Page 7 of Tempted by a Highland Beast (Tales of Love and Lust in the Murray Castle #9)
CHAPTER FOUR
T ime was a cruel mistress, and it flowed like treacle around Rowena.
Or at least, that was what it felt like to Constantine. They had ridden her horse for what felt like hours, on a slow pace so the horse wouldn’t get tired. Now, the sun had disappeared behind a sheet of clouds, and dusk was settling around them.
The landscape had changed away from the stretch of trees and shrubs, and they were trekking through a small village. The soft, yellow glow of the fire shone through the doors and windows. Men and women walked around the land, all looking like they had some purpose.
Constantine, giving the mare a break whilst passing through people, decided to go on foot. He led Rowena and the horse at a relaxed pace, making way for them to continue whilst greeting and nodding at people who were walking by.
The sound of laughing children was like a balm against Rowena’s exhaustion.
Two of them ran towards her and Constantine with speed that could rival a hare, and they almost barreled into them, but they halted a few paces from him, held back by the unmistakable authority in his stance.
Both stared up at him wide-eyed, their energy momentarily stilled by something that looked a lot like awe.
“Ye’re back!” The boy jumped up and down.
“Have ye been keeping out of mischief, lad?”
“I have! I promised ye I’d be good, did I nae?”
Constantine turned to the girl. “Daes he speak the truth, Ainsley?”
She shook her head. “I’m afraid nae, Sir. He chased the goat intae the forest, and Faither had tae go after it. Maither was furious.”
“Ainsley, must ye always betray me?”
“I am only speaking the truth, unlike some folk,” said Ainsley.
“I’ll take yer ugly doll away. We’ll see how ye like that.”
Ainsley huffed, turning to Constantine. “Dae ye see what James puts me through?”
Rowena stood silent, watching the exchange unfold with unexpected fascination.
Constantine corrected them both—stern with James, but not unkind—and when the quarrel was over, James mumbled a promise to be a better brother.
Ainsley forgave him without fuss. Constantine sent them off with a light tap on their shoulders, and they scampered away, still bickering under their breath.
This… tenderness, however unsentimental, hadn’t been something she had expected from him. Rowena wasn’t sure what surprised her more: the ease with which he had handled them, or how little he had seemed to notice he was doing it.
As Constantine led them through a new, rocky path, a dangerous swagger set at his shoulders that caught Rowena’s notice, too.
Her face heated and it was foolish, really, the way her thoughts wandered.
She had never been so near a man for so long, watching the way he moved, hearing the low cadence of his voice when he spoke to the horse.
And though they weren’t touching, the space between them felt narrow enough to burn.
She didn’t mind it. In fact, she could too easily imagine minding the absence of it.
The thought truly shamed her. To Constantine, she was likely nothing more than a troublesome lass in need of rescue.
But to Rowena, he was the first man to stir something low and unfamiliar in her belly.
She’d never given much thought to what sort of man she might one day wed. Now, she was well aware she wanted one who carried strength like an armor, who wielded power the way Constantine had wielded that sword: with precision and pride.
She had taken him for a brute at first, a man who let his blade speak before his tongue.
I could be wrong…
The village disappeared behind them, and as they crested the next hill, the castle rose before them like a stone giant awakening from slumber, its grey walls catching the last amber light of dusk.
Massive towers stretched toward the darkening sky, their crenellated tops crowned with fluttering banners that snapped in the evening wind.
Guards paced the battlements in measured steps, their silhouettes dark against the stone. Even from this distance, Rowena could see the glint of steel at their sides, the purposeful way they moved along their patrol routes.
Torches had begun to flicker to life along the walls, and the main gates stood open, revealing a courtyard bustling with activity despite the approaching night.
Servants hurried across the cobblestones, their arms laden with bundles and baskets.
The rhythmic clang of a blacksmith’s hammer rang out from somewhere within the walls, accompanied by the low murmur of voices and the occasional bark of orders.
Horses nickered from what must have been the stables, and the savory aroma of cooking meat drifted on the breeze, making Rowena’s stomach tighten with hunger.
A group of men-at-arms stood near the entrance, their leather jerkins marked with the same heraldic symbol that adorned the banners above.
