A Hellion for the Highlander

“What is this?” the Laird demanded. “Where did ye find this? Who’s handwritin’ is it?” His voice was angry. “Is it a match to the threat on the pig fence? Cicilia, have ye seen anybody suspicious?”

“Nay,” Cicilia replied in a shaking voice as Alexander handed Nathair the note. “Nay, it doesn’ae match, an’ I dinnae have a clue at all who could o’ written it. I went to bed after puttin’ the twins down to sleep tonight—Jeanie was still readin’ them a story, so I left her to it—and there it was on me pillow.”

Her eyes widened, and she sounded scared. “The twins! Ye dinnae think I’ve left them in danger?”

“Nay,” Nathair said. “If Jeanie’s wi’ them, they’re safe.”

Alexander nodded. “Nae body is fool enough to try somethin’ when half the castle is awake. Dinnae ye worry, Cicilia. We’ll get to the bottom o’ this, I swear it.”

Cicilia nodded, but then her face crumpled, and she started to cry once more. “I just wanted to run me faither’s farm,” she sobbed, and Alexander held her tight to his chest.

Nathair averted his eyes, suddenly feeling like an intruder. “I’ll go check on the bairns and Jeanie,” he said and left the room.

As he walked along the corridor, he looked at the note, and his blood ran cold. Whoever had left it, whether it be a lousy jape or a genuine threat, must be dealt with quickly.

“This is yer second warning. Give up the O’Donnel Farm now, or the third warning will be something worse than just a pig. I hope ye have sweet dreams, Miss Cicilia. Ye and yer little siblings both.”

Chapter 17

Astra Inclinant

The Stars Incline Us

Cicilia’s rest was, perhaps unsurprisingly, very broken over the hours after she lay down to try to sleep once more. Alexander had assured her that Nathair would comb the castle for the would-be assailant and that the best thing Cicilia could do for herself was to sleep.

So she’d headed back to her bedroom and lay in the large, plush bed, the down-feather pillows cushioning her like a cloud-given embrace. For all that they aided in her rest, though, she may as well have been laying on hard rocks.

Every time I close me eyes, I see the deid animals, the message on the fence, the blazin’ fire o’ me home. An’ whoever may be threatenin’ me is here.

She tossed and turned, trying to will herself to sleep, but the more she tried, the less she seemed capable. It was still pitch dark outside, no sign of the sun, when she eventually gave up and shot out of bed.

I’ll just go an’ check on the bairns. After that, I’ll be able to sleep.

She knew that was irrational—Jeanie was sleeping in the room adjoining the twins that night, and Cicilia knew that her friend would never let anything happen to them. But she felt so restless that she had to do s

omething. So she grabbed her dressing gown and house shoes, and covering up quickly, headed to the door of her room.

“Ow!” a voice yelled, and Cicilia screamed as her foot squished into something soft as she stepped outside.

She jumped back inside, ready to slam the door, her eyes darting to the groaning figure on the ground. Could she reach the fire-poker quickly enough to defend herself? Could she—?

“Alexander?” she asked, confused.

It was Alexander, rubbing his belly where she’d accidentally trodden on him. He had been lying on the floor, curled up like a puppy at her door.

Was he sleepin’ there?!

“Cicilia,” he groaned. “For such a wee lass, ye’ve got a heavy step.”

“What are ye doin’ outside me door like this?” she asked uncertainly. “Why in the world are ye sleepin’ on the floor?”

“I…” he said, getting to his feet and looking faintly embarrassed as he did so. “I was, er… Ye see, Cicilia, yer note may have given me a wee bit more o’ a fright than I initially wanted to let on. I really dinnae like the thought o’ leavin’ ye here all alone.”

Cicilia blinked. “An’…ye couldn’ae have assigned one o’ yer servants? Yer guards? Nathair?”

Alexander looked even more uncomfortable somehow. “Er, nay, nae really, I…” He took a breath, and then Cicilia was astounded as his words came out in a rush. “Dinnae ask me to explain meself, Cicilia, because I’m nae sure that I’m capable. I’ve kent ye for a couple weeks maybe, but somethin’ has happened in that time that I dinnae…I’ve never…”

Cicilia held out a hand. “Alexander? Do ye want to come inside, perhaps?”