?” She sat down beside him and looked austere if not a little cold, even though her voice betrayed her warmth and concern.
“Aye. It is the custom of the lairds tae help on the first day of planting. It is difficult work.” He found himself opening up in front of her again, and he wished she would leave so that he could have peace again. He didn’t want to speak to her. No, that wasn’t true. He couldn’t talk to her because she looked so warm and welcoming and beautiful, and he would’ve liked nothing better than to take her to bed again and tell her just how much he had thought of her that day.
“I wish you would have told me, Euan. I would have accompanied you.”
Euan laughed. “You know of planting? You have done it before?” He was met with silence, and he turned to see Rose’s angry look.
“I am a knight’s daughter, Euan. Our land also contains villagers and farmers. We are expected to help. It’s true, my father did not allow me, but that did not mean that I did my best to help when he was not around, especially during the war years. And I am Lady Rede now. I want to assist and follow the traditions as they are.”
Euan paused, admiration for his wife flooding through his chest again. Instinctively, he leaned over and put his hand on Rose’s, which was resting on the arm of her chair. She looked down at it, and he did too. For a few seconds, both were staring down at the contact. Why did it continually feel so strange and intimate to touch her after everything they had done in the bedroom? Euan pulled away.
“Ye are a good woman,” he said. “I cannae imagine a wealthy English lass doing the like.”
“No, I am sure you cannot. But we are not all as terrible as you might imagine,” Rose snapped back, and she stood, turning to leave. “I shall leave you to your peace.”
“Nae, lass,” Euan said, surprising himself, and he reached out to grab her when a sharp pain from the top of his back made him yelp.
Rose was back at his side in an instant. “What is it?” she cried, touching him on the shoulder and the upper back. Her face was close to his, and she wasn’t looking at him, but he was looking at her. She kept talking. “You must have hurt yourself during the farming today. And you did not get much sleep the night before. I suppose I am to blame for that,” she said as easily as if she was discussing the weather.
Euan found himself laughing. With her fingers attempting to find where his muscle hurt exactly, Euan lifted his hand to her cheek, stroking his thumb across the softness of it. Her eyes quickly turned to him, and he smiled. His thumb moved to rub across her lovely, thick bottom lip. “Ye are most certainly nae tae blame, lass. Last evening was….”
“Was what?” a man’s voice bellowed, filling the library with its annoying mirth. “Do tell, Euan, for I would love tae hear what ye have tae say.”
