Page 22 of My Scarred Laird

For Callum to wield that sword as if it was merely a regular one made her eyes go wide.

Roberta nodded, “Tomorrow. Ye shall see.”

Islay swallowed hard, “I will talk ta him after he is finished training. I swear.”

Roberta pursed her lips, “Good. He doesna need ya ta lie ta him.”

Islay walked away, knowing Roberta was right.

She needed to come clean. To tell Callum who she was and let the what was going to happen, happen.

* * *

That night,she had a hard time sleeping.

She tossed and turned for a while, thinking of all she learned about Callum, and she knew that even though she had barely spoken to him that he had her heart.

She knew what a good man he was, how hard he worked on himself, and to protect and serve his clan.

She could see how happy they were. Saw how the people prospered and she knew it was all because he was a good Laird.

Getting up, she swung her legs out of bed, needing a distraction.

A book. Something. Anything to keep her mind occupied.

She walked over to her door after getting a thick plaid and wrapped it around her shoulders.

She peeked out into the hallway, walking toward the small library that Callum had for his personal use.

Islay was sick and tired of Callum hiding from her.

She didn’t know his reasons for staying away from her, but she hated that she scared him away before she even got to know him better.

She didn’t care about his scars. Or how he walked with a limp, and that one of his hands didn’t fully extend a lot of the times.

Or that his smile was slightly lopsided. It didn’t matter.

She loved him. All of him. It was insane to have that thought, but it was true.

She did love him and wanted to be his wife.

She had seen the way he treated each of the members of the clan as if they were the most important person there.

That he was just and fair and everyone respected him.

She wanted to be with the man she loved and that was the end. She had seen enough of his character to know that she truly, deeply loved him. For whom he was. Not for what he looked like. Though, to her, he was a handsome, virile man who made her long to know if lovemaking was all people made it out to be.

She pulled the plaid tighter around her, trying to hide the fact that she was only in her chemise as she went to look for a book.

She had slipped on a pair of her slippers, because the floors were freezing cold, and as she made her way up the stairs, she started to feel nervous, but she pushed the thought down.

She wouldn’t give him up, not now, not ever.

She had thought to just sneak to Callum’s rooms, take off all of her clothes and see if he avoided her then. But she knew the thought was insane. She couldn't do that. Could she? No.

She knew her way to his chambers like the back of her hand and had grabbed a few books for him from the library before heading to his chambers.

When she made it to his room she was about to knock, when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise in alarm.