Page 11 of The Cruel Highlander’s Healer (Highlanders’ Feisty Brides #1)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“I t is too damned hot in this damned castle,” Conall grunted, throwing back his covers.

A breeze outside his window rifled through the trees, but it didn’t come through. Closing his eyes, he imagined it flicking over his skin, cooling his sweat-kissed body.

But no matter how much he tried to think cooling thoughts, he could not get his mind or his body to settle. In a huff, he tossed his legs over the side of the bed.

There is one place in this God forsaken castle where I may be able to find some respite.

Shrugging on a nightshirt, Conall stalked out of his room. The corridor beyond it had gone dark, the lanterns long since blown out. But he’d lived in that castle his entire life. He did not need to see to know his way around.

He’d always loved the castle growing up. And, especially after his father’s death, had found himself roaming the corridors long after the sun had set.

Tonight was no different. Despite his still overheated body, Conall found himself beginning to relax. By the time he reached the library, he was already less agitated than he’d been when he’d stormed out of his chambers.

The door to the library opened with a low, familiar creak. Stepping inside, his eyes immediately landed in the far corner.

He’d expected the massive room to be dark as it had been in the rest of the castle. But a soft, flickering light emanated from the far-right corner, closest to the massive window that overlooked the grounds.

Fueled by curiosity, Conall surged forward. He wound through the shelves, the light becoming brighter with each step that he took.

Finally, he moved out of the shadow of the shelves. There was a small seating area in that corner. Three high backed reading chairs, each with their own ottomans sat together. A low table in between them housed a beautifully carved wooden chess board that his grandfather had crafted with his own hands.

On nights like tonight, nights when Conall couldn’t sleep, this corner of the library was his haven. It was the only place besides his study where he could almost always guarantee that he could spend some time alone with his thoughts.

And, the windows next to the chairs opened up, allowing the air to flow freely and cool everything around them.

Tonight, however, it appeared that alone time was not something he’d be getting.

Eliza sat in the middle reading chair. Her head was bent, eyes moving rapidly as she devoured the book in her lap. There were lanterns on either side of her, causing her skin to glow in their gently flickering light.

She either hadn’t heard the door to the library creak open, or she was so lost in her book that she didn’t care. Because she seemed entirely oblivious to his presence.

I could go back to me room, and she’d never know anythin’ different. She’d never ken I was here.

But Conall knew he would not be returning to his rooms.

Clearing his throat, Conall stepped into the pool of light created by the lanterns. A small squeak of surprise filled the air, and Eliza’s eyes shot up to him.

“Ye frightened the life out of me,” she blurted, hand fluttering up to her chest. “What are ye doin’ here?”

The corner of Conall’s mouth ticked up in amusement.

“I could ask ye the same thing.”

He strode forward, crossing the space between them in a few confident steps before plopping down into one of the chairs next to her. Eliza’s eyes widened further, but she said nothing as she studied him.

The weight of her gaze settled over Conall, and he allowed the silence to settle over them for a few moments more.

He hadn’t seen her that entire day. Hadn’t set eyes on her since the night before when he’d pressed his lips to hers in the study. But he’d thought of her endlessly.

Once he’d settled, Conall leaned toward her, plucking the book the book she’d been reading from her lap. Conall’s eyebrows shot up.

“Robinson Crusoe?” he asked, intrigue coloring his words.

A flush rose into Eliza’s cheeks. “I saw it on yer shelves and took interest.”

Her tone seemed almost defensive, and Conall cocked his head to the side, studying her.

“I dinnae say readin’ it is a bad thing,” he mused. “Ye just daenae strike me as a lass that craves adventure.”

Eliza snorted. “Aye, because ye ken me so well. Ye’ve really taken the time to ask all sorts of questions about what I crave.”

Something inside Conall stirred at her sarcasm. She was right, of course. Conall hadn’t taken the time to get to know her. As he’d reminded himself over the course of the last day, Eliza was there to do a job. She was there to save his people. He didn’t need to get to know her.

But now, he couldn’t help but want to rise to the challenge. Eyes flicking to the chess board.

“What would ye say to a wager?” Conall asked.

Eliza’s eyes narrowed, clearly not trusting him.

“What type of wager?”

