The Silent Highlander (Highland Intrigue Trilogy 1)

Saber struggled to say, “Aye.”

“Do not force yourself to speak,” she cautioned gently. “You want your throat to improve not worsen.”

He had missed the tenderness of her voice and the concern in her soft green eyes he heard and saw now. He had also grown alarmed over his reaction to her gentle touch. Never had a delicate touch sparked his passion the way her touch had. He had warned himself to stay away that no good would come if he continued to see her, but he had an excuse. She was helping to heal his throat so his voice would return to him, the reason he saw her day after day and looked forward to each day—something he had not done in some time.

He clamped his lips shut and jabbed his finger toward the door, reminding her that he wanted to know about the man.

“That was Bram,” Elysia said as she got busy brewing the concoction and while she preferred not to discuss Bram or her predicament with him, delaying it would serve no purpose. He would learn of it soon enough from others. “He is one of the three warriors Chieftain Emory commands I choose from, in two weeks’ time, to wed. Bram claims that he intends to be the one I choose. Not that I want to choose any of the three. I would never wed a warrior, but according to the chieftain I have no choice but to pick one from the three.”

Saber sat at the news, the chair groaning as the full force of his size sunk down on it. Was that why she had come to him with a proposal of marriage, so she would not have to wed one of the three warriors?

He struggled to say her name, though it slipped more easily from his lips than he had expected. “Elysia.”

She spun around, hearing her name fall like a gentle caress. No admonishment or caution for him not to speak fell from her lips. She was too overjoyed to hear him speak her name.

His throat was too sore to say more and where he once did not care if he ever spoke again, since meeting Elysia he ached to call her by name and talk with her. He spoke not another word but used his hands to gesture. He pointed to her, then to himself, and then joined his hands together and shrugged.

It was easy to understand what he asked and though she did not want to be reminded of his rejection, she responded. “You want to know if the reason I asked you to wed me was to avoid marriage to the three warriors?”

Saber nodded.

She refused to lie to save herself from embarrassment. “No. I did not know of Chieftain Emory’s plan before I asked you to marry me. It seemed a reasonable thing to do. At least I thought so at the time.”

She thought he might offer something, a word, a gesture, to explain why he refused her proposal, but he remained as silent as when she had asked him. She returned to preparing the concoction, his harsh silence stirring memories of his rejection and feeling the sting of it all over again and wishing she was brave enough not to let it hurt her.

The silence was too much for her as was the thought that he would see her pain. She avoided turning around when she said, “You should not miss a day of the brew or the syrup. If you make sure to follow a daily schedule of both, I would not be surprised if your voice was restored within the month.”

She winced at her own words, realizing the consequences that came with them. How could she see him every day knowing he did not care for her as she did him and that she would be forced to wed someone else?

Elysia did not know what made her say it, perhaps it was to save further embarrassment, or to regain some of her pride. She turned to face him. “You need not worry. I will not ask you to marry me again.”

Saber pointed to the brew bubbling in the pot over the flames and nodded.

How could she feel joy and sadness at the same time? She was happy that she would see him daily once again and yet sorrow lingered along with the joy. She wished he would offer a hint of why he would not wed her. It might be a good reason and that would help ease her hurt. And what if seeing him every day had her caring for him even more than she already did? How then would she wed a stranger in two weeks’ time?

“I am pleased you will continue to do what you must to heal your throat. It will be wonderful for you to have a voice again,” she said and silence once again returned between them.