Enraptured by the Highlander

Her eyes blurred with glumness. “I’m going to miss you.”

“The offer is open if ye want to come with me,” he entreated, reaching out to cradle her face and press his thumb to her cheek. “I’ll protect ye.”

“I know,” her smile was faint. Edging up to the bars, she pressed her lips to his. “I’ll do my best. Just pray that there won’t be anything to stop us.”

His face lit up and then, his slow grin grew. Us… she said us.

Chapter 17

Walking away, Adelaine prayed her own words would not come back to haunt her. She had told Caelan that she hoped nothing would stop them. The word ‘us’ had slipped out but she did not regret it. What she did regret was not telling Caelan that her father would be home in two days. The reason Martha had called her back to the house yesterday was that a missive had come for her, from her father.

When she was given the letter, trepidation filled her chest. She opened the scroll with no air in her lungs. It was short and to the point, telling her that the proceedings at the Capital were getting too tedious for him and that he was getting exasperated with the King’s hemming and hawing and drawing out the proceedings.

If there was one thing about him, her father had no patience with delays. He was only coming home for a few days but was then going back to the Capital. What set her heart at ease though, was that there was no mention of Caelan’s execution. Her hopes rose.

Heading upstairs, she thought of what to say to Mr. Montfort. She knew he detested Caelan, so she had to say something to both appease his expectations but have something more to justify her coming back to see him.

She made it to the top f

loor and breathed in the cool, fresh air. Tybalt was leaning against a wall with his eyes down on the floor but flicked up to her when she came into view.

He came to attention quickly, “My Lady, how was it?”

“We spoke,” she said. “And he told me a good portion but I have to come back to get the rest of it.”

Tybalt huffed, “I suspected. My Lady, pardon me for being straightforward, but I think the Scot is delaying giving you the whole truth because he has…wicked intentions for you.”

Adelaine found it amusing that both men were warning her about the other. She shook her head and continued walking. “Even if that is, how could he act on any of them, Mister Montfort? He is locked up.”

“Regardless,” Tybalt’s tone was gruff as he opened the door for her. “I don’t trust him.”

Stopping again to put her cowl over her head, Adelaine gave him a reassuring smile. “Neither do I but I do thank you for your help and good intentions.”

Tybalt bowed, “My pleasure, My Lady.”

Carefully picking her way back to the house, as the snow on the walkways were wet slush, she accepted that Tybalt did have affection for her, but it could never be. Her heart was still tenderly aching after Caelan had said that she was the one claiming his heart. She had never loved a man, but if this feeling of her body walking on water and her heart soaring in the clouds when she thought of Caelan was not love, then she was afraid to know what real love was.

She entered the house and treaded softly to her father’s office. From the sounds she was hearing, her father’s steward was inside—again. She flattened her lips and went to her room. There was no way around it, she would have to go search later that night.

Entering the room, she discarded her cloak and sat. Thinking of going with Caelan to Scotland was tempting but then she looked around the room and felt her chest constrict. Could she abandon all this, a life she knew and a culture that respected her, for one she was not familiar with? As the daughter of the man who had imprisoned their Laird, would the people of Clan McLagen even accept her? She might have to work for their respect though.

It was a gamble and Father would never see me in the same way again if I did leave. He might even start a war on the McLagens for my sake. Could I live with blood on my hands for following my feelings?

Martha popped in briefly to ask her about supper and she just said to carry whatever Mrs. Hertha had available. She ate, washed up, said her prayers but did not dare to lie down. It was too much of a risk to tempt sleep. As the night crawled on and the moon rose to a height that was most likely midnight, she got up, trimmed her lamp low and crept out of the room.

She took the stairs timidly, moving one step at a time until she got to the bottom rung. Then shielding the tiny light with her hand, she went to her father’s office and gently pushed the door open. Hoping that the codex was still where she had shoved it, Adelaine went to the third shelf of the bookcase where she was sure she had put it.

It was gone. In fact, the whole bookshelf looked rearranged and she was plunged into despair.

I cannot search this whole thing from top to bottom again!

Her heart pained her, but she began to look, using the faint lamplight as anything brighter might show from under the door. Her senses were so fine-tuned that with the slightest movement from outside the door she froze like a statue while her heart was a beating drum in her ears.

She did not dare to try to look at the window to judge where the moon was, but kept searching. The oil was burning lower and lower, almost out, when she found the codex. Joy fluttered up inside her but her elation took a quick turn when she knocked a heavy tome from the shelf.

She was reaching for it when someone asked, “Who is in here?”

Terrified, she blew the lamp out, grabbed the codex and scrambled under the kneehole of her father’s desk, pulling her father’s chair close and holding both objects to her silently-heaving chest.