Page 10 of A Sinful Night with a Scot (Bound by a Highland Curse: The Morgan’s Clan Stories #8)

CHAPTER TEN

A nna was a young lass of about Elsie’s age, who, from the moment they left the laird’s side, was so warm and kind that Elsie took an immediate liking to her. She had a round and pretty face, framed with wisps of red hair that had escaped from her bonnet, and a sprinkling of freckles dotted across her nose and cheeks.

“Ye must forgive me surprise, me lady, but nayone kent the laird was away tae get… married.” Anna’s voice faded as her brow furrowed. “Ye must be exhausted, me lady. I’m sure ye would like a bath.”

“Aye, a bath would be lovely.”

“And some fresh clothes,” Anna continued.

At that, Elsie frowned. “I would love some fresh clothes, but alas, I have naething with me but the clothes I am wearing.”

Anna smiled again. “Dinnae worry about that. I’m sure I can find something suitable. Some of Lady Iseabail’s clothes are still here, and by the look o’ ye, I reckon yer close enough tae the right size.”

“Lady Iseabail?” Elsie said, as they continued along the corridor, passing heavy wooden doors on their left and right.

“Aye, me lady. The laird’s sister.”

“Oh,” Elsie sucked in a gasp.

“She left the castle last year after she was married to Owen Sinclair, the son o’ Laird Sinclair.”

“I see,” Elsie said.

The idea that the laird had any siblings had not even occurred to Elsie. It surprised her even further that he had a sister, though she did not know why. Perhaps it had to do with the way he had treated her.

Well, ye dinnae ken that he treats his sister any better.

But Elsie dismissed that thought as quickly as it arrived. She had seen the laird in action with his people. It was clear that she was the only one rewarded with his brutish behavior. He didn’t want her there. In fact, he didn’t want her at all.

That’s nae true, and ye ken it.

Fine. There had been some moments between them. But his hot and cold conduct was driving her mad. One minute, he was kind and caring, the next he was snarling at her. She wished he would just make up his damned mind.

They eventually slowed outside one of the many wooden doors they had passed, and, taking a key from a chain in her pocket, Anna unlocked the door.

“I’ll be right back with some hot water, me lady,” Anna declared, before closing the door again, and leaving Elsie alone.

Elsie slowly entered the laird’s bedchamber, her eyes taking in the large room. His four-poster bed and canopy were situated over on the left wall, and opposite, on the far side of the room, was a large fireplace with logs burning, the flames reaching upwards, as though trying to escape up the chimney, but never reaching far enough.

Directly ahead were two large windows draped in heavy cloth, separated by a thick stone wall that housed a dresser with drawers. A tin bath sat to one side of the fire, while a large throne-like chair was situated on the other.

Taking her time, Elsie slowly moved around the room, running her fingers over the intricate carvings of the furniture, eyeing the manly items that sat upon his dresser, and noting the distinct lack of any female influence at all. She then eyed the huge portrait above the fireplace. The man who looked back out of the canvas at her, though, was not the laird himself, as one might expect, but an older man. Yet, his features were familiar.

“Keane’s faither,” Elsie breathed.

She gazed at the portrait for a long time, catching the soft features that the artist had captured. She had never met this laird, and yet, just by looking at him, she could surmise that he had been a good and kind man.

“Unlike yer son,” she murmured.

But then, she caught herself. The very reason she was there was because this man had been struck down. Murdered by the man she had been promised to by her father. And the fact that the laird had a portrait of his father above his mantle and not himself spoke volumes. Laird Mackay had clearly loved his father very much.

Even so, his revenge is consuming him.

Indeed, it was.

Not long after that, Anna returned with two more maids, each carrying buckets of hot water. When the tin bath was full and the other maids had left, Anna helped Elsie undress. She then slipped into the hot bath, breathing out a long moan of delight.

Anna helped her bathe, and then, holding out a linen towel, the maid wrapped the covering around her.

“Stand in front o’ the fire tae keep warm, me lady,” Anna said. “I will away and gather yer clothes.”

Her skin tingled as the searing heat from the fire licked away the droplets of water that clung to her, like lichen to rock. Elsie opened the towel and let the heat bathe the whole of her, tilting her head back and letting her hair hang loose.

