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Highlander's Trials of Fire

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“How can I nae?” he asked as he stroked her hair. “Ye are me lovely lass who’s gone through so much already. I only wish to make ye happy.”

“I am happy,” she lied.

Laird MacLagain did not respond, as if he also knew it was a lie. He continued to stroke her hair while they held each other.

Then, she relented, “As ye wish, Pa. I’ll try to court him at least. But when I show ye the reason I daenae trust him, ye must put aside any thought of our betrothal away, all right?”

Laird MacLagain chuckled. “Aye, lass.”

Jonet smiled against his chest. They simply held each other for a while longer, comforted by the other’s presence. Jonet did not want to admit to herself the other reason why she was so opposed to marrying him, why she would be opposed to marrying anyone.

The guilt she carried around with her was a jar of worms she did not dare to open.

Chapter 5

Jonet had another terrible dream. Filled with the horrors of the past, she had seen the faces of the men she had led to death, the men who had pledged their life to her only for it to be taken in the end. She lorded over their bodies with such anguish, tears streaming down her face and a twisted smile. She could not escape them. She could never be rid of the terror.

She woke in a sweat during the breaking dawn, gasping loudly into the air. She shot upward in her bed, and for a moment, she was unaware of her whereabouts. She could only see their faces and the fear that struck her was beyond anything she had felt before. Her rapidly beating heart was fast beginning to hurt and she clutched it out of desperation, hoping to ease the pain.

After a few moments, she began to calm down. Her bedroom swam back into focus, and her heartbeat slowed to a gentle throb. Jonet wiped her hand over her face as she slipped out of the bed.

She had not even noticed until she was halfway across the room that tears had wetted her cheeks. Her first intention was to go down to the scullery, knowing that Christal was awake. She always had a knack of calming her down, but never had her dreams brought real tears to the fore.

This is only getting worse and worse.

Wiping desperately at them, she left her room and headed straight to the scullery. Sure enough, Christal was already there, humming away while she worked on breakfast. She glanced up at Jonet’s approach.

The moment Christal saw her red cheeks and puffy eyes, she rushed over to her.

“What happened to ye, lass?” she demanded to know, sitting Jonet down on one of the stools nearby.

“I had another dream,” Jonet explained. “This one was worse than the others.”

“I can see that,” Christal said worriedly. “Ye want auld man’s milk?”

“Nay,” Jonet responded. She did not want anything more than to simply go back to bed. That was the only thing she could think of doing to be rid of the rising memories, but she was also afraid of those dreams returning. They did not occur every night, yet whenever they did, it would put Jonet in a state of fear.

“Ye’re gettin’ it anyway.?

?? Christal went off to make the milk. “Ye need the strength if ye wish to get through to today.”

“I could always go back to bed.”

“That willnae happen,” Christal spoke sternly. She had already brought out the eggs. “If ye wish to go back to that time when ye wouldnae leave ye bed for anythin’ then ye’ll have me to deal with.”

Usually, Jonet would smile at her threats. Now, she did not have the strength.

“Ye’re right. I doubt I’m goin’ to be able to sleep like this.”

Christal paused and sent her a despondent look. “That wasnae what I said at all, ye ken?”

Jonet nodded. Wishing to change the subject, she moved on to the only other thing she could think of.

“Do ye ken that me Faither wants me to marry a wealthy merchant? He asked for me hand in marriage just yesterday.”

“Is that so?” Christial sounded as surprised as she looked. “And I guess ye daenae wish to marry him.”

“I told me Faither I wouldnae marry a soul. Clearly, he ignored it.”



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