A Hellion for the Highlander

Tentatively, she put her hand out, touching his shoulder. “Alexander, I’m right sorry to say this, but if it is nae here, it probably was fuel in the fire. Those flames were burnin’ uncommon hot, an’ there was still wood in the fireplace in yer room…”

To her horror, it was then she saw tears in his eyes, and when he leaned back from the pile, he reminded her of a lost boy.

Is that how I looked when I found me animals slaughtered? He looks like someone just died.

“Alexander?” she asked softly.

“It was me faither’s pin,” he said, his voice breaking a bit as he forced the words out. “An’ his faither’s, an’ his faither’s before him. When me faither—when he died in the Sinclair lands, Catherine got it to me. It was how she told me I was to be Laird now.”

“Catherine? Madame Sinclair?” Cicilia asked gently. “I dinnae ken she was yer sister. Her people love her.”

“Aye, she’s a good soul. Just like me mammy,” Alexander said wistfully. It made Cicilia’s heart stutter to hear him refer to his late mother as he must have as a child. He barely seemed to be talking to her, lost in a world of his own. “Me parents would be proud o’ her. But o’ me? What am I?”

“A good Laird,” Cicilia said firmly and without pause. “As ye well ken.”

“The people are scared o’ me,” Alexander replied.

“The people respect ye,” Cicilia countered. “An’ aye, ye could be a bit softer, an’ a little less harsh on yerself. Ye could stop hidin’ that ye’re a good man. But I understand. I had to harden up when me faither died, too. We’ve got more in common than I ever thought we would.”

Alexander said nothing to this, but a slight calmness appeared under his wild eyes. He let out a breath, and then to her surprise, he leaned his head on her shoulder, obviously exhausted.

Hesitantly, she waited for him to move. When he didn’t, she slowly raised her hand, running it soothingly through his hair. He mumbled something wordless and closed his eyes.

They sat like that for a while, her comforting him in his loss like he had comforted her in her own. Then she said quietly, “What was yer faither like?”

“A good man,” Alexander replied. “The best. He loved his people an’ he taught me to do the same. He kent I was different, that I become worried when things are out o’ order, but he taught me that it was nae a weakness. He and me Mither taught me to lean into it, to use it as a strength.”

Cicilia smiled, her fingers still running soothingly through his hair. “Just like me parents. They kent I was different from other lassies, an’ they taught me that it was nae a bad thing. Me faither always told me he was just as proud o’ all o’ us, boy or girl, dinnae matter.”

Alexander sounded like he had a smile on his face when he said, “I’m sorry that I never got to meet him.”

“Me to,” Cicilia agreed. “He had a lot o’ respect for yer faither, ye ken. Spoke very highly o’ him, even though they never saw eye to eye. Perhaps that’ll be us when I return home.”

Alexander laughed a little, leaning closer into her embrace. “Aye, perhaps.”

They sat in companionable silence for a little longer, then Cicilia asked, “The pin. It had a Latin etchin’, dinnae it? I cannae recall what it said.”

“Audentes fortuna iuvat,” Alexander repeated in the same tone of a reverent man in prayer. “It means—”

“Fortune favors the bold,” Cicilia finished. “Apt. Ye’re a brave man, Alexander. There are nae many who’d be willin’ to do what ye are for me.”

/> He sat up at last, and Cicilia found that she missed the gentle weight of his head on her shoulder. She turned to look at him and saw he was watching her exceptionally seriously.

“Cicilia,” he said. “I…I’m glad ye’re safe.”

She smiled gently. “An’ I ye, Laird,” she agreed.

Lord, how I wish he’d kiss me again.

She thought he might now. The air felt tense between them, and she saw an intense focus in his eyes that made her body react in a way as pleasant as it was frustrating.

But instead, he got to his feet. “Thank ye, Cicilia,” he said. “For comfortin’ me. I was bein’ ridiculous, gettin' so upset about a silly pin. I’ll see ye once ye’ve rested an’ we can discuss our next moves, all right?”

“Aye, of course,” Cicilia said, her heart aching a little as he moved away. She longed for him to return, to take her in his arms where she felt safe.

But he just smiled faintly at her and walked away.

“Alexander!” she called after him.