When the door opened again, Elsie was a little surprised that Anna was back in such a short time, and glancing over her shoulder, she let out a shriek.

“What are ye daeing in here?” she gasped, throwing the towel haphazardly around her, while, at the same time, feeling a searing heat travelling from her neck up into her face.

A tick at the side of the laird’s mouth told her he was struggling to hold back a smile as he closed the door behind him.

“This is me chamber,” Keane said nonchalantly.

“I am in a state o’ undress,” Elsie cried, seemingly frozen to the spot. “Ye didnae even knock.”

The laird took several steps toward her, but did not speak. Instead, his eyes moved from her face and slowly travelled down her body. So slow and intense was his gaze, Elsie could nearly feel it on her skin, a burning trail as he moved over her collar bone, down over her breasts, across her stomach, and then to her uncovered legs. Inch by agonizing inch.

Her stomach clenched, and heat formulated at the apex of her thighs, for his eyes practically smoldered as he continued. She could feel her blood pulsing through her neck, and the thud of her heart banging against her ribs.

He took another step forward, and Elsie suddenly began to panic.

“What are ye daeing?” The sound that left her throat was barely a whisper.

The laird then lifted his hand and took hold of the shawl draped at the back of the throne-like chair. Something she hadn’t even noticed before. Slowly, with his eyes on hers, he took another step forward. Elsie’s heart was now racing, for he was only a foot away. With wide eyes, she watched as he opened the embroidered cloth in his hands, and then, leaning forward, he wrapped it around her shoulders.

She grabbed at it like her life depended on it, wrapping it around her body tightly. It was huge, and clearly made for him, and thus, covered her whole from shoulder to foot.

For a moment, Keane did not speak. His eyes remained on hers as he gazed down at her. Elsie searched his face, desperate to know what might be behind his dark look, a look that clearly expressed his desire for her. But his face held steady, and he gave not one flicker of any emotion away.

Suddenly, he drew a breath, turned on his heels, and moved several feet away from her, before turning to look at her again.

“When ye are dressed, we must go together and search for a stone,” he said, his voice thick, though he was clearly trying to hide it.

Elsie’s brow furrowed, and she shook her head. “A stone?”

“Aye. ‘Tis a Highland tradition in these parts. We mark a stone for the hearth in the great hall. It symbolizes the welcome o’ new family members tae the clan. And, whether ye like it or nae, ye are a new member o’ this family, Elspeth.”

Elsie was just beginning to feel frustration at the use of her name when she noticed Keane look up and above her. She didn’t need to turn. She knew he was gazing at his father’s portrait. Her heart sank, then, for his brow dipped, and she watched a sadness wash over him, if only fleetingly.

His gaze came back to her, and his expression was, once more, like stone.

“The council are planning a great celebratory feast tonight fer both our return and our marriage,” he continued. “The stone involves the clan in our ceremony, which, ye will come tae learn, will delight them greatly, fer they are good people.”

Elsie nodded. “Aye. I have witnessed that already.” And she had. Not only with the people in the village beyond the castle, but with Anna too. She couldn’t dismiss Alisdair either, for it was evident he was not pleased with the path Keane had taken. “I think it is a good thing tae involve the clan.”

Her remark surprised him, for she witnessed his brow hitch on his forehead. He then regarded her for a moment before continuing. “We will leave within the hour, before it gets dark. Get Anna tae bring ye tae the stables when ye are ready.”

And then, he left as swiftly as he had arrived, leaving Elsie still staring at the door in his wake.

Half an hour later, Elsie and Anna found the laird standing in the stables beside two horses. Upon seeing their approach, Keane smiled at Anna, nodding gratefully to her.

“Thank ye, Anna. Ye can go now.”

“Aye, me laird.”

The maid then turned back the way she had come and left Elsie and Keane alone. The soft scent of sweet hay filled her nostrils as Keane handed her the reins of the mare. There were several stalls on either side of the large building, most of them occupied with a large beautiful beast of one size or another.

“Ye have many beautiful horses,” Elsie said, gazing around her.

“They work hard fer us,” he replied.

