Enraptured by the Highlander

“Truly,” Martha said as she perched her hip on Adelaine’s bedside. “In the past month, I have never seen you so happy or contented or driven. I knew without you saying it expressly that he was making you feel many emotions, and I never doubted that love would be one of them.”

“But…but now he’s gone,” she whispered in pain. “And I don’t think I will ever see him again. I was supposed to go with him but I stayed to make sure I didn’t give my father any reason to suspect me. Now I’m wondering if I’ve done the right thing.”

“Did he tell you anything?” Martha asked. “Did he tell you your feelings were returned?”

“Actually, he is the only one who said it,” Adelaine said, her tone tortured. “That is another thing I missed…saying that I love him. And now I might never get the chance again.”

Martha had no words to say to that but Adelaine did not expect her to have any. She looked with sympathy at her friend, lingering at her bedside with a lost look on her face. She reached out and held her hand. “I don’t expect you to say anything Martha. There is nothing really for you to say.”

“I wish I could,” Martha sighed. “Good night, My Lady.”

“Good night, Martha,” she responded knowing that a sleepless night was ahead of her.

Turning on her side, Adelaine folded an arm under her neck and stared unfeelingly at the fire. The dancing and flickering flames commanded her attention, but she did not feel any warmth. She was so cold inside knowing that Caelan was out there in the freezing, empty dark. Had he made it to his men? Or was he still wandering out there with no solid direction? Was he hungry, thirsty, tired? Was he wounded? Had she sent him off to his death?

The questions kept coming at her until dawn and her mind, still tired, felt no pe

ace whatsoever. Putting her housedress on, she moved from the bed to the window and stared dimly out at the keep. The building looked barren, like a mound of black rock in a field of white.

She stared at it, not really knowing what she expected to happen, if anything did happen at all. The opening of her door had her turning to see Martha coming in with a tray of tea and a covered plate. Martha, in her dark dress and sedately-combed hair, looked so composed that Adelaine knew that she in comparison looked a mess.

“My Lady, you’re awake,” Martha said with soft surprise.

“To be honest,” Adelaine replied wryly while tightening her pleats. “I never went to sleep.”

Closing the door with her heel, Martha rested the tray on the table. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Taking a seat, Adelaine took the warm cup, sipped, and nearly spat out her drink. She then laughed. “Cider, Martha?”

“I thought you might want something stronger than tea,” Martha explained. “Mrs. Hertha added honey and cinnamon to it to give it a little zing.”

“You know me so well,” Adelaine smiled while sipping the warm cider. “I just wish Father did so as well. I’ve made so many mistakes, Martha. So many…so some I wished I could take back. If only I had not been so naïve…”

A knock came on her door and she shut her mouth so quickly her teeth clicked. Martha went to answer it and saw another maid there, curtsying. “Good morning, My Lady. I apologize if I am interrupting but His Lordship is requesting you meet him in his office.”

Anxiety leaped into Adelaine’s chest. Her drink felt suddenly so unappetizing. In fact, she felt her stomach heave. Martha looked at her as she sat the cup down. “It’s all right Martha. Get a dress ready. Please tell my Father that I will be there presently.”

Standing, she went to her washbasin and wiped her face. The water was cold but she didn’t think the temperature could match the chill in her soul at the moment. She dressed in the thick burgundy dress and had her hair braided into one. With her shoes on, she went to her father’s office. The taps of her feet in the stone floor echoed hollowly as she went.

Arriving at the opened door, she knocked and went in. Her father’s bulky body was at the window with his hands clasped behind him. His fingers were knotted together and in a fist.

“Father?”

He half-turned to her. “Sit.”

The lord’s taciturn tone had her already nervous heart beating double but she did as he said and sat. “Is he truly gone?”

Harold’s face was grim but steady. “Yes he is, but that is not my concern. Please tell me why you went inside to see him almost daily? And don’t tell me that lie about going to get his confession. Why were you there?”

Chapter 26

The thuds of hooves under his body had Caelan feeling more invigorated than he had in months. The feeling of a war horse driving relentlessly over English terrain back to Scotland. The cool air of the dawn in his face was even more stimulating than the feeling of freedom. It was incentive to ride hard and without pause.

The Earl of Daffield must have found out about his absence by now and he, Artur and the three brothers could not dare afford to dally. As the horse galloped forward, his eyes were set before him but he had left his heart back in the dungeon he had just escaped from. Hell and high water were the only obstacles that might stop him from rallying his troops and going back to get Adelaine away from her tyrant father. And even if it was so, they were not going to stop him for long.

As he raced away, he fought to not think how he had laid his heart bare to Adelaine but she had not reciprocated. Fear. That was what he was telling himself why she had not said anything.

Words make everything become reality. Perhaps she felt that if she had said something, she couldn’t go back…