Conall nodded his head toward the game board, and as Eliza’s gaze landed on it, he did not miss the way interest flashed across her fine features.

“We play a game,” he explained. “For every piece I claim, I get to ask ye a question. And ye get to do the same.”

Eliza’s posture straightened. She was quiet for a moment, no doubt turning his words over to see if there was some secret twist hidden in his words, some kind of trick.

Conall didn’t speak. He didn’t tell her that there wasn’t a trick or twist to be had. He had no interest in it. Despite his best judgement, the only thing that was on his mind in that moment was to get to know her.

We’ll work better together if we ken each other a bit, will we not?

“Alright,” Eliza said finally, the one word breaking through his thoughts. “I’ll take yer wager.”

A satisfied smirk spread across Conall’s face as he stood. He dragged the chair he’d been sitting in across the stone floor, the wooden legs scraping against it and the noise filling the space. Only stopping when it was directly across from Eliza.

Plopping back down, he stared at the board. The black chess pieces were lined up in front of him. Eliza was sitting before the white. She would go first.

Her soft brown eyes flickered over the board, slender hands hovering over varying pieces as she contemplated her first move. Finally, she selected the pawn on her far-right side, moving it forward.

Immediately, Conall acted, selecting his far-left pawn and advancing it toward hers. Around and around, they went. Until, three moves later, one of Conall’s pieces took hers.

Eliza’s mouth pressed into a thin line.

“What question will ye be askin’?” she muttered, clearly angry that he’d made the first significant move.

“How did ye come to live with the Witch of the Wood?”

Eliza’s cheeks flared with color. “Me parents were murdered.”

The words were stunted as she spoke them, as if each one took an extra amount of effort above what was normal. He could sympathize with that. Conall often felt the same when people asked about his father.

Maybe I’ll choose a different line of questionin’ next time.

They began playing again. In two moves, she’d claimed one of his pawns.

“Why did ye kidnap me?” she blurted, not even waiting for his piece to fully be moved off the board.

“Startin’ me off with an easy one?” he grunted, moving his pawn to the box on the side of the table. “I figured ye already ken the answer to this one. Nay one else would help me. Ye were me last hope and I thought ye would say nay. It is that simple.”

“Kidnappin’ is simple to ye?” She arched a brow.

Conall smirked. “Ye’ll have to claim another piece for me to answer that one.”

Eliza rolled her eyes but didn’t object, and they turned their attention back to the board. It turned out, she wouldn’t be able to ask her question next. Not when Conall was the next one to claim a piece.

He didn’t immediately ask his question. Instead, he opted to take a moment to contemplate what he wanted to know.

There were a thousand things that came rushing to him. But almost all of them had to do with Eliza’s past. And, while he felt that was important, he also hadn’t missed the way she’d bristled when talking about her parents.

I’ll have to tread lightly. Otherwise, she can always just leave if she doesnae want to answer somethin’.

“What do ye enjoy about bein’ a healer?”

The question was a simple one. But it seemed to take her aback nonetheless.

“How many things would ye like me to provide?” she asked.

“How ever many ye’d like to,” Conall answered with the shrug of a shoulder.

“It’s a long list.”

She stared at Conall, seeming to think that this information would make him take back his question. He didn’t care, though.

He’d seen the way she’d behaved with the bairns when she’d first arrived at the castle. And he’d seen the way she’d fiercely advocated for herself against Auld’s. It was clear she was passionate about her work.

And now, Conall wanted to know why.

He waited patiently, something that he wasn’t able to do often. Finally, Eliza seemed to realize that he wasn’t going to be providing anything else to the conversation, and she sighed.

“I like helpin’ people,” she answered honestly. “That’s the short answer of it.”

“And the long?” Conall prompted.

Technically, she had answered his question. She didn’t have to go into more detail to satisfy what they’d agreed to before entering the game. But Conall wanted to see if he could get her to open up a bit more. He was willing to push just a little if he thought it would pay off.

A wistful look washed over Eliza’s face as she began speaking. Her brown eyes, which had been fraught with tension a moment before, began to soften. The corners of her mouth pulled into a soft smile.