Elsie was a taken aback at his words. Perhaps, given how she had experienced him for most of the time, she did not think he had the capacity to care.

Ye ken that isnae true.

Indeed, he had shown her some moments, but they had been few and far between. Now, he seemed to be somewhere in the middle. Not appearing particularly tender or caring, yet nor was he as abrasive as he had been on their journey back to the castle.

In fact, as she regarded him, his face was so passive, she couldn’t imagine what he might be thinking or feeling. It wasn’t as though he were an easy man to read any other time, but given they were about to venture out together, she could not tell if he might be pleased or annoyed at the prospect.

“Dae ye feel better now that ye are bathed and dressed?”

Elsie flashed him a glance, trying to decipher if he was, once more, trying to humiliate her, but his expression now appeared open and amicable.

“I dae. Aye,” she replied, careful to keep sarcasm from her tone.

“Good.” He paused for a second and then took hold of the reins of the other, much larger horse. “Come.”

They led the horses out of the stables and a little way across the courtyard. Keane then stopped and looked over at her. “We should go.” Lifting his eyes to the sky, he added, “I dinnae want tae be out here when night falls.”

“Are ye scared o’ the dark?” Elsie quipped.

The laird smirked at her as he took hold of her waist and lifted her onto her mare. Looking up at her, he said, “There are far more things that should scare ye than the dark. Like me, fer example.”

He gave her a brooding look, and again, Elsie felt her stomach clench and her pulse jump. How did such a threat make her body react like that? It was as though the thought of him being dangerous reached the center of her soul and excited her.

He mounted his horse and led the way to the castle gates. They yawned open before them, and Elsie followed him through, coming to ride by his side once they were on the track beyond.

“Where are we going fer this stone?” Elsie asked.

The laird looked over at her. “Traditionally, the stone is chosen from the land surrounding the family’s home or near a significant natural landmark, like a loch or a glen. ‘Tis believed that selecting a stone from nearby connects the new family member, ye,” he nodded toward her, “tae the land itself.”

They left the track and continued across the green pastures of the glen, tall rush grass swaying among tussock and heather as the horse’s hooves sunk into the sod beneath them.

“And we are going tae such a place?” Elsie said, noting that the man accompanying her had not actually answered her question.

“The waterfall,” Keane said.

“A waterfall,” Elsie repeated.

“It’s nae just any waterfall, Elspeth,” he replied solemnly. “It’s a sacred waterfall with legends o’ fidelity and oaths.”

“People go there tae make their oaths sacred?”

“Any oath should be sacred,” he replied, giving her a cautionary look. “But aye, making such an oath in the waterfall is said tae bind that oath forever.”

They had now travelled through a group of trees, and Elsie could hear the pounding thump of water nearby.

Elsie looked at the laird. “We’re close.”

Keane nodded. “Aye, we are.”

Several minutes later, secretly hidden and surrounded by trees and bushes, they came across a beautiful scene. The craggy rock face, covered in lichen, moss, and small plants that grew from the cracks, towered high above them. A stream of water as wide as four doors tumbled down into the pool beneath at such great speed that the sound was nearly deafening. Huge droplets splashed up, sending ripples across the pooling water beneath it, before it seemed to run away down a stream that led somewhere off into the trees.

Elsie’s eyes were as wide as her mouth as she gawked up at it. She had seen many beautiful areas as she had travelled over land and loch, and yet, something about this place enchanted her.

“Ye like it?” the laird said.

She heard the smile in his voice, and when she brought her gaze to him, his face was unusually soft and open as he regarded her.

“I think it is probably the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” she breathed.

Keane held her gaze for a long moment, his eyes holding that same intensity she had witnessed before, and yet there was a tenderness to his look, as though he could see through her very soul. Then he shifted, and jumped from his horse.

“Come,” he said, lifting her from her mare.

He led her up and behind the waterfall, holding tight onto her hand, for the stones were covered with wet moss and slippery underfoot. Elsie’s fear grew the higher they went, and with the pounding water right beside her, her own heart matched it as it thumped in her chest.

Och, God, I’m going tae fall.

“Ye willnae fall, Elspeth. I willnae let ye,” Keane said, his voice full of confidence.