They straightened as Constantine approached, their hands moving instinctively to their sword hilts before recognition dawned on their faces.
The moment felt bittersweet to Rowena, and she suddenly felt homesick, wondering how her people were faring with Alpin.
“Welcome back, Sir,” one called out in greeting that carried the warmth of familiarity, and Constantine raised his hand in acknowledgment.
The significance of Constantine’s position settled over her like a heavy cloak as she realized the magnitude of the world she was entering. Rowena briefly wondered if she had signed up for more than she had bargained for.
“Why is everyone calling ye sir?” she asked quietly, studying his face.
“I am tae become their laird soon,” Constantine replied simply. “Daes that change things fer ye?”
Rowena’s mind raced. What had she done, asking favors of a man with such power? Taking sanctuary with him? If word reached her own clan that she’d been found in the company of the MacLean heir—alone, unaccompanied—what would they think?
What would me uncle make of the situation fer his gain?
The implications tangled in her thoughts like brambles. Constantine’s people might not be sworn enemies of the MacKenzies, but they weren’t allies either. And now that she was there, they had the power to make her vanish into the folds of their keep and reappear only as leverage.
“It changes everything,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Ye have power I didnae fully grasp. And I…” She gestured helplessly. “I’m nay longer just a woman seeking shelter. I’m a woman under the protection of the MacLean heir. That will be seen differently by many.”
Constantine’s expression grew serious. “Are ye concerned about yer clan’s reaction?”
“Among other things, aye.”
The magnitude of the unknown she was entering settled over her like a heavy cloak, and Rowena couldn’t afford for Constantine to notice just how unsettled she truly was.
She pushed her doubts aside and managed a small smile, looking around where she was. “Yer home is… more than I expected.”
Constantine cast her a glance over his shoulder, his expression calm but hard to read. “Aye. It tends tae leave a lasting impression.”
As they approached the main gates, three figures emerged from the shadows of the archway.
The first was a young woman with dark eyes and long black hair that caught the torchlight like silk.
Despite her petite frame, she managed to carry the weight of her clothes well.
Her frock was the color of blood, and it looked even darker in the dark lights of dusk.
A dainty necklace of pearls hugged her neck, and pearl earrings framed her beautiful face.
Behind her stood two men, both watching Constantine’s approach with careful attention.
“Constantine!” The young woman hurried forward, her skirts swishing against the cobblestones. “We were beginning tae worry.”
Constantine’s expression remained guarded. “There was nay need tae wait up, Lilias.”
“Ye… ye are right. But ye went traipsing half a day’s ride tae the loch and we hadnae heard from ye since dawn.”
Constantine let out a laugh that sounded forced. “I can handle meself, Lilias.”
Lilias’ eyes settled on Rowena with open curiosity. “And who might this be?”
Rowena startled as the woman turned to her. She dropped her hands and hoped she didn’t look as nervous as she felt. Being surrounded by people she didn’t know made her uncomfortable, to say the least.
Nay matter their kindness, I cannae afford tae lower me guard.
The broader of the two men stepped forward. His weathered face was serious beneath the short, dark hair. A crooked nose spoke of past battles, and his plain clothes did nothing to diminish the authority with which he carried himself. “Constantine, ye’re here,” he said simply, his voice gravelly.
“Theo,” Constantine acknowledged with a nod before turning to the third figure, a lean man with sun-browned skin and clever eyes that seemed to take in everything at once. “Finlay.”
Finlay’s gaze flicked to Rowena briefly before returning to Constantine, a question in his eyes. Rowena found herself offering a small smile to him, and he returned it with one of his. He was a lean, wiry thing, but he managed to fill up his shirt with muscles she knew he’d gotten from hard work.
He turned those eyes to her again. “What is yer name, miss, if I may ask?”
“This is Rowena. She is me guest, she will be staying with us fer a while.” He offered no further explanation, and Rowena noted how neither man pressed for one. Their loyalty was evident in their silence.
Lilias, however, had no such restraint. She stepped forward with a bright smile that made her seem even younger than her years.
“Welcome tae Duart Castle, Rowena. I’m Lilias MacLean, Constantine’s younger half-sister.
” Her curtsy was perfectly executed, though her eyes never left Rowena’s face with frank curiosity.