Page 20 of Healing the Highland Sinner (Tales of the Maxwell Lasses #7)

CHAPTER 20

“ C ome on,” Rosalind called. “Hurry up.”

A peal of thunder crashed overhead. Ellair picked his away along the narrow, stony trail. The rain fell in sheets, soaking her to the bone and the frigid gusts of wind were cutting. She was shivering so hard, Rosalind half-feared she was going to shake herself off the trail, falling over the cliff, to the rocky shore below.

“Where are we bleedin’ goin’?” he asked, breathing hard.

“Tae a place we can hide,” she called back. “Unless ye’d like tae face all Ewan’s men on yer own?”

“Might be easier than the climb tae this place.”

“Suit yerself,” she said. “I can always hire another sword.”

Rosalind turned and headed further up the rocky path, fully expecting Ellair to fall into step behind her. He did. Not that she was really going to leave him behind, but it made it easier if he thought she might. Ellair huffed and puffed as he made his way up the grueling trail that led to one of her secret lairs. Rosalind had many and only she and Ciar knew the exact location of her network. She hadn’t had to use them before, but she liked knowing she had a place to bolt to if everything went sideways. And it had.

After they had overseen the departure of a shipment, they were heading back to the compound when she and Ellair had been set upon by Ewan’s men. The fight had been fierce as Ewan seemed determined to see her dispatched. Ellair had fought off four of them on his own before creating an opening for them to slip through. Once they were moving, Rosalind had led him out of the town and onto the secret paths that led into the bluffs that overlooked Thurso.

Thunder crashed overhead with unrelenting ferocity and the sky flashed as wicked bolts of lightning streaked from the clouds. It had been quite some time since Rosalind had seen a storm so fierce and although she wasn’t the superstitious sort, she couldn’t help but fear it carried some ill portent for them. However, they made it to her secret cave without incident and she let out a quiet breath. She pushed the thick, stone-colored cloth that covered the mouth, camouflaging it from below, aside and stepped in. Ellair followed her in and as he walked around, taking it in, she replaced the cloth.

“What is this place?” he asked.

“’Tis me secret warehouse,” she replied. “One of them anyway.”

“I though ye stored yer goods in the warehouse in town.”

“I dae. But this is where I store the most valuable goods I need tae keep from pryin’ eyes.”

“How dae ye get it all up here?” he asked. “The hike up is brutal.”

“A good smuggler never reveals all her secrets.”

He laughed as Rosalind retrieved a pair of oil lanterns. She checked to make sure they were filled before igniting the wicks and bathing the interior of the cave in a dim, golden light. The cave was filled with boxes and wooden crates that were filled with goods she had received and was keeping safe until they were to be shipped. It was just one of the caves in the bluff face she’d claimed as her private store houses. Given the trek up to the top was as grueling as it was, nobody ever went up there, which made it ideal for her.

With the lanterns lit, giving them enough illumination to see, Rosalind set about getting a fire going. She was chilled to the bone and needed warmth. Outside, the wind whistled and howled and the cascade of rain and thunder continued unabated. She stacked on a little more tinder and splashed some oil from the can onto the logs then struck her flint and with a whoosh, the fire sprang to life. She sat down in front of the flames, holding her hands out, and tried to soak up the warmth. She was shivering so hard, Rosalind felt like she was rattling her very bones.

“’Tis freezin’ in here,” she said.

Ellair was still inspecting the stacks of crates. “That fire will warm things up soon enough.”

He was as curious as a child and if not for how bitterly cold she was, Rosalind might have been amused. Instead, she hugged herself closely and leaned closer to the flames. No matter how close she got though, she did not think she would ever warm up. He finally walked over to the fire and stood over her for a moment.

“Sit down,” she said. “Get warm.”

He surprised her when he sat down and pulled her under his cloak with him. Rosalind immediately stiffened but before she could move, he slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him then pulled his cloak tighter around them. She sat beside him, rigid and tense. But it wasn’t long before she realized for the first time since they’d fled from the town, she wasn’t shivering. She was, in fact, starting to grow warmer.

“How is yer cloak so much warmer—and drier—than mine?” she asked.

“’Tis treated with somethin’ that repels the water and keeps the inside warm.”

“Fancy.”

“I pay well fer quality work,” he grinned.

She leaned against him, telling herself it was simply for the warmth their bodies were generating. But the truth was, she enjoyed feeling his toned and taut body so close to hers.

They sat together in silence, the crackle of the fire and the storm that raged outside echoing around the stone walls of the cave the only sound between them. Rosalind felt a weight descend over them. It felt like expectation, desire. When she looked at Ellair, she could see the desire she felt reflected in his eyes. She licked her lips and tried to swallow down the lump that had risen in her throat.

She cleared it and sat up, careful to remain under his cloak, but trying to put a bit of distance between them. Perhaps if she wasn’t touching him, she might not have such inappropriate thoughts.

He was staring into the flames, seeming to be somewhere else entirely. The flames glittered in his eyes and cast a flickering golden light upon his face that somehow made him even more handsome. She ground her teeth together and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, trying to focus her mind on anything but his rugged good looks.

“What are ye thinkin’ about?” she asked, hoping a mundane conversation with him would free her mind of these thoughts.

“I was just… I was thinkin’ about me braither.”

“Tell me about him.”

A wan smile touched his lips. It quickly faded though and one of sorrow replaced it. She could see the burden he carried was great and was pressing down on him. But then something on his face changed and when he looked at her, she saw his grief, his anger. But also saw the walls he had built around himself begin to crumble.

“What is it?” she asked, wanting to know more about him. “What happened with yer braither that’s hurtin’ ye so, even all these years later?”