She would have looked up at him, but she was too busy watching where she put her feet. Besides, clearly, he could feel her fear, or he wouldn’t have said such a thing.

She felt relief and delight wash over her when she finally did lift her eyes, for once the climb was over, they came upon a deep cave. Turning to look behind her, she watched the waterfall tumbling past the entrance, like a moving sheet of glass, distorting the colors of the trees and everything else beyond it.

“Oh, my,” she breathed, her voice echoing back to her as she took tentative steps ahead.

Gazing up and around, she took in the strange rock formations, some jagged and harsh, contrasting with others that were as smooth as silk.

“This place is magical,” she said, turning to Keane.

He had not moved from where she had left him, but instead of looking around the cave, his eyes were on her. Gazing at her almost in wonder, while a slow smile crept to the corner of his mouth.

She felt a heat burn her cheeks at his gaze. “Ye think me a fool,” she said, feeling the heat of embarrassment rising up her neck.

But the laird frowned then, and shook his head. “Nae at all,” he said, walking towards her. “I actually find yer delight enchanting.”

Elsie now blushed for a different reason, for once more, his gaze pinned her to the spot with its intensity.

Pulling her eyes from his and looking around her again, she repeated his earlier words. “This is a sacred waterfall of vows and fidelity?”

“It is,” he said, making his way toward her, and coming to a stop no less than a foot away. Lifting his eyes up and around him, he continued, his voice a low rumble. “Can ye nae feel the magic here?”

“I can,” Elsie breathed.

For a long moment, the two stood there, soaking in the strange magical aura of their surroundings. She could feel her skin tingling, as though the spirits and the gods danced about her unseen. The cave truly was enchanting, and Elsie sensed why people travelled to it to make their vows.

“I would like tae propose something between us,” she said quietly, as though her words might disturb the magic swirling around them

Keane turned and looked at her, his eyebrow hitched.

When he did not speak, and was clearly waiting for her, Elsie continued. “A vow of peace,” she said. “I ken ye dinnae really want me here.” The laird opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it again. “But if we are tae be man and wife, things need tae be easier between us. I cannae cope with yer inconsistency, fer I never ken what ye’re going tae dae next, and I fear it might eventually drive me mad.”

He looked down at her for a long moment, his eyes searching her face, his expression, as usual, giving nothing away. The moment lingered, and still Keane did not speak. So much so, that Elsie imagined he would deny her suggestion.

And then, he nodded. “Very well, Elspeth. A truce. I vow tae treat ye better.”

“And I vow tae act in the same manner,” she added.

“And so, it is done,” he said. “On that premise, it may be an advantage if I kent the reason ye dinnae like yer name.”

Elsie sighed. She had refused to tell him on his last request out of stubborn pride. And yet, it was she, who wanted the truce. Besides, there was something about this place that made her want things to be better between them. It was the strangest sensation. One that she simply could not put into words.

“Me faither is the only one who calls me Elspeth,” she said, her voice low as she dropped her gaze. “He is a cruel man who wanted a son fer an heir, but only got me. Nor has he ever let me forget it. I have grown up with his tirades o’ what a waste I am, and how useless I am, and that I am good fer nothing. Like ye, he hates me.”

She jumped when she felt the laird’s finger under her chin. With a little pressure, he lifted her face so she was forced to look at him. Elsie was surprised to see his eyes smoldering with anger.

“Yer faither is a fool and a tyrant,” he growled. “In fact, he doesnae deserve tae be a faither at all. What man would treat his own child in such a way? His own daughter?” And then his eyes softened as he gazed at her. “And I dinnae hate ye, Elsp… Elsie,” he corrected. “How could I? Look at ye.”

Her heart thumped as she felt his breath on her cheek, his face so close to hers, his defined lips just a whisper away. Her breath caught in her throat as the sparks crackled between them, the promise of his mouth reaching hers in a soft embrace. And more than that, her surprise to discover that she actually ached for it.

Oh, God, he’s going tae kiss me.

And then, in that second, something flickered in his eyes. So lost in the moment was she that Elsie could not define the emotion. But slowly, Keane slid his finger from her chin, and then stepped away.

“Perhaps we ought tae find this stone before dark falls,” he said, his voice as thick as treacle.