“There’s nothin’ like it,” she explained. “The feelin’ ye get when ye’re able to save someone. Or, when they’re so sick they’re prayin’ to God to make them better, and ye’re the one He sends to do so. Givin’ people back their health? I cannae think of nothin’ better.”

By the time she finished speaking, her expression was more open than she’d seen from her so far.

“It’s a noble thing,” Conall mused. “Bein’ able to care for other people.”

Eliza nodded, but she didn’t elaborate any further as she turned her attention back to the game. She didn’t lose that softness, though. And, when she was the one to claim the next piece, she looked at him with a grin.

“Why have ye nae taken a wife?”

Conall’s stomach clenched. He’d tried to think of all the questions that she might ask and had tried to prepare himself for them as they’d played the game. But this one, he had not accounted for.

“I daenae want to,” he explained, his voice coming out a bit more defensive than he planned.

Eliza’s brows rose. “And why do ye nae want to?”

“That’s two questions.”

She stared at him pointedly, not moving to the board. She’d allowed him to press on the last question and had answered him honestly. And, with a sigh, Conall realized that he should do the same.

“Me parents,” he continued, his voice hesitant as he carefully chose each and every word. “They claimed to love each other. I thought they did. But when me faither died, it turned out to nae be as true as I thought. That knowledge,” he shook his head, trying to banish some of the images that pressed into his mind.

Images of his father’s body when it came back to the castle, the way his usually hulking form had seemed smaller in death. His mother had screamed to the heavens, had wailed so loudly in front of everyone that he was certain even the spirits had wept with her heartbreak.

And yet, she had been the one to kill him. It had all been an act. Every ounce of it. Every time his mother had gazed longingly at his father across the dinner table, every time he’d seen the way she touched him softly – it had all been a lie.

How could he ever trust a wife after that? How could he trust that he would not end up in a grave with poison in his belly just like his father?

“That knowledge that it was false broke somethin’ in me,” Conall finally finished, his confession settling heavy in the air around them. “I’ve had no desire to take a wife since the day I became Laird.”

A thousand more questions danced behind Eliza’s eyes, but before she could try to ask them, Conall turned his attention to the game.

What he’d just admitted, it had soured his stomach.

What am I doin’ here? Why am I tryin’ to get to ken her?

The answer was an obvious one. Because he was interested in her. But that interest would go nowhere. He had just admitted as such. And was it not cruel to kiss her like he had the night before and then play this game alone with her in the middle of the night?

Especially when he knew it would never go farther. Never be anything more than just desire?

Suddenly, Conall no longer wanted to continue their game.

“It’s gettin’ late,” he grunted, pushing himself out of the chair. “I’ll be needin’ to get back to bed.”

Confusion and hurt flitted across Eliza’s face. He couldn’t blame her. Twice now he’d ended their encounters abruptly, just as some barrier between them seemed to be about to come down.

“The communication went out to Auld’s today,” Conall explained. “We’re still ridin’ out day after tomorrow. He’ll be expectin’ us.”

Eliza’s lips were parted in surprise. Before she could ask him what had happened or press him for any more information than what he was prepared to give, Conall turned.

“Laird MacKinnon,” she called after him, but he did not slow.

Marching back the way he came, Conall made his way through the shelves and through the creaky library door. The opened window of the library had done its job of cooling his overheated skin. But after the game with Eliza and the realizations that had come crashing over him, he was more worked up and flushed than he had been when he’d left his chambers.

That didn’t matter though. Not as he stalked the familiar halls and made his way back to his bed. It did not matter that that desire to get to know Eliza was still there. It did not matter that, as he stepped into his rooms a vision popped into his mind of what it would be like to lead her through the door and bed her.

No, what mattered had been the fact that he had spoken the truth. Everything that had happened with his parents had ruined him. He could not love a wife because he could not trust a wife.

His mother had made sure of that.

Conall had already sullied Eliza enough by pressing his lips to hers. He would not be making that same mistake again.

No matter how much he might want to.

“I will treat her the same as any of me servants,” he grunted, the sound of it filling the stiflingly still air of his bedchamber. “I willnae place me hands on her again.”

Something chittered in the tree outside his window, sounding a lot like laughter.

Even the animals think I’m a liar.

And it was on that thought that Conall tucked himself back into bed, readying himself for the restless remainder of the night.