“’Twas a long time ago, but all we had was each other. We found ourselves in the middle of a battle… just tryin’ tae survive,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I was wounded. Badly. I thought I was goin’ tae die. Part of me wishes I had…”

His voice trailed off and he turned back to the flames as the memories battered him. It wasn’t hard for Rosalind to see that he still carried more guilt for what happened than a person should. By his account, his brother was still alive, married, and living a good life. She didn’t understand what had happened that would still cause Ellair so much pain. But seeing it on his face made her heart hurt for him.

“I’m glad ye didnae,” she said. “And I’m sure yer braither is as well.”

“I suppose.”

“What happened, Ellair?”

He sighed heavily and picked up a small stone, studying it as he held it between his thumb and forefinger closely before tossing it into the flames.

“Cormac—me braither—he pledged himself tae an evil man. Pledged tae dae his evil work fer a promise tae have me healed,” he said, his voice low but hard. “And he did. Once me wounds were healed, Cormac had tae dae some very cruel, evil things tae pay off his debt.”

His words tapered off again and she saw the shadow that crossed his face. She could see just how haunted Ellair was by what had happened. But he clenched his jaw and she saw determination etched into his features.

“Eventually, it became clear tae us that this man… never had any intention of releasin’ Cormac from his bond. He’d told me braither that he would, but he kept playin’ him along,” he said. “Me braither grew tired of daein’ the man’s dark deeds. He wanted out but kent the man was never goin’ tae release him.”

“What did he dae?”

“The only thing he could,” Ellair said. “He killed him. He bought me life and our freedom, but it came at a terrible cost.”

“I dinnae ken yer braither, and I dinnae ken ye much better, but ye both strike me as good, noble men who are willin’ tae dae what is necessary fer those they love,” she said, her voice growing thick as she saw the parallels in their situations. “Sometimes, we have tae dae some evil tae dae a greater good. In yer braither’s case, ‘twas tae save yer life. There’s nay stain on his soul fer that. Just as there should be nay stain on yers fer the decision yer braither made. He did it out of love. ‘Tis nothin’ fer ye tae feel guilty about.”

“And yet, I still dae.”

She nodded, a sad smile touching her lips. She understood his situation all too well.

“I can see by the look on yer face that ye’ve carryin’ a burden of yer own,” he said. “And the way ye talk, it sounds like ye can relate tae Cormac’s decision.”

She hesitated but nodded. “Aye. I can relate tae it very well.”

“I unburdened meself,” he said. “Why dinnae ye tell me what’s keepin’ ye up at night?”

Rosalind gnawed on her bottom lip, assaulted by her memories and the grief and anger that inevitably came with them.

“Ye once asked me why I work for Sinclair,” she said.

He nodded. “Aye. I did.”

She closed her eyes and let out a soft breath. Other than Ciar, nobody knew why she’d started working for Sinclair. Not the true reason. And just the thought of it sent a tremor of pain through her heart and she felt her eyes sting as they welled with tears. She used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe her eyes and nose as she drew in a long, shuddering breath.

“Everythin’ I told ye about how I got intae this life was true. What I didnae tell ye was that I brought me braither Blaine intae it with me,” she said. “And things were fine at first. But we ran intae some trouble. A lot of trouble…”

She sniffed loudly, her voice trailing off as she relived that terrible day in her mind. It was Ellair’s turn to squeeze her hand gently, offering her a small smile of understanding and encouragement. She swallowed hard and sat up straight, steeling her nerves.

“Sinclair took me braither, Blaine,” she said softly. “Took him captive, he did.”

It was the first time she’d admitted that to anybody out loud. The first time she’d trusted anybody enough, aside from Ciar, to help her shoulder that burden.

“And now, Sinclair is usin’ him tae make me dae his biddin’. Tells me he’ll kill Blaine if I dinnae dae as he says,” she told him.

“And he’s promisin’ that one day, when ye’ve done enough fer him, that he’ll let yer braither come back tae ye, eh?”

She nodded. “Aye.”

Even as she said the word, she realized it wasn’t true. Perhaps deep down, she’d always known. That nothing she did would ever be enough for him. She turned to Ellair, feeling more lost than she’d ever felt before in her life.

“’Tis nae yer fault, Rosalind.”

“It is though.”

“Yer braither made a decision tae follow ye,” he said. “Just as Cormac made a decision.”

A wry grin twisted her lips. “It daesnae make it feel any better though, eh?”

“Nay. It daesnae. But it’s just as true for Cormac as it is fer yer braither.”

She fell silent but nodded as the fire flickered across his face and in his eyes. The moment between them felt charged, like the air just before a spring storm. Her lips parted and she felt herself being pulled to him as if by some unseen gravity. And when their lips touched, Rosalind felt a stitch in her heart. Her breath caught in her throat and her entire body exploded in sensations.

She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to her, their kiss deepening. She gasped as Ellair ran his fingers through her hair, his tongue swirling around hers passionately. Rosalind felt herself falling into his kiss and into him. She wanted to surrender to him. To give herself over to the passion and desire coursing through her.

“Nay,” she gasped and quickly pulled back. “Nay. I’m sorry, we cannae dae this.”

“’Tis all right,” he said. “But one day, ye’re goin’ tae have tae decide where ye stand. Dae ye trust me, or dinnae ye?”

“’Tis naethin’ tae dae with trust.”

“Isnae it?”

She fell silent and turned to stare into the flames. On some level, she realized he was right. It was about trust. And although part of her wanted to trust him enough to let him in, the other part of her was terrified to even contemplate the idea.