Highlander's Trials of Fire

The man swallowed, straightening as he tried to pull himself together. Finally, he managed to get the words out.

“I thought he was asleep, but when I went nearer, I saw he wasnae breathing. He’s dead, Miss Jonet.”

That was when the world closed in on her.

Chapter 2

Three years later

Jonet thought the hallways were a little dimmer. Colder, almost. She no longer enjoyed the feel of the smooth stone beneath her feet as much as she used to, though she did focus all her attention onto the feeling. When she concentrated on the floor beneath her, she successfully distracted herself from her destination.

Unable to hold back her sigh, she came to a slow halt and gazed out of the window. The morning sun was already drifting into the afternoon, but she had spent nearly all her time in her bedroom, as she had been wont to do since that fated day three years ago.

So much time has passed and yet it doesnae feel like it.

Her dear betrothed, Murdock Anderson, had been found dead in his sleep three years ago. He was the first man she had ever loved, the only man she had ever given her heart to and he had died so suddenly. Ripped from her side like a passing wind. Without a word, without a goodbye, without a warning. Though Jonet had recovered from the shock, she still had not moved on from her sadness.

Shaking her head, she tried to put the past to the back of her mind and continued along her path. Even though the death of her beloved still weighed heavily on her, she knew she had to put it aside. She still had the responsibility of carrying along the Lairdship and so she had to marry. Once she had finally made the decision to do so, it had not taken long for her father to find a partner for her—who she happened to be heading towards right now.

His name was Henry Luther and he was nothing like Murdock.

Murdock was kind, smart, and down to earth. Henry, though he did not strike Jonet as a bad person, was much more serious and strait-laced. He was even a twinge conceited since he was the son of a very wealthy Laird. Even though he was very handsome, and always did his best to treat Jonet right, he would fall short in one aspect: she simply did not love him.

She emitted another sigh as she neared the den where she knew her father and Henry would be. Freya had come to inform her that they wished to see her and, much to Jonet’s reluctance, she knew it would be unwise to neglect her betrothed. After all, her father was really looking forward to the marriage.

Upon entering, they were already deep in conversation, their heads tilted back in harmonious laughter. They did not see her come in, not until she was almost upon them.

“Jonet!” her father, Alexander McTavish, Laird of MacLagain, boomed. His deep brown eyes sparkled with happiness as he waved her over. As usual, he had a goblet of ale already in hand and he wasted no time preparing one for Jonet, his dark red hair sticking wildly into the air.

While Laird MacLagain poured the ale, Jonet plastered a smile onto her face and faced her betrothed, whose eyes had been watching her ever since she came into the room. As usual, she was struck by how smoothly handsome he was, with silky blond hair and deep blue eyes. If she did not know better, Jonet might have thought he was a stranger to hard work. Yet she knew that his skill at hunting was what made her father like him so much.

“It’s good to see ye, Henry,” she said with a kind voice, because that was all she could manage. For some reason, Murdock’s death weighed even heavier on her today.

“And it is always good to see ye, as well, Jonet,” Henry responded. She held out her hand he kissed it gently, not taking her eyes off him for a moment. “I havenae seen ye in quite some time. I wondered if ye were all right.”

Unlike Murdock, he did not stay at the castle, but visited her often while they aimed to get to know each other. Jonet was only half as excited about the prospect.

“I admit, I was feeling a wee bit unwell this mornin’,” she stated smoothly. “But then I realized stayin’ in bed wasnae doing me a lick of good.”

“Ye should get some fresh air, Jonet,” Laird MacLagain cut in, handing Jonet her ale. She did not feel like touching it. Not today.

“That’s the plan, Father,” she said with a nod. “I was thinkin’ about goin’ out to the loch and goin’ for a swim. Would ye both like to join me?”

“Ah, what I would give to relax like that right now,” her father responded. “But I daenae think I will be able to. I will be goin’ into the village today.”

“And I,” Henry jumped in. “Plan to go huntin’.”

Jonet blinked in surprise.

“Huntin’, ye say?” She glanced at Henry to see that he was looking very pleased with himself. “Again?”

“Ye can never hunt too much, ye ken,” Henry claimed, downing his ale with one gulp. Jonet almost giggled at the line of liquid along his upper lip. It greatly contrasted her father’s large, thick beard.

“I thought ye both went yesterday. Did ye nae catch anythin’? I find that hard to believe.”

Laird MacLagain laughed heartily at that, while Henry’s eyes twinkled. Jonet frowned, feeling suddenly as if they were sharing a private joke.

“I wish to hunt yer favorite meat, Jonet,” he said in a smooth voice. “I do remember ye being very excited when venison was served at dinner a few nights ago and so I want to make ye that happy again. But ye shouldnae worry for me. I will be just fine.”